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¹ O Lorde, thou art my God, I wil prayse the, and magnifie yi name: For thou bringest marvelous thinges to passe, acordinge to thine olde councels, truly and stedfastly.² Thou makest of townes, heapes of stone: and of head cities, broken walles: The palaces of the wicked destroyest thou out of the citie, that they shal neuer be buylded againe.³ Therfore the very rude people must magnifie the, and the cities of the cruel heithen must feare the.⁴ For thou art the poore mans helpe, a stregth for the neadful in his necessite. Thou art a defence agaynst euel wether, a schadowe agaynst the hete. But vnto the presumptuous, thou art like a stroge whyrle wynde, that casteth downe⁵ the boostinge of the vngodly, thou kepest men from heate with the shadow of the cloudes, thou cuttest of the braunches of tyrauntes.

⁶ Morouer the LORDE of hoostes shal once prepare a feast for all people vpo the hill: A plenteous, costly, pleasaunt feast, of fat and welfed beastes, of swete and most pure thinges.⁷ Vpon the hill shal he take awaye the syde vale yt hageth before ye face of al people, and the coueringe wherwith all Gentiles are couered.⁸ As for death, he shal vtterly cosume it, The LORDE God shal wipe awaye the teares from all faces, and take awaye the confucio of his people thorow ye whole worlde. For ye LORDE himself hath sayde it.

⁹ At the same tyme shal it be sayde: lo, this is oure God in who we put oure trust, and he hath healed vs. This is the LORDE that we haue wayted for: Let vs reioyse & delyte in his health.¹⁰ For the hode of ye LORDE ceaseth vpo this hil. But Moab shalbe throsshe downe vnder him, like as the straw is trode vnder fete in a doge hill.¹¹ For he shal stretch out his hodes vpon him, like as a swimmer doth to swymme. And wt the power of his hondes shal he cast downe his hie pompe.¹² As for his stroge holdes & hie walles: he shal buwe them, cast the downe, and sell the to the grounde in to dust.