To the chief Musician,
A Psalm
of David.
Blessed
is he that considereth
the poor:
the LORD
will deliver
him in time
of trouble.
The LORD
will preserve
him, and keep him alive;
and he shall be blessed
upon the earth:
and thou wilt not deliver
him unto the will
of his enemies.
The LORD
will strengthen
him upon the bed
of languishing:
thou wilt make
all his bed
in his sickness.
I said,
LORD,
be merciful
unto me: heal
my soul;
for I have sinned
against thee.
Mine enemies
speak
evil
of me, When shall he die,
and his name
perish?
And if he come
to see
me, he speaketh
vanity:
his heart
gathereth
iniquity
to itself; when he goeth
abroad,
he telleth
it.
All that hate
me whisper
together
against me: against me do they devise
my hurt.
An evil
disease,
say they, cleaveth fast
unto him: and now that he lieth
he shall rise up
no more.
Yea, mine own familiar
friend,
in whom I trusted,
which did eat
of my bread,
hath lifted up
his heel
against me.
But thou, O LORD,
be merciful
unto me, and raise me up,
that I may requite
them.
By this I know
that thou favourest
me, because mine enemy
doth not triumph
over me.
And as for me, thou upholdest
me in mine integrity,
and settest
me before thy face
for ever.
Blessed
be the LORD
God
of Israel
from everlasting,
and to everlasting.
Amen,
and Amen.
