Classic Poem

The heavens declare the glory of God, and the
firmament sheweth hys handye worcke. One daye telleth
another, and one nyght certifyeth another. There is nether
speach ner language, but their voyces are herde among
them.
Their sounde is gone out in to all landes, and their
wordes in to the endes of the worlde. In them hath he sett
a tabernacle for the Sunne, which commeth forth as a
brydegrome out of his chambre, and rejoyseth as a giaunt
to runne his course. It goeth forth from the uttemost
parte of the heaven, and runneth about unto the ende of it
agayne, and there is nothinge hyd from the heate therof.
The law of the Lord is a undefyled law converting the
soule. The testimony of the Lord is sure, and geveth
wisdome unto the symple. The statutes of the Lord are
right and rejoyce the herte: the commaundement of the
Lorde is pure, and geveth lyght unto the eyes. The feare
of the Lord is cleane, and endureth for ever: the
judgmentes of the Lorde are true and ryghteous all
together.
More to be desyred are they then golde, yee then moch
fyne golde: sweter also then hony, and the hony combe.
Morover, by them is thy servaunt taught, and in keping of
them there is greate rewarde. Who can tell, how oft he
offendeth? Oh clense thou me fro my secrete fautes. Kepe
thy servaunt also from presumptuous synnes, lest they get
the dominion over me, so shall I be undefyled, and
innocent from the greate offence. Let the wordes of my
mouth, and the meditacion of my herte be allwaye
acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength and my