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¹ Blessed be the LORDE my refuge, which teacheth my hades to warre, & my fyngers to fight.² My hope and my castell, my defence and my delyuerer, my shylde in whom I trust, which gouerneth the people that is vnder me.³ LORDE, what is ma, that thou hast soch respecte vnto him? Or the sonne of man, that thou so regardest him?⁴ Man is like a thinge of naught, his tyme passeth awaye like a shadowe.⁵ Bowe thy heaues (o LORDE) & come downe, touch the mountaynes, yt they maye smoke withall.⁶ Sende forth the lightenynge & scater the, shute out thine arowes and consume them.⁷ Sende downe thine hande from aboue, delyuer me and take me out of ye greate waters, from the hande of straunge childre.⁸ Whose mouth talketh of vanite, & their right hade is a righthande of falsede.

⁹ That I maye synge a new songe vnto the (o God) & synge prayses vnto the vpon a tenstrynged lute,¹⁰ Thou that geuest victory vnto kynges, and hast delyuered Dauid thy seruaunt from the parell of the swerde.¹¹ Saue me and delyuer me from the honde of straunge childre, whose mouth talketh of vanite, and their right hande is a right hande of falsede.¹² That or sonnes maye growe vp as the yoge plantes, and that oure doughters maye be as the polished corners of the temple.¹³ That or garners maye be full and plenteous with all maner of stoare: that or shepe maye brynge forth thousandes and hundreth thousands in oure villages.¹⁴ That oure oxen maye be stronge to laboure, that there be no myschaunce, no decaye, and no complayninge in oure stretes.¹⁵ Happie are the people that be in soch a case: yee blessed are the people, which haue the LORDE for their God.