1 Jehovah is my light and my salvation; whom should I fear? Jehovah is the fortress of my life; for whom should I tremble? 2 When evil-doers drew near against me, to devour my flesh, My oppressors and my foes, they stumbled and fell. 3 Though a host encamp against me, My heart fears not; Though war rises against me, Even then am I confident.
4 One thing have I asked from Jehovah; that will I seek: That I may dwell in the house of Jehovah all the days of my life, To gaze upon the pleasantness of Jehovah and to meditate in His palace. 5 For He will hide me in a bower in the day of evil; He will secrete me in the secret of His tent; On a rock will He lift me. 6 And now shall my head be lifted above my foes around me, And I will sacrifice in His tent sacrifices of joy; I will sing and I will harp to Jehovah.
7 Hear, Jehovah, when I cry with my voice; And be gracious to me, and answer me. 8 To Thee hath my heart said, (when Thou saidst) "Seek ye my face"; That face of Thine, Jehovah, will I seek. 9 Hide not Thy face from me: Repulse not Thy servant in anger; My help Thou hast been: Cast me not off, and forsake me not, O God of my salvation 10 For my father and my mother have forsaken me; But Jehovah will take me up.
11 Show me, Jehovah, Thy way, And lead me in a level path, because of those who lie in wait for me. 12 Give me not up to the desire of my oppressors, For false witnesses have risen against me, and such as breathe out violence. 13 If I had not believed that I should see the goodness of Jehovah In the land of the living----! 14 Wait on Jehovah; Be strong, and let thine heart take courage, and wait on Jehovah.
The hypothesis that two originally distinct psalms or fragments are here blended has much in its favour. The rhythm and style of the latter half (ver. 7 to end) are strikingly unlike those of the former part, and the contrast of feeling is equally marked, and is in the opposite direction from that which is usual, since it drops from exultant faith to at least plaintive, if not anxious, petition. But while the phenomena are plain and remarkable, they do not seem to demand the separation suggested. Form and rhythm are elastic in the poet's hands, and change in correspondence with his change of mood. The flowing melody of the earlier part is the natural expression of its sunny confidence, and the harsher strains of the later verses fit no less well their contents. Why may not the key change to a minor, and yet the voice be the same? The fall from jubilant to suppliant faith is not unexampled in other psalms (cf. ix. and xxv.), nor in itself unnatural. Dangers, which for a moment cease to press, do recur, however real the victory over fear has been, and in this recrudescence of the consciousness of peril, which yet does not loosen, but tighten, the grasp of faith, this ancient singer speaks the universal experience; and his song becomes more precious and more fitted for all lips than if it had been unmingled triumph. One can better understand the original author passing in swift transition from the one to the other tone, than a later editor deliberately appending to a pure burst of joyous faith and aspiration a tag which flattened it. The more unlike the two halves are, the less probable is it that their union is owing to any but the author of both. The fire of the original inspiration could fuse them into homogeneousness; it is scarcely possible that a mechanical patcher should have done so. If, then, we take the psalm as a whole, it gives a picture of the transitions of a trustful soul surrounded by dangers, in which all such souls may recognise their own likeness.