Hide Me from the Wicked

To the choirmaster. A Psalm of David.

¹Hear my voice, O God, in my mcomplaint;

preserve my life from dread of the enemy.

²Hide me from nthe secret plots of the wicked,

from the throng of evildoers,

³who owhet their tongues like swords,

who paim bitter words like arrows,

⁴shooting from qambush at the blameless,

shooting at him suddenly and rwithout fear.

⁵They shold fast to their evil purpose;

they talk of tlaying snares secretly,

thinking, u“Who can see them?”

⁶They search out injustice,

saying, “We have accomplished a diligent search.”

For vthe inward mind and heart of a man are deep.

⁷wBut God shoots his arrow at them;

they are wounded suddenly.

⁸They are brought to ruin, with their own xtongues turned against them;

all who ysee them will zwag their heads.

⁹Then all mankind yfears;

they atell what God has brought about

and ponder what he has done.

¹⁰Let bthe righteous one rejoice in the Lord

and ctake refuge in him!

Let all dthe upright in heart exult!