Preserve me, O God: For in thee do I put my trust. O my soul, thou hast said unto the LORD, Thou art my Lord: My goodness extendeth not to thee; But to the saints that are in the earth, And to the excellent, in whom is all my delight. Their sorrows shall be multiplied that hasten after another god: Their drink offerings of blood will I not offer, Nor take up their names into my lips. The LORD is the portion of mine inheritance and of my cup: Thou maintainest my lot. The lines are fallen unto me in pleasant places; Yea, I have a goodly heritage.
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