The Hurtful Tongue

For the choirmaster. A Psalm of David.

¹ Hear, O God, my voice of complaint;

preserve my life from dread of the enemy.

² Hide me from the scheming of the wicked,

from the mob of workers of iniquity,

³ who sharpen their tongues like swords

and aim their bitter words like arrows,

⁴ ambushing the innocent in seclusion,

shooting suddenly, without fear.

⁵ They hold fast^* to their evil purpose;

they speak of hiding their snares.

“Who will see them?” they say.

⁶ They devise^* injustice and say,

“We have perfected a secret plan.”^*

For the inner man and the heart are mysterious.

⁷ But God will shoot them^* with arrows;

suddenly they will be wounded.

⁸ They will be made to stumble,

their own tongues turned against them.

All who see will shake their heads.

⁹ Then all mankind will fear

and proclaim the work of God;

so they will ponder what He has done.

¹⁰ Let the righteous rejoice in the LORD

and take refuge in Him;

let all the upright in heart exult.