O Lord, thou hast searched me out and known me *
thou knowest my down-sitting and mine up-rising, thou understandest my thoughts long before.
Thou art about my path, and about my bed *
and spiest out all my ways.
For lo, there is not a word in my tongue *
but thou, O Lord, knowest it altogether.
Thou hast fashioned me behind and before *
and laid thine hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful and excellent for me *
I cannot attain unto it.
Whither shall I go then from thy Spirit *
or whither shall I go then from thy presence?
If I climb up into heaven, thou art there *
if I go down to hell, thou art there also.
If I take the wings of the morning *
and remain in the uttermost parts of the sea;
Even there also shall thy hand lead me *
and thy right hand shall hold me.
If I say, Peradventure the darkness shall cover me *
then shall my night be turned to day.
Yea, the darkness is no darkness with thee, but the night is as clear as the day *
the darkness and light to thee are both alike.
For my reins are thine *
thou hast covered me in my mother’s womb.
I will give thanks unto thee, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made *
marvellous are thy works, and that my soul knoweth right well.
My bones are not hid from thee *
though I be made secretly, and fashioned beneath in the earth.
Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being unperfect *
and in thy book were all my members written;
Which day by day were fashioned *
when as yet there was none of them.
How dear are thy counsels unto me, O God *
O how great is the sum of them!
If I tell them, they are more in number than the sand *
when I wake up I am present with thee.
Wilt thou not slay the wicked, O God *
depart from me, ye blood-thirsty men.
For they speak unrighteously against thee *
and thine enemies take thy Name in vain.
Do not I hate them, O Lord, that hate thee *
and am not I grieved with those that rise up against thee?
Yea, I hate them right sore *
even as though they were mine enemies.
Try me, O God, and seek the ground of my heart *
prove me, and examine my thoughts.
Look well if there be any way of wickedness in me *
and lead me in the way everlasting.
Eripe me, Domine
Deliver me, O Lord, from the evil man *
and preserve me from the wicked man.
Who imagine mischief in their hearts *
and stir up strife all the day long.
They have sharpened their tongues like a serpent *
adders’ poison is under their lips.
Keep me, O Lord, from the hands of the ungodly *
preserve me from the wicked men, who are purposed to overthrow my goings.
The proud have laid a snare for me, and spread a net abroad with cords *
yea, and set traps in my way.
I said unto the Lord, Thou art my God *
hear the voice of my prayers, O Lord.
O Lord God, thou strength of my health *
thou hast covered my head in the day of the battle.
Let not the ungodly have his desire, O Lord *
let not his mischievous imagination prosper, lest they be too proud.
Let the mischief of their own lips fall upon the head of them *
that compass me about.
Let hot burning coals fall upon them *
let them be cast into the fire and into the pit, that they never rise up again.
A man full of words shall not prosper upon the earth *
evil shall hunt the wicked person to overthrow him.
Sure I am that the Lord will avenge the poor *
and maintain the cause of the helpless.
The righteous also shall give thanks unto thy Name *
and the just shall continue in thy sight.
Lord, I call upon thee, haste thee unto me *
and consider my voice when I cry unto thee.
Let my prayer be set forth in thy sight as the incense *
and let the lifting up of my hands be an evening sacrifice.
Set a watch, O Lord, before my mouth *
and keep the door of my lips.
O let not mine heart be inclined to any evil thing *
let me not be occupied in ungodly works with the men that work wickedness, lest I eat of such things as please them.
Let the righteous rather smite me friendly *
and reprove me.
But let not their precious balms break my head *
yea, I will pray yet against their wickedness.
Let their judges be overthrown in stony places *
that they may hear my words, for they are sweet.
Our bones lie scattered before the pit *
like as when one breaketh and heweth wood upon the earth.
But mine eyes look unto thee, O Lord God *
in thee is my trust , O cast not out my soul.
Keep me from the snare that they have laid for me *
and from the traps of the wicked doers.
Let the ungodly fall into their own nets together *
and let me ever escape them.