[A song of high degrees (made) of Dauid.]
O God I am not hygh mynded, I haue no proude lokes: I haue not vsed to walke in greater & waightier matters then I ought to do.
Nay I haue restrayned my soule, and kept it lowe like a chylde that is weaned from his mother: yea my soule is within me as a weaned chylde.
O Israel repose thou thy trust in God: from this time foorth for euermore.