Coverdale(i)
1 Thus saieth the LORDE: Heaue is my seate, and the earth is my fote stole. Where shal now the house stonde, yt ye will buylde vnto me? And where shal be the place, yt I wil dwel in?
2 As for these thinges, my hode hath made them all, and they are all created, saieth the LORDE. Which of them shal I then regarde? Eue him that is of a lowly troubled sprete, and stodeth in awe of my wordes.
3 For who so slayeth an oxe for me, doth me so greate dishonoure, as he yt kylleth a ma. He that kylleth a shepe for me, choketh a dogge. He that bringeth me meatoffringes, offreth swynes bloude: Who so maketh me a memoriall of Incense, prayseth the thinge yt is vnright. Yet take they soch wayes in honde, and their soule deliteth in these abhominacions.
4 Therfore wil I also haue pleasure in laughinge them to scorne, and the thinge that they feare, wil I bringe vpon the. For when I called, no man gaue answere: when I spake, they wolde not heare: But dyd wickednesse before myne eyes, & chose the thinges that displease me.
5 Heare the worde of God all ye, that feare the thinge which he speaketh. Youre brethren that hate you, and cast you out for my names sake, saye: Let the LORDE magnifie himself, that we maye se youre gladnesse: & yet they shalbe cofounded.
6 For as touchinge the cite and the temple, I heare the voyce of the LORDE, that will rewarde, and recompece his enemies: