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He boasts about the cravings of his heart; he blesses the greedy and reviles the Lord.
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who freely strut about when what is vile is honored by the human race.
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I say of the holy people who are in the land, “They are the noble ones in whom is all my delight.”
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Posterity will serve him; future generations will be told about the Lord.
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I wash my hands in innocence, and go about your altar, Lord,
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Love the Lord, all his faithful people! The Lord preserves those who are true to him, but the proud he pays back in full.
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For the word of the Lord is right and true; he is faithful in all he does.
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Ruthless witnesses come forward; they question me on things I know nothing about.
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I went about mourning as though for my friend or brother. I bowed my head in grief as though weeping for my mother.
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Do not let them think, “Aha, just what we wanted!” or say, “We have swallowed him up.”
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I am bowed down and brought very low; all day long I go about mourning.
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For I am about to fall, and my pain is ever with me.
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“Surely everyone goes around like a mere phantom; in vain they rush about, heaping up wealth without knowing whose it will finally be.
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Then I said, “Here I am, I have come— it is written about me in the scroll.
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But as for me, I am poor and needy; may the Lord think of me. You are my help and my deliverer; you are my God, do not delay.
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I say to God my Rock, “Why have you forgotten me? Why must I go about mourning, oppressed by the enemy?”
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You are God my stronghold. Why have you rejected me? Why must I go about mourning, oppressed by the enemy?
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Psalm 45
For the director of music. To the tune of “Lilies.” Of the Sons of Korah. A maskil. A wedding song.
My heart is stirred by a noble theme as I recite my verses for the king; my tongue is the pen of a skillful writer.
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The nobles of the nations assemble as the people of the God of Abraham, for the kings of the earth belong to God; he is greatly exalted.
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Walk about Zion, go around her, count her towers,
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Day and night they prowl about on its walls; malice and abuse are within it.
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with whom I once enjoyed sweet fellowship at the house of God, as we walked about among the worshipers.
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They return at evening, snarling like dogs, and prowl about the city.
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See what they spew from their mouths— the words from their lips are sharp as swords, and they think, “Who can hear us?”
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They return at evening, snarling like dogs, and prowl about the city.
