Unto the wil I crie, o my stronge defence: thinke no scorne of me, lest (yf thou make the as though thou herdest not) I become like them, that go downe into ye pytte.

Heare the voyce of my humble peticion, when I crie vnto the, and holde vp my hondes towarde thy holy temple.

O plucke me not awaye amonge the vngodly and wicked doers, which speake frendly to their neghboure, but ymagin myschefe in their hertes.

Rewarde them acordinge to their dedes and wickednesse of their owne inuencions.

Recompense them after ye workes of their hodes, paye them that they haue deserued.

For they regarde not the workes of the LORDE, ner the operacion of his hades: therfore shal he breake them downe, and not buylde them vp.

Praysed be ye LORDE, for he hath herde the voyce of my humble peticio.

The LORDE is my stregth and my shylde: my herte hoped in him, & I am helped: therfore my hert dauseth for ioye, and I will synge prayses vnto him.

The LORDE is the strength of his people, he is the defender and Sauioure of his anoynted. O helpe thy people, geue thy blessynge vnto thy enheritaunce: fede them, and set them vp for euer.