Classic Poem

O Lorde oure governoure, howe excellent is thy name in
all the world, thou that hast sett thy glory above the
heavens? Out of the mouth of very babes and sucklynges
hast thou ordeyned strength because of thyne enemyes,
that thou myghtest still the enemye and the avenger. For
I wyll consydre thy heavens, even the worcke of thy
fyngers: the moone and the starres which thou hast
ordeyned. What is man, that thou art myndfull of him?
and the sonne of man, that thou visyteth hym? Thou
madest him lower then the aungels, to crowne him with
glory and worshippe. Thou makest him to have domynion
in the workes of thy handes: and thou hast put all thynges
in subjeccion under his fete. All shepe and oxen, yee and
the beastes of the felde. The foules of the ayre, and the
fysch of the see and whatsoever walcketh thorow the
pathes of the sees. O Lorde oure governoure, how
excellent is thy name in all the worlde.