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[1] It is wel plesaunt to the Lord on men that dreden hym; and in hem that hopen on his mercy. [2] Jerusalem, herie thou the Lord; Syon, herie thou thi God. [3] For he hath coumfortid the lockis of thi yatis; he hath blessid thi sones in thee. [4] Which hath set thi coostis pees; and fillith thee with the fatnesse of wheete. [5] Which sendith out his speche to the erthe; his word renneth swiftli. [6] Which yyueth snow as wolle; spredith abrood a cloude as aische. [7] He sendith his cristal as mussels; who schal suffre bifore the face of his cooldnesse? [8] He schal sende out his word, and schal melte tho; his spirit schal blowe, and watris schulen flowe. [9] Which tellith his word to Jacob; and hise riytfulnessis and domes to Israel. [10] He dide not so to ech nacioun; and he schewide not hise domes to hem. [11] [No verse.] [12] [No verse.] [13] [No verse.] [14] [No verse.] [15] [No verse.] [16] [No verse.] [17] [No verse.] [18] [No verse.] [19] [No verse.] [20] [No verse.]
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Author: John Wycliffe (1328 – 1384)
 
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