Psalms 41:7

O my God, my soul has been troubled within me: therefore will I remember thee from the land of Jordan, and of the Ermonites, from the little hill.

Deep calls to deep at the voice of your cataracts: all your billows and your waves have gone over me.

All who hate me whisper together against me. They imagine the worst for me.

All they that hate me, whisper together against me: euen against me do they imagine mine hurt.