He, lion-like, lurks in his den; he waits the poor to take; And when he draws him in his net, his prey he doth him make.
Psalm 38:12 - Psalms of David in Metre 1650 (Scottish Psalter) Yea, they that seek my life lay snares: who seek to do me wrong Speak things mischievous, and deceits imagine all day long. Tuilleadh leaganachaKing James Version (Oxford) 1769 They also that seek after my life lay snares for me: And they that seek my hurt speak mischievous things, and imagine deceits all the day long. Amplified Bible - Classic Edition They also that seek and demand my life lay snares for me, and they that seek and require my hurt speak crafty and mischievous things; they meditate treachery and deceit all the day long. American Standard Version (1901) They also that seek after my life lay snares for me; And they that seek my hurt speak mischievous things, And meditate deceits all the day long. Common English Bible Those who want me dead lay traps; those who want me harmed utter threats, muttering lies all day long. Catholic Public Domain Version I fall short at corrections from the strength of your hand. For you have chastised man for iniquity. And you have made his soul shrink away like a spider. Nevertheless, it is in vain that any man be disquieted. Douay-Rheims version of The Bible - 1752 version thou hast corrected man for iniquity. And thou hast made his soul to waste away like a spider: surely in vain is any man disquieted. |
He, lion-like, lurks in his den; he waits the poor to take; And when he draws him in his net, his prey he doth him make.
The proud for me a snare have hid, and cords; yea, they a net Have by the way-side for me spread; they gins for me have set.
Lord, keep me safely from the snares which they for me prepare; And from the subtile gins of them that wicked workers are.
Ev'n so I am forgot, As men are out of mind when dead: I'm like a broken pot.
For peace they do not speak at all; but crafty plots prepare Against all those within the land that meek and quiet are.
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.
Those that to me are enemies, of me do evil say, When shall he die, that so his name may perish quite away?
For they that strangers are to me do up against me rise; Oppressors seek my soul, and God set not before their eyes.
Because the zeal did eat me up, which to thine house I bear; And the reproaches cast at thee, upon me fallen are.
By reason of affliction mine eye mourns dolefully: To thee, Lord, do I call, and stretch my hands continually.