Wycliffe(i)
11 My daies ben passid; my thouytis ben scaterid, turmentynge myn herte.
12 Tho han turned the nyyt `in to day; and eft aftir derknessis hope liyt.
13 If Y `susteyne, ether suffre pacientli, helle is myn hous; and Y haue arayede my bed in derknessis.
14 Y seide to rot, Thou art my fadur; and to wormes, Ye ben my modir and my sister.
15 Therfor where is now myn abidyng? and who biholdith my pacience?
16 Alle my thingis schulen go doun in to deppeste helle; gessist thou, whether reste schal be to me, nameli there.