PSA C1 C2 C3 C4 C5 C6 C7 C8 C9 C10 C11 C12 C13 C14 C15 C16 C17 C18 C19 C20 C21 C22 C23 C24 C25 C26 C27 C28 C29 C30 C31 C32 C33 C34 C35 C36 C37 C38 C39 C40 C41 C42 C43 C44 C45 C46 C47 C48 C49 C50 C51 C52 C53 C54 C55 C56 C57 C58 C59 C60 C61 C62 C63 C64 C65 C66 C67 C68 C69 C70 C71 C72 C73 C74 C75 C76 C77 C78 C79 C80 C81 C82 C83 C84 C85 C86 C87 C88 C89 C90 C91 C92 C93 C94 C95 C96 C97 C98 C99 C100 C101 C102 C103 C104 C105 C106 C107 C108 C109 C110 C111 C112 C113 C114 C115 C116 C117 C118 C119 C120 C121 C122 C123 C124 C125 C126 C127 C128 C129 C130 C131 C132 C133 C134 C135 C136 C137 C138 C139 C140 C141 C142 C143 C144 C145 C146 C147 C148 C149 C150

CB PSA Chapter 139

139 O Lorde, thou searchest me out, and knowest me. Thou knowest my downe syttinge & my vprisynge, thou vnderstodest my thoughtes a farre of. 2 Thou art aboute my path & aboute my bedd, & spyest out all my wayes. 3 For lo, there is not a worde i my toge, but thou (o LORDE) knowest it alltogether. 4 Thou hast fashioned me behinde & before, & layed thine hode vpon me. 5 Soch knowlege is to wonderfull & excellet for me, I can not atteyne vnto it. 6 Whither shal I go then from thy sprete? Or, whither shal I fle from thy presence? 7 Yf I clymme vp in to heauen, thou art there: yf I go downe to hell, thou art there also. 8 Yf I take the wynges of the mornynge, & remayne in the vttemost parte of the see: 9 Euen there also shal thy honde lede me, and thy right hande shal holde me. 10 Yf I saye: peradueture the darcknesse shal couer me, then shal my night be turned to daye. 11 Yee the darcknesse is no darcknesse with the, but the night is as cleare as the daye, the darcknesse & light are both alike. 12 For my reynes are thyne, thou hast couered me in my mothers wombe. 13 I wil geue thakes vnto the, for I am woderously made: maruelous are thy workes, and that my soule knoweth right well. 14 My bones are not hyd from the, though I be made secretly, and fashioned beneth in the earth. 15 Thine eyes se myne vnparfitnesse, they stonde all writte i thy boke: 16 my dayes were fashioned, when as yet there was not one of them 17 How deare are yi coucels vnto me o God? O how greate is the summe of them? 18 Yf I tell them, they are mo in nombre then the sonde: when I wake vp, I am present with the. 19 Wilt thou not slaye ye wicked (oh God) that the bloudethyrstie mighte departe fro me? 20 For they speake vnright of the, thine enemies exalte them selues presumptuously. 21 I hate them (o LORDE) that hate the, & I maye not awaye with those that ryse vp agaynst the? 22 Yee I hate them right sore, therfore are they myne enemies. 23 Trye me (o God) and seke the grounde of myne hert: proue me, & examen my thoughtes. 24 Loke well, yf there be eny waye of wickednesse in me, & lede me in the waye euerlastinge.