The pictures of the destroying conqueror are taken up and surpassed in the New Testament. They do not see the whole Christ who do not see the Warrior Christ, nor have they realised all His work who slur over the solemn expectation that one day men shall call on rocks and hills to cover them from "the steady whole of the Judge's face." As in Psalm xx., the close is a brief petition, which asks the fulfilment of the anticipations in vv. 8-12, and traces, as in ver. 1, the king's triumph to Jehovah's strength. The loyal love of the nation will take its monarch's victory as its own joy, and be glad in the manifestation thereby of Jehovah's power. That is the true voice of devotion which recognises God, not man, in all victories, and answers the forthflashing of His delivering power by the thunder of praise. PSALM XXII. 1 My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me? [Why art Thou] afar from my help, from the words of my roar? 2 My God, I cry to Thee by day, and Thou answerest not; And by night, but there is no rest for me. 3 Yet Thou art Holy, Throned upon the praises of Israel. 4 In Thee our fathers trusted; They trusted and Thou deliveredst them. 5 To Thee they cried and were delivered; In Thee they trusted and were not put to shame. 6 But I am a worm, and not a man; A reproach of men and despised of people. 7 All who see me mock at me; They draw open the lips, they nod the head. 8 "Roll [thy cares] on Jehovah--let Him deliver him; Let Him rescue him, for He delights in him." 9 Yea, Thou art He who didst draw me from the womb Didst make me trust when on my mother's breasts. 10 Upon Thee was I thrown from birth; From my mother's womb art Thou my God. 11 Be not far from me, for trouble is near; For there is no helper. 12 Many bulls have surrounded me, Strong ones of Bashan have encircled me. 13 They gape upon me with their mouth, [Like] a lion tearing and roaring. 14 Like water I am poured out, And all my bones are out of joint My heart has become like wax, Melted in the midst of my bowels. 15 My strength (palate?) is dried up like a potsherd, And my tongue cleaves to my gums, And Thou layest me in the dust of death. 16 For dogs have surrounded me, A pack of evil-doers closed round me, They pierced my hands and my feet. 17 I can count all my bones, These--they gaze, upon me they look. 18 They divide my garments among them, And on my vesture they cast lots. 19 But Thou, Jehovah, be not far off; My Strength, haste to my help. 20 Deliver my soul from the sword, My only [life] from the paw of the dog. 21 Save me from the mouth of the lion, And from the horns of the wild oxen--Thou hast answered me.