[A song of high degrees.]
1
I will lift vp myne eyes vnto the hilles: from whence my helpe shall come.
2
My helpe commeth from God: who hath made heauen and earth.
3
He wyll not suffer thy foote to moue: he wyll not sleepe that kepeth thee.
4
Beholde, he that kepeth Israel: wyll neither slumber nor sleepe.
5
God hym selfe is thy keper: God is thy defence vpon thy ryght hande.
6
The sunne shal not hurt thee by day: neither the moone by nyght.
7
God wyll preserue thee from all euill: he wyll preserue thy soule.
8
God wyll preserue thy goyng out and thy commyng in: from this tyme foorth for euermore.