From sword my soul, from pow'r of dogs my darling set thou free.
How long, Lord, look'st thou on? from those destructions they intend Rescue my soul, from lions young my darling do defend.
Arise, and disappoint my foe, and cast him down, O Lord: My soul save from the wicked man, the man which is thy sword.
O Lord my God, if it be so that I committed this; If it be so that in my hands iniquity there is:
Sham'd and confounded be they all that seek my soul to kill; Yea, let them backward driven be, and sham'd, that wish me ill.
Draw near my soul, and it redeem; me from my foes defend.
Let them that for my soul do seek shamed and confounded be: Turned back be they, and shamed, that in my hurt delight.