To the chiefe musition as concerning the dumbe doue in a farre countrey, the golden psalme of Dauid, when the Philistines toke him in Geth. Be mercifull vnto me O Lorde: for man goeth about to deuour me, he dayly fyghtyng, oppresseth me.

Myne enemies are dayly in hande to swalowe me vp: for they be many that fight against me, O thou most highest.

Neuerthelesse at all times as I am afraide: I put my whole trust in thee.

In the Lord I wyll prayse his word: in the Lorde I haue put my trust, and I wyll not feare what flesh can do vnto me.

My wordes dayly put me to sorow: all that they do imagine, is to do me euill.

They flocke together, they kepe them selues close: they marke my steppes, that they may lye in wayte for my soule.

Shall they escape for their wickednes? O Lorde in thy displeasure cast downe headlong this people.

Thou hast numbred my flittinges, thou hast put my teares in thy bottell: are not these thinges noted in thy booke?

Whensoeuer I call vpon thee, then shall myne enemies be put to flight: this I know, for the Lorde is on my side.

In the Lord I wyll prayse the word: In God I wyll prayse the worde.

In the Lorde I put my trust: I wyll not be afraide what man can do vnto me.

O Lorde, thy vowes be vpon me: vnto thee wyll I geue thankes & praise.

For thou hast deliuered my soule from death, and my feete from falling: that I may walke before the Lorde in the light of the liuing.