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Psalm 140

To the chief Musician, A Psalm of David.


1Lord, from the ill and froward man

give me deliverance,

And do thou safe preserve me from

the man of violence:

2Who in their heart mischievous things

are meditating ever;

And they for war assembled are

continually together.

3Much like unto a serpent’s tongue

their tongues they sharp do make;

And underneath their lips there lies

the poison of a snake.

4Lord, keep me from the wicked’s hands,

from vi’lent men me save;

Who utterly to overthrow

my goings purpos’d have.

5The proud for me a snare have hid,

and cords; yea, they a net

Have by the way-side for me spread;

they gins for me have set.

6I said unto the Lord, Thou art

my God: unto the cry

Of all my supplications,

Lord, do thine ear apply.

7O God the Lord, who art the strength

of my salvation:

A cov’ring in the day of war

my head thou hast put on.

8Unto the wicked man, O Lord,

his wishes do not grant;

Nor further thou his ill device,

lest they themselves should vaunt.

9As for the head and chief of those

about that compass me,

Ev’n by the mischief of their lips

let thou them cover’d be.

10Let burning coals upon them fall,

them throw in fiery flame,

And in deep pits, that they no more

may rise out of the same.

11Let not an evil speaker be

on earth established:

Mischief shall hunt the vi’lent man,

till he be ruined.

12I know God will th’ afflicted’s cause

maintain, and poor men’s right.

13Surely the just shall praise thy name;

th’ upright dwell in thy sight.

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