Prayse ye the Lorde, for it is a good thyng: sing psalmes vnto our Lorde, for it is a pleasaunt thing, his praise is to be desired.

God buildeth vp Hierusalem: he wyll gather together the Israelites that were banished.

He healeth those that are broken in heart: he wrappeth vp their sorowes.

He counteth the number of the starres: he geueth vnto them all names.

Great is our Lorde, and great is his power: his vnderstandyng is infinite.

God setteth vp the meeke: he bringeth the vngodly downe to the grounde.

Syng ye vnto God with a confession: syng psalmes vpon the Harpe vnto our Lorde.

Who couereth the heauen with cloudes: who prepareth rayne for the earth, who maketh grasse to growe vppon the mountaynes.

He geueth vnto cattell their foode: euen vnto Rauens which call for it.

He hath no pleasure in the strength of an horse: he delighteth not in the legges of a man.

God delyghteth in them that feare him: and in them that put their trust in his mercie.

Prayse God O Hierusalem: prayse thy Lorde O Sion.

For he maketh fast the barres of thy gates: he blesseth thy children within thee.

He maketh peace in thy borders: he fylleth thee with good corne.

He sendeth foorth his commaundement vpon the earth: his word runneth very swiftly.

He geueth snowe so whyte as wooll: he scattereth the hoare frost like asshes.

He casteth foorth his yse lyke fragmentes: who is able to abide his frost?

He sendeth foorth his worde and melteth them: he bloweth with his winde, and the waters flowe.

He declareth his worde vnto Iacob: his statutes & ordinaunces vnto Israel.

He hath not dealt so with euery nation: neither haue they the knowledge of his iudgementes. Prayse ye the Lorde.