Preserue me (o God) for in the do I trust.

I haue sayde vnto ye LORDE: thou art my God, my goodes are nothinge vnto the.

All my delyte is vpon the sanctes that are in the earth, and vpon soch like.

But they yt runne after another, shall haue greate trouble.

Their drynkofferynges of bloude wil not I offre, nether make mencion of their name in my mouth.

The LORDE himself is my good and my porcion, thou manteynest my enheritauce.

The lott is fallen vnto me in a fayre grounde, yee I haue a goodly heretage.

I wil thanke the LORDE for geuynge me warnynge: my reynes also haue chastened me in the night season.

Afore honde sawe I God allwayes before me, for he is on my right honde, that I shulde not be moued.

Therfore dyd my hert reioyce, & my tunge was glad, my flesh also shall rest in hope.

For why? thou shalt not leaue my soule in hell, nether shalt thou suffre thy saynte to se corrupcion. Thou hast shewed me the wayes off life: thou shalt make me full of ioye wt thy countenaunce. At thy right hande there is pleasure and ioye for euermore.