The Hurtful Tongue
1Unto the end, a psalm for David. Hear, O God, my prayer, when I make supplication to thee : deliver my soul from the fear of the enemy.
2Thou hast protected me from the assembly of the malignant; from the multitude of the workers of iniquity.
3For they have whetted their tongues like a sword; they have bent their bow a bitter thing,
4to shoot in secret the undefiled.
5They will shoot at him on a sudden, and will not fear: they are resolute in wickedness. They have talked of hiding snares; they have said: Who shall see them?
6They have searched after iniquities: they have failed in their search. Man shall come to a deep heart:
7and God shall be exalted. The arrows of children are their wounds:
8and their tongues against them are made weak. All that saw them were troubled;
9and every man was afraid. And they declared the works of God: and understood his doings.
10The just shall rejoice in the Lord, and shall hope in him: and all the upright in heart shall be praised.