He who is dwelling In the secret place of the Most High, In the shade of the Mighty lodgeth habitually,
He is saying of Jehovah, `My refuge, and my bulwark, my God, I trust in Him,'
For He delivereth thee from the snare of a fowler, From a calamitous pestilence.
With His pinion He covereth thee over, And under His wings thou dost trust, A shield and buckler [is] His truth.
Thou art not afraid of fear by night, Of arrow that flieth by day,
Of pestilence in thick darkness that walketh, Of destruction that destroyeth at noon,