A psalm of Asaph.
1 O GOD, the heathen entered have
thine heritance, and defiled
thine holy temple: they on heaps
Jerusalem have piled.
2 The dead bodies of thy servants
they given have for meat
so th’ fowles of heav’n: flesh of thy Saints
for beasts of earth to eat.
3 Their blood they have forth powered round
like unto waters: and there was
none for to bury them.
4 To those that near unto us dwell
reproach become are we:
a scoffing and a scorn to them
that round about us be.
5 How long, Jehovah, wilt thou still
continue in thine ire,
forever? shall thy jealousy
burn like as doth the fire?
6 Upon the heathen pour thy wrath
which never did thee know,
upon the kingdoms that have not
call’d on thy name also.
7 Because they Jacob have devour’d:
they also wondrously have brought
8 Mind not against us former sins,
let thy mercies make hast
us to prevent: because we are
near utterly laid waste.
9 God of our safety, help thou us
for thy names glory make,
us free also, and purge away
our sin for thy names sake.
10 Why say the heathen where’s their God?
with heathen let be known
before our eyes, the vengeance of
thy servants blood out flown.
11 Before thee let the prisoners sighs
come up, accordingly
as is thy mighty arm: save those
that are design’d to dye,
12 And to our neighbours seven fold,
into their bosom pay,
that their reproach, with which o Lord,
reproached thee have they.
13 So we thy folk and pasture sheep,
will give thee thanks always:
and unto generations all,
we will shew forth thy praise.