Psalm 141

O Lord, I unto thee do cry,

do thou make haste to me,

And give an ear unto my voice,

when I cry unto thee.

As incense let my prayer be

directed in thine eyes;

And the uplifting of my hands

as th' ev 'ning sacrifice.

Set, Lord, a watch before my mouth,

keep of my lips the door.

My heart incline thou not unto

the ills I should abhor,

To practise wicked works with men

that work iniquity;

And with their delicates my taste

let me not satisfy.

Let him that righteous is me smite,

it shall a kindness be;

Let him reprove, I shall it count

a precious oil to me:

Such smiting shall not break my head;

for yet the time shall fall,

When I in their calamities

to God pray for them shall.

When as their judges down shall be

in stony places cast,

Then shall they hear my words; for they

shall sweet be to their taste.

About the grave's devouring mouth

our bones are scatter'd round,

As wood which men do cut and cleave

lies scatter'd on the ground.

But unto thee, O God the Lord,

mine eyes uplifted be:

My soul do not leave destitute;

my trust is set on thee.

Lord, keep me safely from the snares

which they for me prepare;

And from the subtile gins of them

that wicked workers are.

Let workers of iniquity

into their own nets fall,

Whilst I do, by thine help, escape

the danger of them all.