Wycliffe(i)
9 The enemy seide, Y schal pursue, and Y schal take; Y schal departe spuylis, my soule schal be fillid. I schal drawe out my swerde; myn hond schal sle hem.
10 Thi spirit blew, and the see hilide hem; thei weren drenchid as leed in grete watris.
11 Lord, who is lijk thee in stronge men, who is lijk thee? thou art greet doere in hoolynesse; ferdful, and preisable, and doynge myraclis.