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.
