Coverdale(i)
12 O ye all that go fore by, beholde and se, yf there be eny sorowe like vnto myne, wherwith the LORDE hath troubled me, in the daye of his fearefull wrath.
13 From aboue hath he sent downe a fyre, in to my bones and chastened me: he hath layed a net for my fete, and throwne me wyde open: he hath made me desolate, so that I must euer be mournynge.
14 The yocke of my transgression is come at the last, with his honde hath he taken it vp, and put it aboute my neck. My strength is gone: the LORDE hath delyuered me in to those hondes, wherout I can not quyte myself.