Wycliffe(i)
5 Make thou perfit my goyngis in thi pathis; that my steppis be not moued.
6 I criede, for thou, God, herdist me; bowe doun thin eere to me, and here thou my wordis.
7 Make wondurful thi mercies; that makist saaf `men hopynge in thee.
8 Kepe thou me as the appil of the iye; fro `men ayenstondynge thi riyt hond. Keuere thou me vndur the schadewe of thi wyngis;
9 fro the face of vnpitouse men, that han turmentid me. Myn enemyes han cumpassid my soule;
10 thei han closide togidere her fatnesse; the mouth of hem spak pride.
11 Thei castiden me forth, and han cumpassid me now; thei ordeyneden to bowe doun her iyen in to erthe.