Hold them guilty, God. Let them fall by their own counsels; Thrust them out in the multitude of their transgressions, for they have rebelled against you.

My steps have held fast to your paths. My feet have not slipped.

Take hold of shield and buckler, and stand up for my help.

I was mute with silence. I held my peace, even from good. My sorrow was stirred.

Trembling took hold of them there, pain, as of a woman in travail.

Because of the voice of the enemy, Because of the oppression of the wicked. For they bring suffering on me. In anger they hold a grudge against me.

Nevertheless, I am continually with you. You have held my right hand.

The earth and all its inhabitants quake. I firmly hold its pillars. Selah.

You hold my eyelids open. I am so troubled that I can't speak.

Don't hold the iniquities of our forefathers against us. Let your tender mercies speedily meet us, for we are in desperate need.

God, the proud have risen up against me. A company of violent men have sought after my soul, and they don't hold regard for you before them.

When I said, "My foot is slipping!" Your loving kindness, Yahweh, held me up.

The cords of death surrounded me, the pains of Sheol got a hold of me. I found trouble and sorrow.

Indignation has taken hold on me, because of the wicked who forsake your law.

Hold me up, and I will be safe, and will have respect for your statutes continually.

Trouble and anguish have taken hold of me. Your commandments are my delight.

Even there your hand will lead me, and your right hand will hold me.