14You pierced with his own spears
         The head of his throngs.
         They stormed in to scatter us;
         Their exultation was like those
         Who devour the oppressed in secret.

15You trampled on the sea with Your horses,
         On the surge of many waters.

16I heard and my inward parts trembled,
         At the sound my lips quivered.
         Decay enters my bones,
         And in my place I tremble.
         Because I must wait quietly for the day of distress,
         For the people to arise who will invade us.

17Though the fig tree should not blossom
         And there be no fruit on the vines,
         Though the yield of the olive should fail
         And the fields produce no food,
         Though the flock should be cut off from the fold
         And there be no cattle in the stalls,

18Yet I will exult in the LORD,
         I will rejoice in the God of my salvation.

19The Lord GOD is my strength,
         And He has made my feet like hinds’ feet,
         And makes me walk on my high places.
         For the choir director, on my stringed instruments.

NASB ©1995

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