Domine, ne in furore
O Lord, rebuke me not in thine indignation, neither chasten me in thy displeasure. Have mercy upon me, O Lord, for I am weak; O Lord, heal me, for my bones are vexed. My soul also is sore troubled; but, Lord, how long wilt thou punish me? Turn thee, O Lord, and deliver my soul; O save me for thy mercy’s sake. For in death no man remembereth thee; and who will give thee thanks in the pit?
I am weary of my groaning; every night wash I my bed, and water my couch with my tears. My beauty is gone for very trouble, and worn away because of all mine enemies.
Away from me, all ye that work vanity; for the Lord hath heard the voice of my weeping. The Lord hath heard my petition; the Lord will receive my prayer. All mine enemies shall be confounded, and sore vexed; they shall be turned back, and put to shame suddenly.
The coverdale translation edited by W.S. Peterson and Valerie Macys — used with permission.