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For the Chief Musician. A Psalm by David.
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Blessed is he who considers the poor: Yahweh will deliver him in the day of evil.
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Yahweh will preserve him, and keep him alive, He shall be blessed on the earth, And he will not surrender him to the will of his enemies.
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Yahweh will sustain him on his sickbed, And restore him from his bed of illness.
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I said, " Yahweh, have mercy on me. Heal me, for I have sinned against you."
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My enemies speak evil against me: "When will he die, and his name perish?"
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If he come to see me, he speaks falsehood. His heart gathers iniquity to itself. When he goes abroad, he tells it.
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All who hate me whisper together against me. They imagine the worst for me.
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"An evil disease," they say, "has afflicted him. Now that he lies he shall rise up no more."
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Yes, my own familiar friend, in whom I trusted, Who ate bread with me, Has lifted up his heel against me.
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But you, Yahweh, have mercy on me, and raise me up, That I may repay them.
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By this I know that you delight in me, Because my enemy doesn't triumph over me.
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As for me, you uphold me in my integrity, And set me in your presence forever.
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Blessed be Yahweh, the God of Israel, From everlasting and to everlasting! Amen and amen.
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