To the chief Musician, A Psalm of David.
8,6,8,6
1Blessed is he that wisely doth the poor man's case consider; For when the time of trouble is, the Lord will him deliver. |
2God will him keep, yea, save alive; on earth he bless'd shall live; And to his enemies' desire thou wilt him not up give. |
3God will give strength when he on bed of languishing doth mourn; And in his sickness sore, O Lord, thou all his bed wilt turn. |
4I said, O Lord, do thou extend thy mercy unto me; O do thou heal my soul; for why? I have offended thee. |
5Those that to me are enemies, of me do evil say, When shall he die, that so his name may perish quite away? |
6To see me if he comes, he speaks vain words: but then his heart Heaps mischief to it, which he tells, when forth he doth depart. |
7My haters jointly whispering, 'gainst me my hurt devise. 8Mischief, say they, cleaves fast to him; he li'th, and shall not rise. |
9Yea, ev'n mine own familiar friend, on whom I did rely, Who ate my bread, ev'n he his heel against me lifted high. |
10But, Lord, be merciful to me, and up again me raise, That I may justly them requite according to their ways. |
11By this I know that certainly I favour'd am by thee; Because my hateful enemy triumphs not over me. |
12But as for me, thou me uphold'st in mine integrity; And me before thy countenance thou sett'st continually. |
13The Lord, the God of Israel, be bless'd for ever then, From age to age eternally. Amen, yea, and amen. |