Great(i)
2 Blessed is the man, vnto whom the Lorde imputeth no synne, and in whose sprete there is no gyle.
3 For whyle I helde my tonge, my bones consumed awaye thorowe my daylye complayninge.
4 For thy hande is heuy vpon me daye and nyght, and my moysture is lyke the drouth in Sommer. Sela.
5 I wyll knowledge my synne vnto the, and myne vnryghteousnesse haue I not hyd.
6 I sayde: I wyll confesse my synnes vnto the Lorde, & so thou forgauest the wyckednesse of my synne. Sela.