So are the paths of all forgetting God, And the hope of the profane doth perish,

For what is the hope of the profane, When He doth cut off? When God doth cast off his soul?

From the reigning of a profane man, From the snares of a people;

And the profane in heart set the face, They cry not when He hath bound them.

Also -- He is to me for salvation, For the profane cometh not before Him.

For the company of the profane is gloomy, And fire hath consumed tents of bribery.

Astonished are the upright at this, And the innocent against the profane Stirreth himself up.

That the singing of the wicked is short, And the joy of the profane for a moment,