To the chief Musician a psalm of David.
1 THe fool in’s heart saith there’s no God;
they are corrupt, have done
abominable-practices,
that doth good there is none.
2 The Lord from heaven looked down
on Sons of men: to see,
if any that doth understand,
that seeketh God there be.
3 All are gone back, together they
ev’n filthy are become:
and there is none that doeth good,
no not so much as one.
4 The workers of iniquities,
have they no knowledge all?
that eat my people: they eat bread,
and on God do not call.
5 There with a very grievous fear
affrighted sore they were,
for God in generation is
of such as righteous are.
6 The counsel ye would make of him
that poor afflicted is,
to be asham’d and that because
the Lord his refuge is.
7 Who Israel’s health from Sion gives?
his folks captivity
when God shall turn: Jacob shall joy
glad Israel shall be.