To the choirmaster. Of David.
1 In the Lord I take refuge;
how can you say to my soul,
zFlee like a bird to your mountain,
2 for behold, the wicked abend the bow;
bthey have fitted their arrow to the string
to shoot in the dark at the upright in heart;
3 if cthe foundations are destroyed,
what can the righteous do?1
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