Wycliffe(i)
8 And now, Lord, thou art oure fadir; forsothe we ben cley, and thou art oure maker, and alle we ben the werkis of thin hondis.
9 Lord, be thou not wrooth ynow, and haue thou no more mynde on oure wickidnesse. Lo! Lord, biholde thou, alle we ben thi puple.
10 The citee of thi seyntuarie is forsakun, Sion is maad deseert, Jerusalem is desolat;