Delyuer me (o LORDE) from the euell men, oh preserue me from the wicked men.

Which ymagin myschefe in their hertes, & stere vp strife all the daye longe.

They sharpen their tonges like a serpent, Adders poyson is vnder their lippes.

Sela. Kepe me (o LORDE) from the hande of the vngodly, preserue me from the wicked men, which are purposed to ouerthrowe my goinges.

The proude haue layed a snare for me, & spred a nett abrode with coardes, yee & sett trappes in my waye.

Sela. But my sayenge is vnto the LORDE: thou art my God, heare the voyce of my prayer o LORDE.

O LORDE God, thou strength of my health, thou hast couered my heade in ye daye of battayll.

Let not ye vngodly haue his desyre (o LORDE) let him not haue his purpose, lest they be to proude.

Sela. Let the myschefe of their owne lippes fall vpon ye head of the, yt copase me aboute.

Let hote burnynge coales fall vpo the, let the be cast in to the fyre, and in to the pytt, that they neuer ryse vp agayne.

A man full of wordes shal not prospere vpon earth: a malicious & wicked person shal be hunted awaye and destroyed.

Sure I am, that the LORDE wil auenge the poore, and manteyne the cause of the helplesse.

The rightuous also shal geue thakes vnto thy name, & the iust shal continue in thy sight.