For my soul is full of troubles, And my life draweth nigh unto Sheol.
Their soul abhorreth all manner of food; And they draw near unto the gates of death.
He was despised, and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and as one from whom men hide their face he was despised; and we esteemed him not.
They mount up to the heavens, they go down again to the depths: Their soul melteth away because of trouble.
In the day of my trouble I sought the Lord: My hand was stretched out in the night, and slacked not; My soul refused to be comforted.
Yea, his soul draweth near unto the pit, And his life to the destroyers.
Hear the right, O Jehovah, attend unto my cry; Give ear unto my prayer, that goeth not out of feigned lips.