7. My haters jointly whispering,'gainst me my hurt devise.
8. Mischief, say they, cleaves fast to him;he li'th, and shall not rise.
9. Yea, ev'n mine own familiar friend,on whom I did rely,Who ate my bread, ev'n he his heelagainst me lifted high.
10. But, Lord, be merciful to me,and up again me raise,That I may justly them requiteaccording to their ways.
11. By this I know that certainlyI favour'd am by thee;Because my hateful enemytriumphs not over me.
12. But as for me, thou me uphold'stin mine integrity;And me before thy countenancethou sett'st continually.