Matthew(i)
1 To the chaunter a Psalme of Dauid. Heare my voice, O God, in my complaynte, preserue my lyfe from feare of the enemye.
2 Hide me from the gathering together of the frowarde, from the heape of wycked doers.
3 Which whet their tonges lyke a sweard, and shote wyth their veneymous words like as with arowes.
4 That they maye preuely hurt the innocent sodenly to hyt him wythout any feare.
5 They haue deuysed myschefe, and communed amonge them selues, how they may laye snares: tush (saye they) who shall se them?
6 They ymagyn wyckednes, and kepe it secrete amonge them selues, euerye man in the depe of his herte.
7 But God shal sodenly shote wyth an arow that they shalbe wounded.
8 Yea their owne tonges shall make them fall, in somuch that who so seyth them, shall laugh them to scorne.
9 And all men that se it shal saye: thys hath God done, for they shall perceyue that it is hys worcke.
10 The righteous shal reioyse in the Lorde, and put his trust in him: and all they that are true of hert, shalbe glad therof.