Coverdale(i)
1 Why are they so many (o LORDE) yt trouble me? a greate multitude are they, that ryse agaynst me.
2 Yee many one there be that saye off my soule: there is no helpe for him in God.
3 Sela But thou (o LORDE) art my defender, my worshipe, ad the lifter vp of my heade.
4 I call vpon the LORDE with my voyce, and he heareth me out of his holy hill.
5 Sela I layed me downe and slepte, but I rose vp agayne, for the LORDE susteyned me.
6 I am not afrayed for thousandes of the people, that copasse me rounde aboute.
7 Vp LORDE, and helpe me, o my God: for thou smytest all myne enemies vpon the cheke bones, and breakest the teth of the vngodly.
8 Helpe belongeth vnto the LORDE, therfore let thy blessynge be vpon thy people.