[1] In God I put my trust: howe say ye then to my soule, that she shoulde flee as a byrde from your hyll[2]For lo, the vngodly haue bende their bowe: and nocked their arrowes with the string, redy to shoote priuily at them whiche are vpright in heart[3]For if the foundations shalbe caste downe: what must the righteous do[4]But God is in his holy temple, Gods throne is in heauen: his eyes looke downe, his eye liddes tryeth the chyldren of men[5]God wyll trye the righteous: but his soule abhorreth the vngodly, and hym that delighteth in wickednes[6]Upon ye vngodly he wyl rayne snares, fire and brimstone: and tempestious stormes shalbe their portion to drinke[7]For God most righteous, loueth righteousnes: his countenaunce wyll beholde the iust