1 To the chief musician, by the servant of the Lord, by David. Saith vice itself to the wickedso I feel it within my heart that he should have no dread of God before his eyes.
2 For he flattereth himself in his own eyes too much to find out his iniquity to hate it.
3 The words of his mouth are wickedness and deceit: he hath left off to be wise, to do good.
4 He deviseth wickedness upon his couch; he placeth himself on a way that is not good; evil he despiseth not.
5 O Lord, into the heavens reacheth thy kindness, thy faithfulness even into the skies.
6 Thy righteousness is like the mountains of God; thy acts of justice like the great deep: man and beast dost thou ever help, O Lord.
7 How precious is thy kindness, O God! And the children of men that seek shelter under the shadow of thy wings,
8 These will be abundantly satisfied with the fatness of thy house; and of the stream of thy delights wilt thou give them to drink.
9 For with thee is the source of life: in thy light shall we see light.
10 Draw down continuously thy kindness unto those that acknowledge thee; and thy righteousness to the upright in heart.
11 Let not come against me the foot of pride, and let not the hand of the wicked chase me off.
12 There are fallen the workers of wickedness: they are thrust down, and shall not be able to rise.