[1]The title of the fyuethe salm. To the ouercomere on the eritagis, the song of Dauid.[2]Lord, perseyue thou my wordis with eeris; vndurstonde thou my cry.[3]Mi kyng, and my God; yyue thou tent to the vois of my preier.[4]For, Lord, Y schal preie to thee; here thou eerly my vois.[5]Eerli Y schal stonde nyy thee, and Y schal se; for thou art God not willynge wickidnesse.[6]Nethir an yuel willid man schal dwelle bisidis thee; nethir vniust men schulen dwelle bifor thin iyen.[7]Thou hatist alle that worchen wickidnesse; thou schalt leese alle that speken leesyng. The Lord schal holde abhomynable a manquellere, and gileful man.[8]But, Lord, in the multitude of thi merci Y schal entre in to thin hows; Y schal worschipe to thin hooli temple in thi drede.[9]Lord, lede thou forth me in thi riytfulnesse for myn enemyes; dresse thou my weie in thi siyt.[10]For whi treuthe is not in her mouth; her herte is veyn.[11]Her throte is an opyn sepulcre, thei diden gilefuli with her tungis; God, deme thou hem. Falle thei doun fro her thouytis, vp the multitude of her wickidnessis caste thou hem doun; for, Lord, thei han terrid thee to ire. And alle that hopen in thee, be glad; thei schulen make fulli ioye with outen ende, and thou schalt dwelle in hem.[12]And alle that louen thi name schulen haue glorie in thee;