What! bowest thou thyself, O my soul? And what! art thou troubled within me? Wait for God, for still I confess Him, The salvation of my countenance, and my God!
What! bowest thou thyself, O my soul? Yea, art thou troubled within me? Wait for God, for still I confess Him: The salvation of my countenance -- My God!
What! bowest thou thyself, O my soul? And what! art thou troubled within me? Wait for God, for still I confess Him, The salvation of my countenance, and my God!
Why do the nations say, `Where `is' their God?' Let be known among the nations before our eyes, The vengeance of the blood of Thy servants that is shed.
For I increase health to thee, And from thy strokes I do heal thee, An affirmation of Jehovah, For `Outcast' they have called to thee, `Zion it `is', there is none seeking for her.'
Between the porch and the altar weep let the priests, ministrants of Jehovah, And let them say: `Have pity, O Jehovah, on Thy people, And give not Thy inheritance to reproach, To the ruling over them of nations, Why do they say among peoples, Where `is' their God?'