To the chiefe musition, a psalme of Dauid. O God thou hast searched me to the quicke: and thou hast knowen me.

Thou knowest my downe sitting & myne vprising: thou vnderstandest my thoughtes long before they be.

Thou compassest about my path, and my iourney into all coastes: and thou vsest all my wayes.

For there is not a word in my tongue: but beholde thou O Lorde knowest it altogether.

Thou hast fashioned me behinde and before: and layde thyne hande vpon me.

The knowledge that thou hast of me is marueylous: it is so high that I can not attayne vnto it.

Whyther can I go from thy spirite: or whyther can I flee away from thy face?

If I ascende vp into heauen, thou art there: if I lay me downe in hell, thou art there also.

If I take the wynges of the morning: and go to dwell in the vttermost part of the sea.

Euen there also thy hande shall leade me: and thy right hande shall holde me.

And yf I say peraduenture the darknesse shall couer me: and the night shalbe day for me,

Truely the darknesse shall not darken any thing from thee, and the night shalbe as lyghtsome as the day: darknesse and lyght to thee are both a lyke.

For thou hast my reynes in thy possession: thou didst couer me in my mothers wombe.

I wyll confesse it vnto thee, for that thy doynges are to be dreaded, I am made after a marueylous sort: thy workes be marueylous, and that my soule knoweth ryght well.

The substaunce of my body was not hyd from thee: when I was made in secrete and fashioned with distinct members in my mothers wombe.

Thyne eyes dyd see me when I was most imperfect: and in thy booke were written euery day of them wherin the partes of my body were shaped, and no one of them were knowen vnto thee.

Howe pretious be thy cogitations towardes me O God? howe greatly be the summe of them increased?

I go about to count them, I fynde that they are mo in number then the sande: and yet whyle I am wakyng I am styll with thee.

For truely thou wylt slay O Lord the wicked man: and the blood thirstie men to whom I euer say depart ye from me.

Who do speake vnto thee in guilefull maner: thou art O God exalted in vayne to thyne enemies.

Do not I hate them O God that hate thee? and am not I greeued with those that rise vp agaynst thee?

Yea I hate them from the bottome of myne heart: euen as though they were myne enemies.

Searche me to the quicke O Lorde, and knowe thou myne heart: proue me and knowe thou my thoughtes.

And loke well yf there be any way of peruersnesse in me: and then leade me in the way of the worlde.