O Angel guardian of my right hand,
Attend thou me this night,
Rescue thou me in the battling floods,
Array me in thy linen, for I am naked;
Succor me, for I am feeble and forlorn.
Steer thou my coracle in the crooked eddies,
Guide thou my step in gap and in pit,
Guard thou me in the treacherous turnings,
And save thou me from the scaith* of the wicked,
Save thou me from scaith this night.
Drive thou from me the taint of pollution,
Encompass thou me till Doom from evil;
O kindly Angel of my right hand,
Deliver thou me from the wicked this night,
Deliver thou me this night!
(*scaith: injury, harm, or damage)