C Now when I thincke ther vpon, I poure
out my hert by my self: for I would faine go
hence wyth the multytude and passe ouer &wt;
them vnto the house of God, in the voyce of
prayse and thankes geuynge, amonge suche
as kepe holy daye.
Why art thou so full of heuynes, (O my
soule) and why arte thou so vnquyet wythin
me?
O put thy trust in God, for I wyl yet geue
him thankes, for the helpe of his counten&abar;ce
My God, my soule is vexed wythin me:
therfore I remembre the lande of Iordaine,
and the litle hyl of Hermonim.
One depe calleth another wyth the voyce
of thy whistles, al thy waues and water floudes
are gone ouer me.
The Lorde hath promysed hys louynge
kyndnesse daylye, therfore will I prayse him
in the night season, and make my prayer vnto
the God of my lyfe.
I wyll say vnto God my stony rock: why
host thou forgotten me? why go I thus heuely,
whyle the enemye oppresseth me?
D Whyle my bones are broken, whyle mine
enemyes cast me in the teeth, daylye saiynge
vnto me: where is now thy God?
Why art thou so heuy (O my soule) ∧ why
art thou so disquieted within me?
O put thy trust in God, for I wyll yet th&abar;ke
hym for the helpe of hys countenaunce, and
because he is my God.
T. Matthew [1549], The Byble, that is to say all the holy Scripture: In whych are c&obar;tayned the Olde and New Testamente, truely ∧ purely tr&abar;slated into English, ∧ nowe lately with greate industry ∧ dilig&ebar;ce recognised. [Edited by Edmund Becke.] (Imprinted by... Ihon Daye [etc.] and William Seres [etc.], London) [word count] [B05000].
