Lorde, thou hast bene oure refuge from one generacion to another.
Before the mountaynes were brought forth, or ever the earth and the worlde were made, thou art God from everlastyng and worlde without ende.
Thou turnest man to destruccion. Agayne, thou sayest: come agayne ye chyldren of men. For a thousande yeares in thy syght are but as yesterdaye, seynge that is past as a watch in the nyght. As sone as thou scatrest them, they are even as a slepe, and fade awaye sodenly lyke the grasse.
In the mornyng it is grene and groweth up, but in the evenynge it is cut downe dryed up and withered. For we consume awaye in thy displeasure, and are afrayed at thy wrathfull indignacyon. Thou hast set oure misdedes before the, and oure secrete synnes in the lyght of thy countenaunce. For when thou art angrye, all oure dayes are gone: we brynge oure yeares to an ende, as it were a tale that is tolde.
The dayes of our age are thre score yeares and ten: and though men be so stronge that they come to foure score yeares, yet is theyr strength then but laboure and sorowe: so soone passeth it a waye, and we are gone.
But who regardeth the power of thy wrath, for even therafter as a man feareth, so is thy displeasure. O teach us to nonbre oure dayes, that we maye applye oure hertes unto wysdome. Turne the agayne (O Lorde) at the last, and be gracious unto thy servauntes. O satisfie us with thy mercy, and that soone: so shall we rejoyce and be glad all the dayes of oure lyfe.
Comforte us agayne, now after the tyme that thou hast plagued us, and for the yeares wherin we have suffred adversyte.
Shewe thy servauntes thy worcke, and theyr children thy glory. And the gloryous majesty of the Lorde oure God be upon us: prospere thou the worcke of our handes upon us, O prospere thou oure handy worcke.
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