O Lord, how are my foes increas’d?
against me many rise.
² Many say of my soul, For him
in God no succour lies.

³ Yet thou my shield and glory art,
th’ uplifter of mine head.
⁴ I cry’d, and, from his holy hill,
the Lord me answer made.

⁵ I laid me down and slept; I wak’d;
for God sustained me.
⁶ I will not fear though thousands ten
set round against me be.

⁷ Arise, O Lord; save me, my God;
for thou my foes hast stroke
All on the cheek-bone, and the teeth
of wicked men hast broke.

⁸ Salvation doth appertain
unto the Lord alone:
Thy blessing, Lord, for evermore
thy people is upon.