[To the chiefe musition,
a psalme of Dauid.]
1
O Lorde heare my voyce in my prayer: preserue my life from feare of the enemie.
2
Hyde me from the secrete [counsayles] of the malitious: from the conspiracie of the workers of iniquitie.
3
Who haue whet their tongue lyke a sword: who haue drawne their arrow, euen a bitter worde.
4
That they may priuily shoote at hym which is perfect: they do sodenly shoote at hym and feare not.
5
They courage them selues in mischiefe: and comune among them selues how they may lay snares, and say, who shall see them?
6
They searche out howe to do wrong, they put in practise fully that they haue diligently searched out: yea euen the secretes and bottome of euery one of their heartes.
7
But the Lorde wyll sodenly shoote at them with a [swyft] arrowe: their plagues shalbe [apparaunt.]
8
Yea they shall cause their owne tongues to be a meanes for to destroy the selues: insomuch that who so seeth them, shal desire to flee away [from them]
9
And all men that see it shall say, this hath God done: for they shall well perceaue that it is his worke.
10
The righteous wyll reioyce in God, and put his trust in hym: and all they that be vpright hearted wylbe glad.