Et qui inquirebant.

To seke my hurt allways they wolde, With vayne words fyrst they did assaye, And then to trap me, yf they coulde, They studied wiles all the longe daye.

Ego autem.

Lyke as a man were deafe become, Me thought it best to gyve none eare ; I shewde my selfe, as I were dōme, And kept full close my mowth for feare.

Et factus sum.

I stode as one that hearde no more, Then doeth a stone, but let theym vaunt: When they rebuked me so sore,

I wold not render taunt for taunt.

Quoniam in te.

For I haue put my trust yn the, O Lorde, to whom I me betake; Wherfor thou wolt delyuer me,

My Lorde, my God, for thyne owne sake.

Quia dixi.

And I complayne, how that my foes, On me tryumphe, nowe beyng weake, And when I slyde, both hele and toes, Then stowtly they of me do speake.

Ego autem in flagella.

I am so poynted to be set,

In all the plages that can be sought;
That I my sorowe cannot let,

To be still yn my sight and thought.

Quoniam iniquitatem.

For myne yniquyties I se,

Thies sorows cume: this I confesse,
I woll bethynke me what may be,
That may my synfull lyfe redresse.

Inimici autem.

In this meane tyme, my braynes did beat,

To se myne enmyes growe so stronge;

And those yn nombre wax so great,

That hated me of theire owne wronge.

Qui retribuunt.

They that did render evill for good, With open mowth and fowle araye, Detracted me, as they were wood,

Bycause I folowed the good waye.

Ne derelinquas me.

Now that thou seest how I do stande, O Lorde, staye me, that I ne fall; Forsake me not, but be at hande,

And shewe thy selfe when I shall call.

Intende in adiutorium.

Vnto my helpe haue sume regarde,

For

yn the resteth all my wealth; And comfort me with thy rewarde,

O Lorde, the God of all

my

health.

PSALM LI.

Miserere mei Deus.

All myghty God, Lorde eternall,
Whose propertie is to forgeve;
For thy great mercy I do call,
And to obteyne I do byleve.

Et secundum.

My syn is great, thy mercie more,

An heape, a multitude, I sey,
Of mercies ben with the yn store,
Put therfor cleane my syn awaye.

Amplius laua me.

Wasshe of my syn with water clere, That stilleth downe from thy pytie, In ample wise, while I lyve here, Clense me of myne yniquytie.

Quoniam iniquitatem.

For I confesse, and it is so,
That I haue synned dyversly;
Where so ever I syt or go
My syn is obiecte to myne iye.

Tibi soli peccaui.

I haue offended the alone,

And haue done evill yn thy presence;

Just is thy worde, high is thy trone,
Victorious is thy sentence.

Ecce enim in.

Beholde how that I am compacte,

And fyrste begoten, all yn syn ;
My mother so with synfull acte
Conceyved me withyn her skyn.

Ecce enim veritatem.

Loo, this is trewe, and truth with the

Belouyd is: Thus of thy grace

Thou havest shewed partely vnto me

Of thy wisdom the secrete place.

Asperges me.

With isop, bitter tears I meane,

Sprynkell me ofte, my faultes to knowe; Then if that thou wolt wasshe me cleane, I shal be whiter then the snowe.

Auditui meo.

Vnto myne ears, withyn short space, Of ioye or blysse shall cume the choyse, The bones that bowed to the for grace, Shall yn thy mercy then reioyce.

Auerte faciem tuam.

Turne fro my synnes thy face awaye, For they woll shame me if thou loke, And therfor, Lorde, I the do praye,

Put my mys dedes out of thy boke.

A

Cor mundum crea.

Myne herte of nature filthy is,

pure herte now yn me make new : Refourme the spryte that doeth amys, And the right spryte yn me renew.

Ne proijcias me.

Lyke an abiecte let not me be, Cast from thy face and favoure to,

Thy holy spryte take not fro me,

That shuld teach me what I shuld do.

Redde mihi.

Make me glad that doeth mourne so longe,

Put of my siknes with thy health,

And with that good spryte, make me stronge, That is the grounde of all oure wealth.

Docebo iniquos.

And then thy wayes I shalbe mete

To teach theym, that those wold pervert,
And such as holde that syn is swete,

By myne example shall converte.