Richard Rolle, The English Writings, The English Psalter and Commentary, translated, edited, and introduced by Rosamund S. Allen, Classics of Western Spirituality.

Rolle wrote two commentaries on the whole 150 psalms . . . one in Latin . . . and an English version much later. For nearly two hundred years Rolle's Psalter was the only authorized translation of the Bible into English; it did not need diocesan permission for its use. The consequent popularity of the work is attested by the twenty or so extant manuscripts

A great fullness of spiritual comfort and joy in God comes into the hearts of those who recite or devoutly intone the psalms as an act of praise to Jesus Christ. They drop sweetness in men's souls and pour delight into their thoughts and kindle their wills with the fire of love, making them hot and burning within, and beautiful and lovely in Christ's eyes. And those who persevere in their devotion he raises up to the life of meditation and, on many occasions, he exalts them to the melody and celebrations of heaven. The song of the psalms chases away devils, stirs up angels to help us; it drives out and (destroys discontent and resentment in the soul and a peace between body and soul; it brings desire of heaven and contempt for earthly things. Indeed, this radiant book is a choice song in God's presence, like a lamp brightening our life, health for a sick heart, honey to a bitter soul, a high mark of honor among spiritual people, a voicing of private virtues, which forces down the proud to humility and makes kings bow in reverence to poor men, nurturing children with gentleness. In the psalms there is such great beauty of meaning and of medicine from the words that this book is called "a garden enclosed, " a sealed fountain, a paradise full of apples. Now see: with wholesome instruction it brings agitated and tempestuous souls into a fair and peaceful way of life, now warning them to repent of sin with tears, now promising joy for the virtuous, now threatening hell for the wicked. The song which gives delight to hearts and instructs the soul has become a sound of singing: with angels whom we cannot hear we mingle words of praising, so that anyone would be right to reckon himself exiled from true life if he does not in this way experience the delightfulness of this gift of wonderful sweetness, which never grows sour with the corruptions of this world, but is everlasting in its own superlative quality, and is always increasing in the grace of purest softness. All the pleasures and delights of earthly loves vanish away and at last disappear to nothing, but the longer this gift persists, the greater it is, and is greatest of all, quite the opposite of cursed human love affairs, when love is most perfected.