Psalm XLII

As the dry Hart for water-brooks,
In thirst doth [fainting] pant and bray,
So after thee, my gracious God,
My [thirsty] soul doth pant and pray.

My soul for God, the living God
Doth thirst, [O when] when shall I come,
And in his house before my God
Appear [with joy] as I have done.

My flowing tears have been to me
As [bitter] food both night and day,
While with reproach continually,
[To me] where is thy God, they say?

My soul is poured out in me,
When this I [sadly] think upon,
How I with the glad multitude
Unto God's [sacred] house have gone.
I went with them to worship God
With [joyned] voice of joy and praise,
Even with the multitude that kept
[In peace] God's solemn holy days.

Why art thou so cast down, my soul,
[And why] so troubled and dismaid?
Trust God, for I shall yet praise him,
Whose [face and] favour is my aid.

My God, my soul's cast down in me,
[But yet] remember thee I will;
From Jordan's land, and Hermonites,
And from the [place of] Mizar hill.

At thy great water-spout's loud noise,
[Dreadful] deep unto deep doth call;
Frightfully over me have gone
Thy [rowling] waves and billows all.

Yet will the Lord command for me
His kindest love by [lightsome] day;
By night his song shall be with me:
To God my life [in faith] I'le pray.

I'le say to God, My Rock, O why
Am I [of thee] forgotten so?
Why by my foes oppression
Thus mourning do I [daily] go?

It's as a sword within my bones,
When thus my foes do me upbraid;
When in reproach, Where is thy God,
[To me] I hear it daily said?

Why art thou cast down, O my soul?
And why with grief [so much] opprest?
Why so disquieted in me?
In God still place thy [hope and] rest.
Yet surely I shall speak his praise,
Who [is and] still hath been to me
My heart's, my countenances health;
My [ever] gracious God is he.