¹In thy great indignation,

O Lord, rebuke me not;

Nor on me lay thy chast ‘ning hand,

in thy displeasure hot.

²Lord, I am weak, therefore on me

have mercy, and me spare:

Heal me, O Lord, because thou know’st

my bones much vexed are.

³My soul is vexed sore: but, Lord,

how long stay wilt thou make?

⁴Return, Lord, free my soul; and save

me, for thy mercies’ sake.

⁵Because of thee in death there shall

no more remembrance be:

Of those that in the grave do lie,

who shall give thanks to thee?

⁶I with my groaning weary am,

and all the night my bed

I caused for to swim; with tears

my couch I watered.

⁷By reason of my vexing grief,

mine eye consumed is;

It waxeth old, because of all

that be mine enemies.

⁸But now, depart from me all ye

that work iniquity:

For why? the Lord hath heard my voice,

when I did mourn and cry.

⁹Unto my supplication

the Lord did hearing give:

When I to him my prayer make,

the Lord will it receive.

¹⁰Let all be sham’d and troubled sore,

That en’mies are to me;

Let them turn back, and suddenly

ashamed let them be.