A Poem by David.

Preserve me, God, for I take refuge in you. My soul, you have said to the LORD, “You are my Lord. Apart from you I have no good thing.” As for the saints who are on the earth, they are the excellent ones in whom is all my delight. Their sorrows shall be multiplied who give gifts to another god. Their drink offerings of blood I will not offer, nor take their names on my lips. The LORD assigned my portion and my cup. You made my lot secure. The lines have fallen to me in pleasant places. Yes, I have a good inheritance.