O how amiable are yi dwelliges, thou LORDE of hoostes?

My soule hath a desyre & loginge for ye courte of ye LORDE, my hert & my flesh reioyse in ye lyuynge God.

For the sparow hath founde hir an house, & the swalowe a nest, where she maye laye hir yoge: eue yi aulters O LORDE of hoostes, my kynge & my God.

O how blessed are they that dwell in thy house, they are allwaye praysinge ye.

Blessed are ye men whose stregth is in ye, in whose herte are yt wayes.

Which goinge thorow the vale of mysery, vse it for a well, and the poles are fylled with water.

They go from strength to strength and so the God of Gods apeareth vnto the in Sion.

O LORDE God of hoostes, heare my prayer: herken o God of Iacob.

Beholde o God oure defence, loke vpon the face of thyne anoynted.

For one daye in thy courte is better then a thousande:

I had rather be a dore keper in the house of my God, then to dwell in the tentes of the vngodly.

For the LORDE God is a light and defence, the LORDE wil geue grace & worshipe, and no good thinge shal he witholde from them, that lyue a godly life. O LORDE God of hoostes, blessed is the man, yt putteth his trust in the.