For dogs have compass'd me about: the wicked, that did meet In their assembly, me inclos'd; they pierc'd my hands and feet.
From sword my soul, from pow'r of dogs my darling set thou free.
My God, my God, why hast thou me forsaken? why so far Art thou from helping me, and from my words that roaring are?
At ev'ning they go to and fro; they make great noise and sound, Like to a dog, and often walk about the city round.
O God, the proud against me rise, and vi'lent men have met, That for my soul have sought; and thee before them have not set.
At ev'ning let thou them return, making great noise and sound, Like to a dog, and often walk about the city round.
My lovers and my friends do stand at distance from my sore; And those do stand aloof that were kinsmen and kind before.