1

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.