An ultimate shibboleth psalm. If you know this one instantly, I know what kind of Holy Mass you attend on Sundays.
(It’s the beginning of the traditional Latin mass)
“Judica me, Deus” (Psalm 42)
 Psalmus David. Judica me, Deus, et discerne causam meam de gente non sancta, ab homine iniquo et doloso erue me.
A Psalm of David. Judge me, O God, and discern my cause among a people not holy; from the man unjust and deceitful, rescue me.
 Quia tu es, Deus, fortitudo mea, quare me repulisti? et quare tristis incedo, dum affligit me inimicus?
Since You are, O God, my strength, why have You cast me off? And why, sorrowful, do I walk on while he afflicts me, the enemy?
 Emitte lucem tuam et veritatem tuam; ipsa me deduxerunt, et adduxerunt in montem sanctum tuum, et in tabernacula tua.
Send out Your light and Your truth; these have led me up and have directed me onto Your holy mountain and into Your tabernacle.
 Et introibo ad altare Dei, ad Deum qui laetificat juventutem meam.
And I will enter to the altar of God, to God who makes joyful my youth.
 Confitebor tibi in cithara, Deus, Deus meus. Quare tristis es, anima mea? et quare conturbas me?
I will confess to You on cithara, O God, my God. Why are you sorrowful, my soul? And why do you disquiet me?
 Spera in Deo, quoniam adhuc confitebor illi, salutare vultus mei, et Deus meus.
Hope in God, for still will I confess to Him, the saving of my face, and my God.
v. 6 salutare I find it deeply aggravating that this infinite-looking thing is actually a noun. Deep within me, I find I cannot accept this. Hence, I make it as gerund-y as possible. You can get me to say “salvation” here on the Last Day, when the Lord Himself insists on it.