| To the chaunter, a Psalme of David.
Blessed is he, that considereth the poor: the Lord shall deliver him in time of trouble. The Lord shall preserve him, and keep him alive: he shall make him to prosper upon the earth, and shall not deliver him into the will of his enemies. The Lord shall refresh him, when he lieth sick upon his bed, yee thou makest his bed in all his sickness.
I said: Lord be merciful unto me, heal my soul, for I have sinned against thee.
Mine enemies speak evil upon me: when shall he die, and his name perish? Though he came in to see, yet meaned he falsehood in his heart, heaping mischief upon himself. All they that hate me, run together against me, and imagine evil against me. They have given a wicked sentence upon me: when he lieth, he shall rise up no more.
Yee, even mine own familiar friend, whom I trusted, which did eat my bread, hath lifted up his heel against me.
But be thou merciful unto me( O' Lord ) raise thou me up, and I shall reward them.
By this I know that thou favourest me, that my enemy shall not triumph over me. Thou hast upholden me because of my innocency, and set me before thy face for ever.
Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, from henceforth and forever more, Amen, Amen. |
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