To the chiefe musition, destroy not; the psalme of Asaph, a song. We do confesse it vnto thee O lord, we do confesse it: for thy wonderous workes do declare thy name to be at hande.
When I shall take tyme fyt for the purpose: I wyll iudge accordyng vnto ryght.
The earth wasteth and all the inhabitours therof: I haue vpholded the pyllours of it. Selah.
I sayd vnto fooles deale not so madly: & to the vngodly set not vp your horne.
Set not vp your horne an high: and speake not with a stiffe necke.
Because promotion commeth neither from the east nor from the west: nor yet from the south.
For God is the iudge: it is he that putteth downe one, and setteth vp another.
For in the hande of God there is a cup, and the wine is redde: it is full mixt, and he powreth out the same. But the vngodly of the earth do wring out: and drynke the dregges therof.
As for me I wyll euer set foorth in wordes the Lorde: I wyll sing psalmes to the God of Iacob.
And I wyll breake all the hornes of the vngodly: but the hornes of the ryghteous shalbe exalted.