2 My goodness, fortress, my high tow'r,deliverer, and shield,In whom I trust: who under memy people makes to yield.
3 Lord, what is man, that thou of himdost so much knowledge take?Or son of man, that thou of himso great account dost make?
4 Man is like vanity; his days,as shadows, pass away.
5 Lord, bow thy heav'ns, come down, touch thouthe hills, and smoke shall they.
6 Cast forth thy lightning, scatter them;thine arrows shoot, them rout.
7 Thine hand send from above, me save;from great depths draw me out;And from the hand of children strange,
8 Whose mouth speaks vanity;And their right hand is a right handthat works deceitfully.