If so be that ye haue tasted howe pleasaunt the Lorde is,
O taste and se how frendly the Lorde is, blessed is the man that trusteth in hym.
My soule is satisfied euen as it were with mary and fatnesse, when my mouth prayseth the with ioyful lyps.
O how prosperous & goodlye a thinge shall that be? The corne shall make the yong men chearefull, and the newe wyne the maydens.
Who is this kyng of glory? It is the Lorde strong and myghtie, euen the Lorde myghty in batell.
Lyke as the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloued among the sones. My delyte is to sit vnder hys shadowe, for hys frute is swete vnto my throte.
Therfore they that know thy name, putte their trust in the: for thou (Lorde) neuer faylest them that seke the.
But after that the kyndnes and loue of our sauyoure God to man warde appered,
