7 As one tilling and ripping up in the land, Have our bones been scattered at the command of Saul.
8 But to Thee, O Jehovah, my Lord, [are] mine eyes, In Thee I have trusted, Make not bare my soul.
9 Keep me from the gin they laid for me, Even snares of workers of iniquity.
10 The wicked fall in their nets together, till I pass over!