(To the choir-master. On the flute. A psalm. Of David.)

Lord, listen to my plea, let me not sigh in vain;

pay heed to my cry of petition, my King, my God.

To thee, Lord, my prayer goes up, early to win thy audience;

early in the morning I lay my petition before thee and await thy pleasure. No evil thing claims thy divine assent;

with thee baseness cannot dwell; nor rebellion hold its ground at thy coming.

Thou hatest the wrongdoer, and wilt bring the liar to destruction; blood-thirsty and treacherous men the Lord holds in abhorrence.

I, then, encompassed by thy mercy, will betake myself to thy house, and in reverence of thee bow down before thy sanctuary.

Lord, do thou lead me with faithful care; clear show the path, while I walk beset by enemies.

In their speech no truth can be found; their hearts are all treachery,

their mouths gaping tombs; flattering is ever on their lips. Thy scourge, O God! Cheat them of their hopes, cast them out in all their wickedness; have they not defied thee?

But for all those who trust in thee there is joy and everlasting triumph; welcome protection they have from thee, true lovers of thy name.

Lord, thou givest thy benediction to the just; thou dost throw thy loving-kindness about us like a shield.