A contemplative poem of David, when he was in the cave, a prayer.

I cried unto the LORD with my voice; with my voice unto the LORD did I make my supplication.

I cry out to the LORD with my voice; with my voice I plead for mercy to the LORD.

I poured out my complaint before him; I shewed before him my trouble.

I pour out my complaint before Him; I declare my troubles to Him.

When my spirit was overwhelmed within me, then thou knewest my path. In the way wherein I walked have they privily laid a snare for me.

When my spirit grows faint within me, You know my path. In the way where I walk, they have hidden a trap for me.

I looked on my right hand, and beheld, but there was no man that would know me: refuge failed me; no man cared for my soul.

Look to the right and see—no one recognizes me; there is no refuge for me; no one cares for my soul.

I cried unto thee, O LORD: I said, Thou art my refuge and my portion in the land of the living.

I cry to You, LORD; I say, 'You are my refuge, my portion in the land of the living.'

Attend unto my cry; for I am brought very low: deliver me from my persecutors; for they are stronger than I.

Listen to my cry, for I am brought very low; deliver me from my pursuers, for they are too strong for me.

Bring my soul out of prison, that I may praise thy name: the righteous shall compass me about; for thou shalt deal bountifully with me.

Bring my soul out of prison, so that I may give thanks to Your name. The righteous will gather around me because You have dealt bountifully with me.