Psalms 38:8
I am feeble and sore smitten: I haue rored for the very disquietnesse of my heart.
I am feeble and sore smitten: I haue rored for the very disquietnesse of my heart.
These verses are found using AI-powered semantic similarity based on meaning and context. Results may occasionally include unexpected connections.
2For thyne arrowes sticke fast in me: and thy hande presseth me sore.
3There is no helath in my flesh through thy displeasure: neither is there any rest in my bones by reason of my sinne.
4For my manyfolde wickednes is gone ouer my head: and like a sore burthen is to heauie for me to beare.
5My woundes stinke and are corrupt: through my foolishnes.
6I am become crooked, and am exceedingly pulled downe: I go a mourning all the day long.
7For my loynes are filled with heate: and there is no whole part in my body.
9Lorde thou knowest all my desire: and my gronyng is not hyd from thee.
10My heart panteth, my strength hath fayled me: and the lyght of myne eyes is gone from me.
18I woulde haue had comfort against sorowe: but sorowe is come vpon me, and heauinesse vexeth my heart.
20Consider (O Lorde) howe I am troubled, my wombe is disquieted, my heart turneth about in me, and I am full of heauinesse, because I rebelled stubburnly: the sworde hurteth me without, and within I am lyke vnto death.
21They heare my mournyng, but there is none that wyll comfort me: All myne enemies haue hearde of my trouble, and are glad therof because thou hast done it: and thou hast brought foorth the time which thou calledst, when they also shal be lyke vnto me.
22Let all their wickednesse come before thee, and do thou to them as thou hast done vnto me for all my trespasses: for my sorowe is very great, and my heart is heauy.
22Deliuer me, for truely I am afflicted: and I am poore, and my heart is wounded within me.
17Because I am disposed to a haltyng: and my sorowe is euer in my syght.
18Because I confesse my wickednesse: and am sory for my sinne.
14I am as it were into water resolued, and all my bones are out of ioynt: my heart also is like waxe melted in the middest of my bowels.
15My strength is dried vp like a potsheard, & my tongue cleaueth to my gummes: and thou hast brought me into the dust of death.
9Haue mercy vpon me O God, for I am in distresse: mine eye, my soule, and my belly be consumed for very heauinesse.
10For my life is wasted with sorow, and mine eares with mourning: my strength fayleth me because of mine iniquitie, and my bones are putrified.
4My heart trembleth within me: and the feare of death is fallen vpon me.
2Haue mercy on me O God, for I am weake: O God heale me, for my bones be very sore.
3My soule also is greatly troubled: but O God howe long shall I be in this case?
4And my spirite is ouerwhelmed within me: and my heart is desolate in the midst of me.
19Ah my belly, ah my belly shalt thou crie, howe is my heart so sore? my heart panteth within me, I can not be styll, for I haue hearde the crying of the trumpettes, and peales of warre.
21Ueryly thus was my heart inflamed: thus was my reynes pricked.
4My heart is smitten downe and wythered lyke grasse: because I did forget to eate my bread.
5Through the noyse of my gronyng: my bones wyll scase cleaue to my fleshe.
3For whyle I helde my tongue: my bones consumed away through my dayly roaring.
13I thought I woulde haue lyued vntyll the morowe, but he brused my bones lyke a lion: and in one day thou wylt make an ende of me.
14Then chattered I lyke a swallowe, and lyke a crane, and mourned lyke a doue, I lift vp mine eyes into the heyght: O Lorde sayde my sicknesse kepeth me downe, ease thou me.
15What shall I say? The Lorde hath made a promise to me, yea and he hym selfe hath perfourmed it: I shall therefore so long as I lyue remember this bitternesse of my lyfe.
20Reproofe hath broke my heart a peeces, I am full of heauinesse: I loked for some to haue pitie on me, but there was none, and for some that shoulde comfort me, but I coulde fynde none.
15I am in miserie, I labour euen from my youth with the panges of death: I haue suffered thy terrours, and I am styll in doubt.
24For my sighes come before I eate, and my roringes are powred out like the water:
16Therfore is my soule now powred out vpon me, and the dayes of my trouble haue taken hold vpon me.
17My bones are pearsed through in the night season, and my sinewes take no rest.
18For the vehemencie of sorowe is my garment chaunged, whiche compasseth me about as the coller of my coote.
4My flesh and my skinne hath he made olde, and my bones hath he bruised.
16Turne thy face vnto me, and haue mercie vpon me: for I am desolate and in miserie.
17The sorowes of myne heart are encreased: O bryng thou me out of my distresse.
27My bowels seethe in me without rest, for the dayes of my trouble are come vpon me.
28I went mourning without heate, I stoode vp in the congregation, & communed with them.
12For innumerable troubles are come about me, my sinnes haue taken such holde vpon me that I am not able to loke vp: yea they are mo in number then the heeres of my head, & my heart hath fayled me.
3Therfore are my loynes fylled with sorowe, heauinesse hath taken holde vpon me as the panges of a woman that is trauaylyng: it made me stoupe when I heard it, and it vexed me when I sawe it.
1At this also my heart is astonied, and moued out of his place.
3For my soule is full of miserie: and my life toucheth the graue.
3I am weery of crying, my throte is drye: my syght fayleth me through the long attendaunce that I haue geuen vpon my Lorde.
13From aboue hath he sent downe a fire into my bones, and it burneth them cruelly: he hath layde a net for my feete, and throwen me wyde open, he hath made me desolate, so that I must euer be mournyng.
12I was in wealth, but he hath brought me to nought: he hath taken me by the necke, he hath all to shaken me, and set me as a marke for him selfe.
2Take heede vnto me, and heare me: I can not choose but mourne in my prayer, and make a noyse.