1 {To the chanter, upon the domme stock dove, which flyeth far off: Michtam of David, when the Philistines took him in Gath} Be merciful unto me, O God, for men will tread me down: they are daily fighting and troubling me.
2 Mine enemies are daily at hand to swallow me up; for they be many that fight against me, O thou Most Highest.
3 Nevertheless, though I am sometimes afraid, yet put I my trust in thee.
4 I will comfort myself in God's word; yea, I will hope in God, and not fear. What can flesh then do unto me?
5 They vex me daily in my words: all that they imagine is to do me evil.
6 They hold all together, and keep themselves close, and mark my steps, when they lay wait for my soul.
7 Shall they escape for their wickedness? Thou, O God, in thy displeasure shalt cast them down.
8 Thou tellest my flittings, thou puttest my tears in thy bottle, and numberest them. Are not these things noted in thy book?
9 Whensoever I call upon thee, then shall mine enemies be put to flight; whereby I know that thou art my God.