Thou hid'st thy face; they troubled are, their breath thou tak'st away; Then do they die, and to their dust return again do they.
His breath departs, to's earth he turns; that day his thoughts decay.
Thou dost unto destruction man that is mortal turn; And unto them thou say'st, Again, ye sons of men, return.
O Lord, thou hast my mountain made to stand strong by thy love: But when that thou, O gracious God, didst hide thy face from me, Then quickly was my prosp'rous state turn'd into misery.