Great(i)
16 O Lorde men maye lyue beyond theyr yeares, and I wyll declare to all men: that euen in those yeres I haue a ioyfull lyfe, and that it was thou that causedest me to sleape and agayne thou hast geuen lyfe to me.
17 Beholde bytter as gall was my pensyuenesse, so sore longed I for helth. And it was thy pleasure to deliuer my lyfe, from the fylthye pytt, for thou it is (O Lorde) that hast cast all my synnes behynde thy backe.
18 For hell prayseth not the, death doth not magnifye the. They that go downe into the graue prayse not thy trueth:
19 but the lyuinge, yee, the lyuing a knowledge the, lyke as I do thys daye. The father telleth hys chyldren of thy faythfulnesse.
20 To heale me it is the Lordes worcke, and we wyll synge my songes in thy house, all the dayes of oure lyfe.