Study Desk

Why art thou so heuy (o my soule) & why art thou so disquieted within me? O put thy trust in God, for I wil yet geue him thakes for ye helpe of his countenauce, and because he is my God.

All this is come vpon vs, & yet haue we not forgotten the, ner behaued oure selues vnfaithfully in thy couenaunt.

This waie of theirs is very foolishnesse, & yet their posterite prayse it wt their mouth.

Where as the goodnesse of God endureth yet daylie.

Their mouthes are softer then butter, & yet haue they batell in their mynde: their wordes are smoother then oyle, and yet be they very swerdes.

Yet hast thou geue a toke for soch as feare the, yt they maye cast it vp in ye treuth.

Forsake me not (o God) in myne olde age, when I am gray headed: vntill I haue shewed thyne arme vnto childers children, & thy power to all them that are yet for to come.

O what greate troubles & aduersite hast thou shewed me? & yet didest thou turne & refresh me, yee & broughtest me from the depe of the earth agayne.

For promocio commeth nether from the east ner from the west, ner yet fro the wyldernesse.

Thy waye was in the see, and thy pathes in the greate waters, yet coude no man knowe thy fotesteppes.

That their posterite might knowe it, and the children which were yet vnborne.

Yet for all this they synned agaynst him, and prouoked the most hyest in the wildernesse.

But whyle ye meate was yet in theyr mouthes: The heuy wrath of God came vpo the, slewe ye welthiest of the, & smote downe ye chosen men of Israel.

But for all this they synned yet more, and beleued not his woderous workes.

The dayes of oure age are iij. score yeares & ten: & though men be so stronge that they come to iiij. score yeares, yet is their strength then but laboure and sorowe: so soone passeth it awaye, & we are gone.

The wawes of the see are mightie, & rage horribly: but yet the LORDE that dwelleth on hye, is mightier. Thy testimonies (o LORDE) are very sure, holynesse becommeth thyne house for euer.

And yet they saie: Tush, the LORDE seyth not, the God of Iacob regardeth it not.

Yet wil I saye: O my God, take me not awaye in ye myddest of myne age: as for thy yeares, they endure thorow out all generacions.

When there was yet but a fewe of them, and they straungers therin.

Yet he gaue them their desyre, and sent the ynough at their willes.