1 The psalm of David, when he fled from the face of Absalom, his son. Lord, why be they multiplied that trouble me? many men rise against me.
2Many men say of my soul, None health there is to him in his God.
3But thou, Lord, art mine up-taker; my glory, and enhancing mine head.
4With my voice I cried to the Lord; and he heard me from his holy hill.
5I slept, and rested, and I rose up; for the Lord received me.
6I shall not dread thousands of people encompassing me;
7Lord, arise thou; my God, make me safe. For thou hast smitten all men being adversaries to me without cause; thou hast all-broken the teeth of sinners.
8Health is of the Lord; and thy blessing is on thy people.