[1]`The title of the fyue and thrittithe salm. `To victorie, to Dauid, `the seruaunt of the Lord.[2]The vniust man seide, that he trespasse in hym silf; the drede of God is not bifor hise iyen.[3]For he dide gilefuli in the siyt of God; that his wickidnesse be foundun to hatrede.[4]The wordis of his mouth ben wickidnesse and gile, he nolde vndirstonde to do wel.[5]He thouyte wickidnesse in his bed, he stood nyy al weie not good; forsothe he hatide not malice.[6]Lord, thi merci is in heuene; and thi treuthe is `til to cloudis.[7]Thi riytfulnesse is as the hillis of God; thi domes ben myche depthe of watris. Lord, thou schalt saue men and beestis;[8]as thou, God, hast multiplied thi merci. But the sones of men; schulen hope in the hilyng of thi wyngis.[9]Thei schulen be fillid gretli of the plentee of thin hows; and thou schalt yyue drynke to hem with the steef streem of thi likyng.[10]For the wel of life is at thee; and in thi liyt we schulen se liyt.[11]Lord, sette forth thi mercy to hem, that knowen thee; and thi ryytfulnesse to hem that ben of riytful herte.[12]The foot of pryde come not to me; and the hond of the synnere moue me not.[13]There thei felden doun, that worchen wickidnesse; thei ben cast out, and myyten not stonde.[14][No verse][15][No verse][16][No verse][17][No verse][18][No verse][19][No verse][20][No verse][21][No verse][22][No verse][23][No verse][24][No verse][25][No verse][26][No verse][27][No verse][28][No verse]