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¹ Lorde, how ioyfull is the kynge in yi strength? O how exceadinge glad is he of thy sauynge health?² Thou hast geuen him his hertes desyre, & hast not put him fro the request of his lippes.³ Sela. For thou hast preueted him wt liberall blessinges, & set a crowne of golde vpon his heade.⁴ He asked life of the, & thou gauest him a longe life, eue for euer & euer.⁵ His honoure is greate in thy sauynge health, glory and greate worshipe shalt thou laye vpon him.⁶ For thou shalt geue him euerlastige felicite, & make him glad wt the ioye of yi coutenauce.

⁷ And why? because the kinge putteth his trust in the LORDE, & in the mercy of the most hiest he shal not myscary.⁸ Let all thine enemies fele thy honde, let thy right honde fynde out all the yt hate the.⁹ Thou shalt make the like a fyre ouen in tyme of thy wrath: the LORDE shal destroye the in his displeasure, & the fyre shall consume them.¹⁰ Their frute shalt thou rote out of the earth, & their sede fro amoge the childre of men.¹¹ For they inteded myschefe agaynst the, & ymagined soch deuyces, as they were not able to perfourme.¹² Therfore shalt thou put the to flight, & with thy stringes thou shalt make ready thine arowes agaynst the faces off them.¹³ Be thou exalted (LORDE) in thine owne strength, so wil we synge and prayse thy power.