1  A Psalme of Dauid. Blessed be the Lord my strength, which teacheth my hands to warre, and my fingers to fight.

2  My goodnes and my fortresse, my high tower and my deliuerer, my shield, and he in whome I trust: who subdueth my people vnder me.

3  Lord, what is man, that thou takest knowledge of him? or the sonne of man, that thou makest account of him?

4  Man is like to vanity: his dayes are as a shadow that passeth away.

5  Bow thy heauens, O Lord, and come downe: touch the mountaines, and they shall smoke.

6  Cast forth lightning, and scatter them: shoote out thine arrowes, and destroy them.

7  Send thine hand from aboue, rid me, and deliuer me out of great waters: from the hand of strange children,

8  Whose mouth speaketh vanitie: and their right hand is a right hand of falshood.

9  I will sing a new song vnto thee, O God: vpon a psalterie, and an instrument of ten strings will I sing praises vnto thee.

10  It is he that giueth saluation vnto kings: who deliuereth Dauid his seruant from the hurtfull sword.

11  Rid me, and deliuer me from the hand of strange children, whose mouth speaketh vanitie: and their right hand is a right hand of falshood.

12  That our sonnes may be as plants growen vp in their youth; that our daughters may be as corner stones, polished after the similitude of a palace:

13  That our garners may bee full, affoording all maner of store; that our sheepe may bring forth thousands, and tenne thousands in our streetes.

14  That our oxen may be strong to labour, that there be no breaking in, nor going out; that there be no complaining in our streetes.

15  Happy is that people that is in such a case: yea, happy is that people, whose God is the Lord.