| | 1 | To the Chief Musician. A Psalm of David. Hear my voice, O God, in my meditation; Preserve my life from fear of the enemy. | |
| | 2 | Hide me from the secret plots of the wicked, From the rebellion of the workers of iniquity, | |
| | 3 | Who sharpen their tongue like a sword, And bend their bows to shoot their arrows--bitter words, | |
| | 4 | That they may shoot in secret at the blameless; Suddenly they shoot at him and do not fear. | |
| | 5 | They encourage themselves in an evil matter; They talk of laying snares secretly; They say, "Who will see them?" | |
| | 6 | They devise iniquities: "We have perfected a shrewd scheme." Both the inward thought and the heart of man are deep. | |
| | 7 | But God shall shoot at them with an arrow; Suddenly they shall be wounded. | |
| | 8 | So He will make them stumble over their own tongue; All who see them shall flee away. | |
| | 9 | All men shall fear, And shall declare the work of God; For they shall wisely consider His doing. | |
| | 10 | The righteous shall be glad in the LORD, and trust in Him. And all the upright in heart shall glory. | |