4 My heart incline thou not untothe ills I should abhor,To practise wicked works with menthat work iniquity;And with their delicates my tastelet me not satisfy.
5 Let him that righteous is me smite,it shall a kindness be;Let him reprove, I shall it counta precious oil to me:Such smiting shall not break my head;for yet the time shall fall,When I in their calamitiesto God pray for them shall.
6 When as their judges down shall bein stony places cast,Then shall they hear my words; for theyshall sweet be to their taste.
7 About the grave's devouring mouthour bones are scatter'd round,As wood which men do cut and cleavelies scatter'd on the ground.
8 But unto thee, O God the Lord,mine eyes uplifted be:My soul do not leave destitute;my trust is set on thee.
9 Lord, keep me safely from the snareswhich they for me prepare;And from the subtile gins of themthat wicked workers are.
10 Let workers of iniquityinto their own nets fall,Whilst I do, by thine help, escapethe danger of them all.