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 .lxxiiij. Psalme.

O God why art thou styl absente from vs what displeasure: Hath made thy wrath so hotte against, y^e shep of thy pasture? Oh thyncke vpō the church y^t hath of aunciēt bene thyne: And that thou hast redemed (Lorde) euen be∣fore our eine. Thyncke on the kynred that is thyne by right succession: And on the place where thou hast dwelt, the holy mount Sion. Lyfte vp thy fote and destroye all the eni∣mies for aye: That haue wrought wyckednes wyth in thyne holy place thys daye. Thyne enimies haue roared in thy cōgre∣gations. And haue erected theyr owne sygnes, to be sygnes and tokens. Theyr axes are sene glytter as when men hewe wodde on hylles: The selynge of the holye place they breake

downe wyth theyr bylles. They haue broken thyne holy thynges & set fyre on the same: They haue broke downe and poluted the dwellyng of thy name. Thus sayd they in theyr herte, let vs all vex them in one bande: So brent they all goddes synagoges, that were found in the land. Our sygnes and tokens we se not, no Pro¦phete doeth remayne: Ther is none emonge vs that can tell vs ought for certayne. O God howe longe shall thyne enmy do the dispyte and shame? Wylt thou suffer him euer to blaspheme thyne holy name? Lord, whye wythdrawest thou thy powre? Why doeth thy right hand byd. Styll in thy bosome? pulle it out and let thy foes destryed. O God thou arte my kynge for aye, & haste bene euer more: Ther is none health in all the earth that is not of thy store. In thy great power thou dydest diuide the seas and brakest the head: Of Pharoo that great dragon, who of that wounde is dead. The heades (Lord) of the whale that was,

of excedyng greatnes: Thou hast broken and made hym meate to men of wyldernes. A welsprynge and a rennynge streame, thou haste made in drye land: And haste made the great riuers drye, by the power of thyne hand. The day & eke the nyght are thyne thou haste them in thy power: Thou hast prepared lyght & sunne, to serue vs at theyr houre. Thou hast set & appoynted al the limettes of the lande: The sommer & wynter also, are the worcke of thyne hand. Remēber this (O Lorde) because, thy foes do the reuile: And the braynsicke and folyshe folke, thyne holy name defyle. Geue not the lyfe of thy turtle into thyne enmies hand: Neyther forget thy churche for aye, that of the pore doeth stande. Be myndfull of thy couenaunt, for all the earth is hyd: Wyth the dwellynges of men that are most cruell and wycked. O suffer not the simple to returne agayne wyth shame: For the pore and the indigent are they that

prayse thy name. Aryse (O God) and iudge thy cause, & let thy seruauntes see: That thou art myndfull of the checkes that foles vse to geue the. Do not forget the wordes of them, that wythstand the so sore: for theyr pride and presumption, encreaseth more and more.