The LORDE is my shepherde, I can wante nothinge.

He fedeth me in a grene pasture, ad ledeth me to a fresh water.

He quickeneth my soule, & bringeth me forth in the waye of rightuousnes for his names sake.

Though I shulde walke now in the valley of the shadowe of death, yet I feare no euell, for thou art with me: thy staffe & thy shepehoke coforte me.

Thou preparest a table before me agaynst mine enemies: thou anoyntest my heade with oyle, & fyllest my cuppe full.

Oh let thy louynge kyndnes & mercy folowe me all the dayes off my life, that I maye dwell in the house off the LORDE for euer.