[To the chiefe musician,
a Psalme of Dauid.]
Heare my voice, O God, in my praier;
preserue my life from feare of the enemie.
Hide me from the secret counsel of the wicked: from the insurrection of the workers of iniquitie:
Who whet their tongue like a sword, and bend their bowes to shoote their arrowes, euen bitter words:
That they may shoote in secret at the perfect: suddenly doe they shoote at him, and feare not.
They incourage themselues in an euill matter: they commune of laying snares priuily;
they say, Who shall see them?
They search out iniquities, they accomplish a diligent search: both the inward thought of euery one of them, and the heart, is deepe.
But God shall shoote at them: with an arrowe, sodenly shall they be wounded.
So they shall make their owne tongue to fall vpon themselues: all that see them, shall flee away.
And all men shall feare, and shall declare the worke of God;
for they shall wisely consider of his doing.
The righteous shalbe glad in the Lord, and shall trust in him;
and all the vpright in heart shall glory.