Coverdale(i) 1 Why are they so many (o LORDE) yt trouble me? a greate multitude are they, that ryse agaynst me. 2 Yee many one there be that saye off my soule: there is no helpe for him in God. 3 Sela But thou (o LORDE) art my defender, my worshipe, ad the lifter vp of my heade. 4 I call vpon the LORDE with my voyce, and he heareth me out of his holy hill. 5 Sela I layed me downe and slepte, but I rose vp agayne, for the LORDE susteyned me. 6 I am not afrayed for thousandes of the people, that copasse me rounde aboute. 7 Vp LORDE, and helpe me, o my God: for thou smytest all myne enemies vpon the cheke bones, and breakest the teth of the vngodly. 8 Helpe belongeth vnto the LORDE, therfore let thy blessynge be vpon thy people.