Study Desk

My teares are my meate daye and night, whyle it is daylie sayde vnto me: where is now thy God?

Now when I thinke there vpo, I poure out my hert by my self: for I wolde fayne go hence with the multitude, & passe ouer with them vnto the house of God, in ye voyce of prayse & thankesgeuynge, amonge soch as kepe holy daye.

O put thy trust in God, for I wil yet geue him thankes, for the helpe of his countenauce.

My God, my soule is vexed within me: therfore I remebre the londe of Iordane, & the litle hill of Hermonim. One depe calleth another wt the voyce of thy whystles, all thy wawes & water floudes are gone ouer me.

The LORDE hath promised his louynge kyndnesse daylie, therfore wil I prayse him in the night season, and make my prayer vnto ye God of my life.

I wil saye vnto God my stony rock: why hast thou forgotten me? why go I thus heuely, whyle the enemie oppresseth me?

daylie sayenge 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 wil yet thanke him for the helpe of his countenaunce, and because he is my God.

Geue sentence vpon me (o God) & defende my cause agaynst the vnholy people: Oh delyuer me from the disceatfull & wicked man.

For thou (o God) art my stregth: why hast thou shot me from the? Why go I then so heuely, whyle the enemie oppresseth me?

That I maye go into the aulter of God, euen vnto the God which is my ioye & pleasure, & vpon the harpe to geue thakes vnto ye, o God, my God.

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.

We haue herde with or eares (o God) or fathers haue tolde vs, what thou hast done in their tyme, of olde.

Thou art ye kinge & my God, thou sendest helpe vnto Iacob.

We will allwaye make oure boast of God, and prayse thy name for euer.

Yf we had forgotten the name of oure God, & holde vp oure hondes to eny straunge God: Shulde not God fynde it out? for he knoweth the very secretes of the hert.

Thou art the fayrest amonge the children of me, full of grace are thy lippes, therfore God blesseth the for euer.

Thy seate (o God) endureth for euer: the cepter of thy kyngdome is a right cepter.

Thou hast loued rightuousnesse, & hated iniquite: wherfore God (which is thy God) hath anoynted the with the oyle of gladnes aboue thy felowes.

In oure troubles and aduersite, we haue founde, that God is oure refuge, oure strength and helpe.