Coverdale(i)
8 Thou tellest my flittinges, thou puttest my teares in thy botell, and nombrest them.
9 When so euer I call vpon the, myne enemies are put to flight: wherby I knowe, that thou art my God.
10 In Gods worde wil I reioyse, in the LORDES worde wil I comforte me.
11 Yee in God do I trust, & am not afraied: what ca man the do vnto me?