Coverdale(i) 1 Now well than, I will synge my beloued frende a songe of his vynyearde. My beloued frende hath a vyneyearde in a very frutefull plenteous grounde. 2 This he hedged, this he walled rounde aboute, and planted it with goodly grapes. In the myddest of it buylded he a towre, and made a wyne presse therin And afterwarde when he loked yt it shulde bringe him grapes, it brought forth thornes. 3 I shewe you now my cause (o ye Citysens of Ierusalem and whole Iuda:) Iudge I praye you betwixte me: and my wynegardinge. 4 What more coude haue bene done for it, that I haue not done? Wherfore then hath it geuen thornes, where I loked to haue had grapes of it?