Coverdale(i) 1 Geue sentence vpon me (o God) & defende my cause agaynst the vnholy people: Oh delyuer me from the disceatfull & wicked man. 2 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? 3 Oh sende out yi light & thy trueth, yt they maye lede me & brynge me vnto thy holy hill and to thy dwellinge. 4 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. 5 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.