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The .xciiij. Psalme.
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The .xciiij. Psalme.

Oh Lorde God, thou that plagest them that do lyue wyckedly:
O thou reuengeynge God I saye, shewe thy selfe openly.
Auaunce thy selfe, O thou ye arte iudge ouer all the land:
And let the proude haue theyr iuste hyer, & rewarde at thyne hand.
Howe longe? howe longe (O Lord) shall the wycked reioice proudly?


Shall they all scape, and bragge and boste themselues outragiousely?
O Lord they do freate thy people, & weare them cleane awaye:
Such as thou cleymest by byrth ryght, they vexe and greue, I saye.
They do kyl wydowes and strangers, and murder fatherlesse:
And then they saye the Lorde seeth not, Iacobs God hath no gesse.
Ye doltysh sorte of the people, to learne I you aduise:
Ye foles I saye, what tyme shall we, se you prudent and wyse?
Howe should he that hath made the eare, lacke the powre of hearynge?
And how shoulde he that made the eie, lacke the sence of seynge.
He that doeth checke whole nations, and teacheth men science:
Shoulde not the same rebuke you for such force and violence?
The Lorde hath knowen that all the thoughtes of mans herte are but vayne:
As are all the inuentions of an inconstante brayne.
Happie is the man (O Lorde) whom thou wylt kepe in awe:
Right so is he whom thou wylt trayne and enstruct in thy lawe.


That thou maist ordeyne rest for him, agaynst the troublouse tyme:
Whylse the pyte maye be dygged for, the vngodly mans crime.
The Lorde wyl not his owne people, reiect or cast awaye:
And such as he hath made his ow ne he wyll not leaue for aye.
Tyll he haue restored iudgment, to the rule of iustice.
Which all that be of pure herte, shall folowe in theyr guise.
Who could haue risen vp for me against the vngodly?
Or who could stand wyth me agaynst them that lyue wyckedly?
Except the Lord had holpen me, & succoured my nede:
My soule (no doubt) should haue dwelled, emonge the dead wyth spede.
When I sayde (Lorde) my fote doeth slyp then dydst thou me sustayne
And when my thoughtes dyd trouble me, thou confortedste agayne.
Lorde, arte thou lyke in any poynte, to men of cruell sawe?
That do inuent wayes to oppresse, vnder coloure of lawe?
They renne togither agaynst the soule of a man gyltlesse:


And do pronownce innocent bloud gyltie of wyckednes.
But vnto me the Lorde standeth for a forte and defence:
And my God is the strength wherin I put my confidence.
And he shall requite them theyr synne, & stroy them vtterly:
In theyr malice, the Lord (I saye) our God shall them destroye.