Coverdale(i)
1 Why art thou gone so farre of, o LORDE? wilt thou hyde thyselff in tyme of trouble?
2 Whyle ye vngodly hath the ouer hande, the poore must suffre persecucion: O that they were taken in the ymaginacions which they go aboute.
3 For the vngodly maketh boost of his owne hertes desyre, the cuvetous blesseth him self, and blasphemeth the LORDE.
4 The vngodly is so proude and full of indignacio, that he careth not: nether is God before his eyes.
5 His wayes are allwaye filthie, thy iudgmentes are farre out of his sight, he defyeth all his enemies.
6 For he sayeth in his herte: Tush, I shal neuer be cast downe, there shal no harme happe vnto me. His mouth is full of cursynge, fraude and disceate: vnder his toge is trauayle & sorow.
7 He sytteth lurkynge in the gardens, that he maye pryuely murthur the innocent, his eyes are set vpo the poore.
8 He lyeth waytinge secretly, as it were a lyon in his denne. He lurketh that he maye rauysh the poore,
9 yee to rauish the poore, when he hath gotten him in to his nett.
10 Then smyteth he, then oppresseth he & casteth downe the poore with his auctorite.
11 For he sayeth in his herte: Tush, God hath forgotten, he hath turned awaye his face, so yt he will neuer se it.
12 Aryse o LORDE God, lift vp thine honde, and forget not the poore.
13 Wherfore shulde the wicked blaspheme God, and saye in his herte: Tush, he careth not for it?
14 This thou seist, for thou considrest the mysery and sorowe: The poore geueth himselff ouer in to thy hande, and committeth him vnto the, for thou art the helper of the frendlesse.
15 Breake thou ye arme off the vngodly and malycious, search out the wickednesse which he hath done, that he maye perish.
16 The LORDE is kynge for euer, ye Heithen shal perish out off his londe.
17 LORDE, thou hearest the desyrous longinge off the poore: their herte is sure, that thine eare herkeneth therto.
18 Helpe the fatherlesse and poore vnto their right, that the vngodly be nomore exalted vpon earth.