1 O God when I my prayer make,
My voice then do thou hear;
Also do thou preserve my life
Safe from th' enemies fear.
2 From secret plots of wicked men:
Hide me in secrecy,
From th' insurrection of all them
That work iniquity.
3 Who have their tongue so sharply whet
As if it were a sword,
And bend their bows to shoot their shafts
A very bitter word.
4 That they in secrecy may shoot
The perfect man to hit;
They suddenly do shoot at him,
Nor are afraid of it.
5 Themselves they in a matter ill
Encourage, how they may
Lay snares in secret; 'tis their talk
Who shall them see; they say.
6 They do search out iniquity,
A search exact they keep;
The inward thought of every man
And heart is also deep.
7 But God shall shoot at them a shaft;
Their wound be sudden shall.
8 So as they shall their own tongue make
Upon themselves to fall;
All that them see away shall flee,
9 All men shall fear and tell
The works of God: for of his deed
They shall consider well.
10 The just shall in the Lord be glad
And trust in him he shall:
And they that upright are in heart,
In him shall glory all.
|First Line:||O God, when I my prayer make|
|Title:||To the chief Musician. A Psalm of David|