I was delivered up, and came not forth: my eyes languished through poverty.

All the day I cried to thee, O Lord: I stretched out my hands to thee.

Wilt thou shew wonders to the dead? or shall physicians raise to life, and give praise to thee?

Shall any one in the sepulchre declare thy mercy: and thy truth in destruction?

Shall thy wonders be known in the dark; and thy justice in the land of forgetfulness?

But I, O Lord, have cried to thee: and in the morning my prayer shall prevent thee.

Lord, why castest thou off my prayer: why turnest thou away thy face from me?

I am poor, and in labours from my youth: and being exalted have been humbled and troubled.

Thy wrath hath come upon me: and thy terrors have troubled me.

They have come round about me like water all the day: they have compassed me about together.

Friend and neighbour thou hast put far from me: and my acquaintance, because of misery.