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¹ The `title of the threttenthe salm. To the victorie of Dauid.<sup>2</sup> The Lord bihelde fro heuene on the sones of men; that he se, if ony is vndurstondynge, ethir sekynge God.<sup>3</sup> Alle bowiden awei, togidere thei ben maad vnprofitable; noon is that doth good, noon is `til to oon. The throte of hem is an open sepulcre, thei diden gilefuli with her tungis; the venym of snakis is vndur her lippis. Whos mouth is ful of cursyng and bittirnesse; her feet ben swift to schede out blood. Sorewe and cursidnesse is in the weies of hem, and thei knewen not the weie of pees; the drede of God is not bifor her iyen.

⁴ Whether alle men that worchen wickidnesse schulen not knowe; that deuowren my puple, as mete of breed?⁵ Thei clepeden not the Lord; thei trembliden there for dreed, where was no drede;⁶ for the Lord is in a riytful generacioun. Thou hast schent the counsel of a pore man; for the Lord is his hope.⁷ Who schal yyue fro Syon helthe to Israel? Whanne the Lord hath turned awei the caitifte of his puple; Jacob schal `fulli be ioiful, and Israel schal be glad.