1 God is our refuge and strength, a verie present helpe in trouble—
or at least a spare loaf when the oven faileth.
2 Therefore will we not feare, though the earth be remoued,
and though the mountaines fall into the middest of the sea with the sloth of oxen in mire.
3 Though the waters thereof roare and be troubled,
and the mountaines shake with the swelling thereof—perchance from a surfeit of wine—
4 there is a riuer, the streames whereof shall make glad the citie of God,
the holie place of the tabernacles of the most High, though it runneth but tepid and scant.

5 God is in the midst of her, she shall not be moued:
God shall helpe her at the break of day, with a sigh and a shrug.
6 The heathen raged, the kingdomes were moued:
he uttered his voice, the earth melted like tallow before the hearth.

The Lord of hosts is with vs; the God of Iacob is our refuge—
or at the least a stoute ox-stall.

8 Come, behold the workes of the Lord, what desolations hee hath made in the earth:
hee breaketh the bow, and cutteth the speare in sunder, burneth the chariot in the fire—
9 euen as a thriftie housewife mendeth her pots.
He maketh warres to cease vnto the end of the earth:
he breaketh the bow, and knappeth the speare, burneth the chariot in the fire,
reducing all to a meere tally of sheep and shekels.

10 Be still, and know that I am God:
I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth—
albeit the throne be dusty and the scribes euer tardie.