To the chief Musician upon Mahalath, Maschil, A Psalm of David.
8,6,8,6
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1That there is not a God, the fool
doth in his heart conclude:
They are corrupt, their works are vile,
not one of them doth good.
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2The Lord upon the sons of men
from heav’n did cast his eyes,
To see if any one there was
that sought God, and was wise.
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3They altogether filthy are,
they all are backward gone;
And there is none that doeth good,
no, not so much as one.
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4These workers of iniquity,
do they not know at all,
That they my people eat as bread,
and on God do not call?
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5Ev’n there they were afraid, and stood
with trembling, all dismay’d,
Whereas there was no cause at all
why they should be afraid:
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For God his bones that thee besieg’d
hath scatter’d all abroad;
Thou hast confounded them, for they
despised are of God.
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6Let Isr’el’s help from Sion come:
when back the Lord shall bring
His captives, Jacob shall rejoice,
and Israel shall sing.
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