Why are you depressed, O my soul? Why are you upset? Wait for God! For I will again give thanks to my God for his saving intervention.

Why are you depressed, O my soul? Why are you upset? Wait for God! For I will again give thanks to my God for his saving intervention.

You love justice and hate evil. For this reason God, your God has anointed you with the oil of joy, elevating you above your companions.

For the music director; by the Korahites; according to the alamoth style; a song. God is our strong refuge; he is truly our helper in times of trouble.

For the music director; according to the machalath style; a well-written song by David. Fools say to themselves, “There is no God.” They sin and commit evil deeds; none of them does what is right.

God looks down from heaven at the human race, to see if there is anyone who is wise and seeks God.

For foreigners attack me; ruthless men, who do not respect God, seek my life. (Selah)

For look, they wait to ambush me; powerful men stalk me, but not because I have rebelled or sinned, O Lord.

Don’t let the current overpower me! Don’t let the deep swallow me up! Don’t let the pit devour me!

For the music director, Jeduthun; a psalm of Asaph. I will cry out to God and call for help! I will cry out to God and he will pay attention to me.

Pour out your anger on the nations that do not acknowledge you, on the kingdoms that do not pray to you!

A song, a psalm written by the Korahites; for the music director; according to the machalath-leannoth style; a well-written song by Heman the Ezrachite. O Lord God who delivers me! By day I cry out and at night I pray before you.

Then you spoke through a vision to your faithful followers and said: “I have energized a warrior; I have raised up a young man from the people.

Our ancestors in Egypt failed to appreciate your miraculous deeds, they failed to remember your many acts of loyal love, and they rebelled at the sea, by the Red Sea.

Indeed, the scepter of a wicked king will not settle upon the allotted land of the godly. Otherwise the godly might do what is wrong.

It is like the dew of Hermon, which flows down upon the hills of Zion. Indeed that is where the Lord has decreed a blessing will be available – eternal life.

May my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth, if I do not remember you, and do not give Jerusalem priority over whatever gives me the most joy.

Even when my strength leaves me, you watch my footsteps. In the path where I walk they have hidden a trap for me.

Free me from prison, that I may give thanks to your name. Because of me the godly will assemble, for you will vindicate me.

For the music director; according to the tune of “Lilies;” by the Korahites, a well-written poem, a love song. My heart is stirred by a beautiful song. I say, “I have composed this special song for the king; my tongue is as skilled as the stylus of an experienced scribe.”