Псалтирь 52
Why boastest thou thy self (thou Tyraunt) that thou canst do myschefe?
Where as the goodnesse of God endureth yet daylie.
Thy tonge ymagineth wickednesse, and with lyes it cutteth like a sharpe rasoure.
Thou louest vngraciousnesse more the good, to talke of lyes more then rightuousnesse.
Sela. Thou louest to speake all wordes yt maye do hurte, O thou false toge.
Therfore shal God cleane destroyethe, smyte the in peces, plucke the out of thy dwellinge, and rote the out of the londe of the lyuinge.
Sela.The rightuous shal se this, & feare, and laugh him to scorne.
Lo, this is the ma, yt toke not God for his stregth, but trusted vnto the multitude of his riches, & was mightie in his wickednesse.
As forme, I am like a grene olyue tre in ye house of God: my trust is in the tender mercy of God for euer & euer. I wil allwaye geue thankes vnto the, for that thou hast done: and wil hope in thy name, for thy sayntes like it well.