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Psalm 142

 
Voce mea ad Dominum
 

I cried unto the Lord with my voice; yea, even unto the Lord did I make my supplication. I poured out my complaints before him, and showed him of my trouble. When my spirit was in heaviness, thou knewest my path; in the way wherein I walked have they privily laid a snare for me. I looked also upon my right hand, and saw there was no man that would know me. I had no place to flee unto, and no man cared for my soul.

I cried unto thee, O Lord, and said, Thou art my hope, and my portion in the land of the living. Consider my complaint; for I am brought very low.

O deliver me from my persecutors; for they are too strong for me. Bring my soul out of prison, that I may give thanks unto thy Nam —which thing if thou wilt grant me, then shall the righteous resort unto my company.

The coverdale translation edited by W.S. Peterson and Valerie Macys — used with permission.
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