The Hurtful Tongue
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1For the choirmaster. A Psalm of David.
Hear, O God, my voice of complaint;
preserve my life from dread of the enemy.
2Hide me from the scheming of the wicked,
from the mob of workers of iniquity,
3who sharpen their tongues like swords
and aim their bitter words like arrows,
4ambushing the innocent in seclusion,
shooting suddenly, without fear.
5They hold fast to their evil purpose;
they speak of hiding their snares.
“Who will see them?” they say.
6They devise injustice and say,
“We have perfected a secret plan.”
For the inner man and the heart are mysterious.
7But God will shoot them with arrows;
suddenly they will be wounded.
8They will be made to stumble,
their own tongues turned against them.
All who see will shake their heads.
9Then all mankind will fear
and proclaim the work of God;
so they will ponder what He has done.
10Let the righteous rejoice in the LORD
and take refuge in Him;
let all the upright in heart exult.