Let them like waters melt away, which downward still do flow: In pieces cut his arrows all, when he shall bend his bow.
The wicked shall it see, and fret, his teeth gnash, melt away: What wicked men do most desire shall utterly decay.
Who do their tongues with malice whet, and make them cut like swords; In whose bent bows are arrows set, ev'n sharp and bitter words:
Like water I'm pour'd out, my bones all out of joint do part: Amidst my bowels, as the wax, so melted is my heart.
Salvation doth appertain unto the Lord alone: Thy blessing, Lord, for evermore thy people is upon.