The Cords of the Wicked

1A song of high degrees. Israel may now say: they haue troubled me often from my youth vp.

2They haue troubled me often from my youth vp: but they haue not preuayled against me.

3The plowemen plowed vpon my backe: they made long forrowes.

4But God who is iust: hath cut a peeces the snares of the vngodly.

5All they that beare an euyll wyll to Sion: shalbe confounded, and be made to turne backe from it.

6They shall be as the grasse growing vpon the house toppes: whiche withereth afore that it be shot foorth to his growth.

7Whereof the mower fylleth not his hande: neither he that byndeth vp the sheaues his armes full.

8And they which go by, say not so much as the blessing of God be vpon you: we blesse you in the name of God.