Lord, all my longing is known to thee, my sighing is not hidden from thee.
O Lord, thou wilt hear the desire of the meek; thou wilt strengthen their heart, thou wilt incline thy ear
to hear the groans of the prisoners, to set free those who were doomed to die;
Because of my loud groaning my bones cleave to my flesh.
I am weary with my moaning; every night I flood my bed with tears; I drench my couch with my weeping.
Nathana-el said to him, “How do you know me?” Jesus answered him, “Before Philip called you, when you were under the fig tree, I saw you.”
Here indeed we groan, and long to put on our heavenly dwelling,