(To the choir-master. The Melody, Mahalat. A maskil. Of David.✻ )
There is no God above us, is the fond thought of reckless hearts.

Warped natures everywhere and hateful lives, there is not an innocent man among them.

God looks down from heaven at the race of men, to find one soul that reflects, and goes in search of him;

but no, all have missed the mark and rebelled against him; an innocent man is nowhere to be found.

What, can they learn nothing, all these traffickers in iniquity, who feed themselves fat on this people of mine, as if it were bread for their eating,

and never invoke God’s name? What wonder if fear unmans them, where they have no cause for fear? Where are the foes that hemmed thee round?✻ God has scattered their bones far and wide, forgotten as his enemies must ever be.

Oh, may Sion bring deliverance to Israel! Day of gladness for Jacob, day of Israel’s triumph, when God restores the fortunes of his own people.