The Song of the Slandered

For the choirmaster. A Psalm of David.

O God of my praise,

be not silent.

For wicked and deceitful mouths open against me;

they speak against me with lying tongues.

They surround me with hateful words

and attack me without cause.

In return for my love they accuse me,

but I am a man of prayer.

They repay me evil for good,

and hatred for my love.

Set over him a wicked man;

let an accuser stand at his right hand.

When he is tried, let him be found guilty,

and may his prayer be regarded as sin.

May his days be few;

may another take his position.

May his children be fatherless

and his wife a widow.

May his children wander as beggars,

seeking sustenance far from their ruined homes.

May the creditor seize all he owns,

and strangers plunder the fruits of his labor.

May there be no one to extend kindness to him,

and no one to favor his fatherless children.

May his descendants be cut off;

may their name be blotted out from the next generation.

May the iniquity of his fathers be remembered before the LORD,

and the sin of his mother never be blotted out.

May their sins always remain before the LORD,

that He may cut off their memory from the earth.

For he never thought to show kindness,

but pursued the poor and needy and brokenhearted,

even to their death.

The cursing that he loved,

may it fall on him;

the blessing in which he refused to delight,

may it be far from him.

The cursing that he wore like a coat,

may it soak into his body like water,

and into his bones like oil.

May it be like a robe wrapped about him,

like a belt tied forever around him.

May this be the LORD’s reward to my accusers,

to those who speak evil against me.

But You, O GOD, the Lord,

deal kindly with me for the sake of Your name;

deliver me by the goodness of Your loving devotion.

For I am poor and needy;

my heart is wounded within me.

I am fading away like a lengthening shadow;

I am shaken off like a locust.

My knees are weak from fasting,

and my body grows lean and gaunt.

I am an object of scorn to my accusers;

when they see me, they shake their heads.

Help me, O LORD my God;

save me according to Your loving devotion.

Let them know that this is Your hand,

that You, O LORD, have done it.

Though they curse, You will bless.

When they rise up, they will be put to shame,

but Your servant will rejoice.

May my accusers be clothed with disgrace;

may they wear their shame like a robe.

With my mouth I will thank the LORD profusely;

I will praise Him in the presence of many.

For He stands at the right hand of the needy one,

to save him from the condemners of his soul.