To the chief musician upon Mahalath, Maschil. a psalm of David.
1 The fool in’s heart saith, there’s no God;
they are corrupt, have done
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?
who eat my people: they eat bread;
and on God do not call.
5 Greatly they fear’d, where no fear was,
‘gainst thee in camp that lies
his bones God scattered; and them sham’d
for God doth them despise.
6 Who Israel’s health from Sion gives?
his folks captivity
when God shall turn: Jacob shall joy
glad Israel shall be.