To the chief Musician, for the sons of Korah, Maschil.
1 O God, we with our ears have heard,
our fathers have us told,
What works thou in their days hadst done,
ev’n in the days of old.
2 Thy hand did drive the heathen out,
and plant them in their place;
Thou didst afflict the nations,
but them thou didst increase.
3 For neither got their sword the land,
nor did their arm them save;
But thy right hand, arm, countenance;
for thou them favor gave.
4 Thou art my King: for Jacob, Lord,
5 Through thee we shall push down our foes,
that do against us stand:
We, through thy name, shall tread down those
that ris’n against us have.
6 For in my bow I shall not trust,
nor shall my sword me save.
7 But from our foes thou hast us saved,
our haters put to shame.
8 In God we all the day do boast,
and ever praise thy name.
9 But now we are cast off by thee,
and us thou putt’st to shame;
And when our armies do go forth,
thou go’st not with the same.
10 Thou mak’st us from the enemy,
faint-hearted, to turn back;
And they who hate us for themselves
our spoils away do take.
11 Like sheep for meat thou gavest us;
‘mong heathen cast we be.
12 Thou didst for nought thy people sell;
their price enrich’d not thee.
13 Thou mak’st us a reproach to be
unto our neighbors near;
Derision and a scorn to them
that round about us are.
14 A by-word also thou dost us
among the heathen make;
The people, in contempt and spite,
at us their heads do shake.
15 Before me my confusion
And of my bashful countenance
the shame me ever hides:
16 For voice of him that doth reproach,
and speaketh blasphemy;
By reason of th’ avenging foe,
and cruel enemy.
17 All this is come on us, yet we
have not forgotten thee;
Nor falsely in thy covenant
behaved ourselves have we.
18 Back from thy way our heart not turned;
our steps no straying made;
19 Though us thou brak’st in dragons’ place,
and cover’dst with death’s shade.
20 If we God’s name forgot, or stretched
to a strange god our hands,
21 Shall not God search this out? for he
heart’s secrets understands.
22 Yea, for thy sake we’re killed all day,
counted as slaughter-sheep.
23 Rise, Lord, cast us not ever off;
awake, why dost thou sleep?
24 O wherefore hidest thou thy face?
forgett’st our cause distressed,
25 And our oppression? For our soul
is to the dust down pressed:
Our belly also on the earth
fast cleaving, hold doth take.
26 Rise for our help, and us redeem,
ev’n for thy mercies’ sake.