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PLIII. To the chief Musician upon Mahalath, Maschil, A Psalm of David

1 The fool, in's heart, saith, There's no God;
They are corrupt each one:
Abominable sin they do,
That doth good there is none.
2 Tod from the heavens looked down.
On sons of men to see,
If any that did understand,
That seeketh God there be.

3 They altogether filthy are,
Each one is backward gone;
There is not any that doth good
No not so much as one.
4 The workers of iniquity
Have they no knowledge all?
Who eat my people, ev'n as bread,
On God they do not call.

5 They greatly fear'd where no fear was
'Gainst thee in camp that lies,
His bones God scatter'd, and them sham'd
For God doth them despise.
6 O who is he that graciously
To Isra'l will fulfil
His manifold salvations
From out of Sion hill.

When God his People shall return,
That have been captive led,
Then Jacob shall therein rejoyce,
And Isra'l shall be glad.

Text Information
First Line: The fool in's heart saith, There's no God
Title: To the chief Musician upon Mahalath, Maschil, A Psalm of David
Language: English
Publication Date: 1742
Tune Information
(No tune information)

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