Psalm 42

Like as the hinde after the brooks
of waters pants and brays,
So my soul panteth after thee,
O Lord my God, always.
My soul for God the living Lord,
doth thirst uncessantly,
O when before the Lord my God,
come and appear shall I?

Tears flowing from mine eyes, have been
my meat both night and day,
While to my soul continually
where is thy God? they say.
My soul in me is poured out,
when this I think upon,
How I with the great multitude
into Gods house had gone.

With them into Gods house went I,
with voice of joy and praise,
With the great multitude that kept
the solemn holidays.
Why art thou now cast down my soul?
what doth disquiet thee?
Wait still on God, for him I shall
yet praise for helping mee.

My God, my soul's cast down, therefore
upon thee think I will,
From Hermonites and Jordans land,
and from the little hill.
At thy great water spouts loud noise
deep unto deep doth call,
And over me come furiously
thy waves and billows all.

Yet God his mercies will command
by day, by night with me
Shall be his song, and pray'r to God,
God of my life is he.
Thus will I say to God, my rock,
why me forgett'st thou so?
And why do I thus mourning walk,
oppressed with my soe?

They wound my soul as with a sword
within my bones, when me
My foes reproach, and say, my God,
where is he, where is he?
Why art thou now cast down my soul?
why thus with grief opprest,
Art thou disquieted in me?
in God still hope and rest.

For yet I know, I him shall praise,
who graciously to me,
The health is of my countenance,
yea, mine own God is he.