Coverdale(i)
1 O God, ye Heithen are fallen in to thine heretage: thy holy temple haue they defyled, and made Ierusalem an heape of stones.
2 The deed bodies of thy seruauntes haue they geuen vnto ye foules of the ayre to be deuoured, and the flesh of thy sayntes vnto ye beestes of the londe.
3 Their bloude haue they shed like water on euery syde of Ierusalem, and there was no ma to burie them.
4 We are become an open shame vnto oure enemies, a very scorne and derision vnto them that are rounde aboute vs.
5 LORDE, how longe wilt thou be angrie? shal thy gelousy burne like fyre for euer?
6 Poure out thy indignacion vpon the Heithen that knowe the not, and vpon the kyngdomes that call not vpon thy name.
7 For they haue deuoured Iacob, and layed waiste his dwellinge place.
8 O remebre not oure olde synnes, but haue mercy vpon vs (& that soone) for we are come to greate mysery.