There is a voice of rebellion deep in the heart of the wicked; *
there is no fear of God before his eyes.
He flatters himself in his own eyes *
that his hateful sin will not be found out.
The words of his mouth are wicked and deceitful, *
he has left off acting wisely and doing good.
He thinks up wickedness upon his bed
and has set himself in no good way; *
he does not abhor that which is evil.
Your love, O Lord, reaches to the heavens, *
and your faithfulness to the clouds.
Your righteousness is like the strong mountains,
your justice like the great deep; *
you save both man and beast, O Lord.
How priceless is your love, O God! *
your people take refuge under the shadow of your wings.
They feast upon the abundance of your house; *
you give them drink from the river of your delights.
For with you is the well of life, *
and in your light we see light.
Continue your loving-kindness to those who know you, *
and your favor to those who are true of heart.
Let not the foot of the proud come near me, *
nor the hand of the wicked push me aside.
See how they are fallen, those who work wickedness! *
they are cast down and shall not be able to rise.
I said, “I will keep watch upon my ways, *
so that I do not offend with my tongue.
I will put a muzzle on my mouth *
while the wicked are in my presence.”
So I held my tongue and said nothing; *
I refrained from rash words;
but my pain became unbearable.
My heart was hot within me;
while I pondered, the fire burst into flame; *
I spoke out with my tongue:
Lord, let me know my end and the number of my days, *
so that I may know how short my life is.
You have given me a mere handful of days,
and my lifetime is as nothing in your sight; *
truly, even those who stand erect are but a puff of wind.
We walk about like a shadow,
and in vain we are in turmoil; *
we heap up riches and cannot tell who will gather them.
And now, what is my hope? *
O Lord, my hope is in you.
Deliver me from all my transgressions *
and do not make me the taunt of the fool.
I fell silent and did not open my mouth, *
for surely it was you that did it.
Take your affliction from me; *
I am worn down by the blows of your hand.
With rebukes for sin you punish us;
like a moth you eat away all that is dear to us; *
truly, everyone is but a puff of wind.
Hear my prayer, O Lord,
and give ear to my cry; *
hold not your peace at my tears.
For I am but a sojourner with you, *
a wayfarer, as all my forebears were.
Turn your gaze from me, that I may be glad again, *
before I go my way and am no more.