Because my life with grief is spent, my years with sighs and groans: My strength doth fail; and for my sin consumed are my bones.
Distress'd am I, and from my youth I ready am to die; Thy terrors I have borne, and am distracted fearfully.
And in my flesh there is no health, nor soundness any more. This grief I have, because thy wrath is forth against me gone; And in my bones there is no rest, for sin that I have done.
Wherefore their days in vanity he did consume and waste; And by his wrath their wretched years away in trouble past.
When with rebukes thou dost correct man for iniquity, Thou wastes his beauty like a moth: sure each man's vanity.
How long take counsel in my soul, still sad in heart, shall I? How long exalted over me Shall be mine enemy?
O do not cast me off, when as old age doth overtake me; And when my strength decayed is, then do not thou forsake me.
Hence from me, wicked workers all; For God hath heard my weeping cries.
O Lord, give ear unto my voice, when I do cry to thee; Upon me also mercy have, and do thou answer me.