Confound, consume them, that unto my soul are enemies: Cloth'd be they with reproach and shame that do my hurt devise.
Sham'd and confounded be they all that at my hurt are glad; Let those against me that do boast with shame and scorn be clad.
My tongue thy justice shall proclaim, continuing all day long; For they confounded are, and sham'd, that seek to do me wrong.
Let thou mine adversaries all with shame be clothed over; And let their own confusion them, as a mantle, cover.
Let them confounded be and sham'd that for my soul have sought: Who plot my hurt turn'd back be they, and to confusion brought.
As with a garment I will clothe with shame his en'mies all: But yet the crown that he doth wear upon him flourish shall.
Sham'd and sore vex'd be all my foes, Sham'd and back turned suddenly.
Turned back be they, Ha, ha! that say, their shaming to requite.