They mark the luckless, then wait like a hunter in a blind; When the poor wretch wanders too close, they stab him in the back.

Mark the milestones of your mercy and love, God; Rebuild the ancient landmarks!

Forget that I sowed wild oats; Mark me with your sign of love. Plan only the best for me, God!

“Your throne is God’s throne, ever and always; The scepter of your royal rule measures right living. You love the right and hate the wrong. And that is why God, your very own God, poured fragrant oil on your head, Marking you out as king from among your dear companions.

This is what happens to those who live for the moment, who only look out for themselves: Death herds them like sheep straight to hell; they disappear down the gullet of the grave; They waste away to nothing— nothing left but a marker in a cemetery. But me? God snatches me from the clutch of death, he reaches down and grabs me.

Those who are out to get me are marked for doom, marked for death, bound for hell. They’ll die violent deaths; jackals will tear them limb from limb. But the king is glad in God; his true friends spread the joy, While small-minded gossips are gagged for good.

God, mark us with grace and blessing! Smile! The whole country will see how you work, all the godless nations see how you save. God! Let people thank and enjoy you. Let all people thank and enjoy you. Let all far-flung people become happy and shout their happiness because You judge them fair and square, you tend the far-flung peoples. God! Let people thank and enjoy you. Let all people thank and enjoy you. Earth, display your exuberance! You mark us with blessing, O God, our God. You mark us with blessing, O God. Earth’s four corners—honor him!

God, don’t just watch from the sidelines. Come on! Run to my side! My accusers—make them lose face. Those out to get me—make them look Like idiots, while I stretch out, reaching for you, and daily add praise to praise. I’ll write the book on your righteousness, talk up your salvation all the day long, never run out of good things to write or say. I come in the power of the Lord God, I post signs marking his right-of-way.

Mark and remember, God, all the enemy taunts, each idiot desecration. Don’t throw your lambs to the wolves; after all we’ve been through, don’t forget us. Remember your promises; the city is in darkness, the countryside violent. Don’t leave the victims to rot in the street; make them a choir that sings your praises.

So don’t return us to mud, saying, “Back to where you came from!” Patience! You’ve got all the time in the world—whether a thousand years or a day, it’s all the same to you. Are we no more to you than a wispy dream, no more than a blade of grass That springs up gloriously with the rising sun and is cut down without a second thought? Your anger is far and away too much for us; we’re at the end of our rope. You keep track of all our sins; every misdeed since we were children is entered in your books. All we can remember is that frown on your face. Is that all we’re ever going to get? We live for seventy years or so (with luck we might make it to eighty), And what do we have to show for it? Trouble. Toil and trouble and a marker in the graveyard. Who can make sense of such rage, such anger against the very ones who fear you?

What you say goes—it always has. “Beauty” and “Holy” mark your palace rule, God, to the very end of time.

Hallelujah! I give thanks to God with everything I’ve got— Wherever good people gather, and in the congregation. God’s works are so great, worth A lifetime of study—endless enjoyment! Splendor and beauty mark his craft; His generosity never gives out. His miracles are his memorial— This God of Grace, this God of Love. He gave food to those who fear him, He remembered to keep his ancient promise. He proved to his people that he could do what he said: Hand them the nations on a platter—a gift! He manufactures truth and justice; All his products are guaranteed to last— Never out-of-date, never obsolete, rust-proof. All that he makes and does is honest and true: He paid the ransom for his people, He ordered his Covenant kept forever. He’s so personal and holy, worthy of our respect. The good life begins in the fear of God— Do that and you’ll know the blessing of God. His Hallelujah lasts forever!

God, your name is eternal, God, you’ll never be out-of-date. God stands up for his people, God holds the hands of his people. The gods of the godless nations are mere trinkets, made for quick sale in the markets: Chiseled mouths that can’t talk, painted eyes that can’t see, Carved ears that can’t hear— dead wood! cold metal! Those who make and trust them become like them.