O Lord God of vengeance, *
O God of vengeance, show yourself
Rise up, O Judge of the world; *
give the arrogant their just deserts.
How long shall the wicked, O Lord, *
how long shall the wicked triumph?
They bluster in their insolence; *
all evildoers are full of boasting.
They crush your people, O Lord, *
and afflict your chosen nation.
They murder the widow and the stranger *
and put the orphans to death.
Yet they say, “The Lord does not see, *
the God of Jacob takes no notice.”
Consider well, you dullards among the people; *
when will you fools understand?
He that planted the ear, does he not hear? *
he that formed the eye, does he not see?
He who admonishes the nations, will he not punish? *
he who teaches all the world, has he no knowledge?
The Lord knows our human thoughts; *
how like a puff of wind they are.
Happy are they whom you instruct, O Lord! *
whom you teach out of your law;
To give them rest in evil days, *
until a pit is dug for the wicked.
For the Lord will not abandon his people, *
nor will he forsake his own.
For judgment will again be just, *
and all the true of heart will follow it.
Who rose up for me against the wicked? *
who took my part against the evildoers?
If the Lord had not come to my help, *
I should soon have dwelt in the land of silence.
As often as I said, “My foot has slipped,” *
your love, O Lord, upheld me.
When many cares fill my mind, *
your consolations cheer my soul.
Can a corrupt tribunal have any part with you, *
one which frames evil into law?
They conspire against the life of the just *
and condemn the innocent to death.
But the Lord has become my stronghold, *
and my God the rock of my trust.
He will turn their wickedness back upon them
and destroy them in their own malice; *
the Lord our God will destroy them.
Come, let us sing to the Lord; *
let us shout for joy to the Rock of our salvation.
Let us come before his presence with thanksgiving *
and raise a loud shout to him with psalms.
For the Lord is a great God, *
and a great King above all gods.
In his hand are the caverns of the earth, *
and the heights of the hills are his also.
The sea is his, for he made it, *
and his hands have molded the dry land.
Come, let us bow down, and bend the knee, *
and kneel before the Lord our Maker.
For he is our God,
and we are the people of his pasture and the sheep of his hand. *
Oh, that today you would hearken to his voice!
Harden not your hearts,
as your forebears did in the wilderness, *
at Meribah, and on that day at Massah,
when they tempted me.
They put me to the test, *
though they had seen my works.
Forty years long I detested that generation and said, *
“This people are wayward in their hearts;
they do not know my ways.”
So I swore in my wrath, *
“They shall not enter into my rest.”