The Psalter of Dauid newely translated into Englysh metre in such sort that it maye the more decently, and wyth more delyte of the mynde, be reade and songe of al men. Wherunto is added a note of four partes, wyth other thynges, as shall appeare in the epistle to the readar.

The .xxv. Psalme.

O Lorde, to the I lyfte myne herte, my God I truste in the: Let me not take shame, leste my foes shoulde reioyce ouer me. Yea, Lorde let none that truste in the, be put to open shame: But let them that do fall from the, be put in all the blame.

O Lorde, make thy wayes knowne to me, teache me thy lawes I saye: Do thou vse me vnto thy pathes, and trayne me in thy waye. Lorde, leade thou me forth in thy trueth, and by vse make me stronge: For thou arte God my Sauioure, whome I seke al daye longe. Remember thy mercyes (O Lorde) & eke thy greate goodnes: For sence the worlde was fyrste create, they dyd yet neuer cease. Lorde beare not the synnes of my youthe any longer in mynde: But forget al the wickednes, that thou doest in me fynde. But for thy goodnes sake (O Lorde) I hū∣bly beseche the. Accordynge to thy greate mercye, be thou myndfull of me. The Lorde is good and eke rightwyse, no man can this denye: And therfore wyll enstruct synners in the waye certaynelye. He wil guyde the meke in iudgement, they shall do ryght I saye: And the lowly in spyryte he wyl accustome to hys waye. Al the wayes of the Lorde are founde mer∣cye and trueth certes.

To them that kepe his couenaunt, and hys testymonyes. O Lorde forgeue my wyckednes, for thine holy names sake: For myne iniquitie is greate, do not thou me forsake. Whoso feareth the Lorde, the same he wyl leade in the waye: That he hym selfe shall chuse, and wylbe his succoure and staye. Hys mynd shal tarye in good thinges, euer wythoute greuaunce. Hys seede also shall haue the earth for their enherytaunce. The Lorde shall make hys secrete knowne to them that do him feare: In lyke maner his couenaunt, shal vnto thē appeare. Wpon the Lorde my God myne eyes are alwaye surely set: For he it is that doeth styll louse, my fete oute of the nette. Loke backe on thy seruaunt (O Lord) and take on me mercie: For I am succourlesse I saye, and in greate myserye. The sorowes and cares of myne hert are made moste large in deede: To leade me out of my trouble, Lord God do thou make spede.

Lorde be holde myne afflyction, and eke mine heauynes: And take awaye from me my synnes and all my wyckednes. Consyder thou myne enemies, for they are ryght many: And wythall vyolent despyte they do hate me deadly. O Lorde, I saye, kepe thou my soule, and eke delyuer me: Let me neuer be put to shame, for I do truste in the. O Lorde, let perfectnes of lyfe, and equi∣tie kepe me: Because I tarye for thy grace, and put my truste in the. O God redeme thou Israell and thy peo∣ple eche one: From al their trouble and frō al their greate afflyctyon.