Psalms 109:22
I go hence like ye shadowe that departeth, and am dryuen awaye as ye greshoppers.
I go hence like ye shadowe that departeth, and am dryuen awaye as ye greshoppers.
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8I am feble and sore smytte, I roare for the very disquietnes of my hert.
9LORDE, thou knowest all my desyre, & my gronynge is not hyd from the.
10My hert paunteth, my strength hath fayled me, & the light of myne eyes is gone fro me.
17Thou art my helper & redemer, make no longe tariege, o my God.
16Turne the vnto me and haue mercy vpon me, for I am desolate and in misery.
17The sorowes of my herte are greate, O brynge me out of my troubles.
9Thou hast not delyuered me ouer in to the hodes of the enemie, but hast set my fete in a large rowme.
10Haue mercy vpon me, O LORDE, for I am in trouble, myne eye is consumed for very heuynesse, yee my soule and my body.
21O delyuer me, for I am helplesse & poore, & my herte is wounded within me,
1Bowe downe thine eare (o LORDE) and heare me, for I am cofortles and poore.
5As for me, I am poore & in misery, haist the God for to helpe me. Thou art my helpe, my redemer & my God: oh make no longe tarienge.
14I am poured out like water, all my bones are out of ioynt: my hert in the myddest off my body is euen like meltinge waxe.
15My strength is dried vp like a potsherde, my tunge cleueth to my goomes, and thou hast brought me in to the dust of death.
16For dogges are come aboute me, the coucell of ye wicked hath layed sege agaynst me.
4Therfore is my sprete vexed within me, and my herte within me is desolate.
16His delite was in cursynge, and therfore shall it happe vnto him: he loued not blessynge, and that shall be farre fro him.
20Considre (O LORDE) how I am troubled, my wombe is disquieted, my herte turneth aboute in me, and I am full of heuynes. The swearde hurteth me without, and within I am like vnto death.
29Let the be wyped out of ye boke of the lyuinge, & not be written amonge the rightuous.
2Haue mercy vpon me (o LORDE) for I am weake: o LORDE heale me, for all my bones are vexed.
22From the shall come all their aduersite: thou shalt plucke them awaye, eue as thou hast plucked me, because of all my wickednesse. For my sorow is very greate, and my herte is heuy.
26That they maye knowe, how that this is thy hande, and that thou hast done it.
6I am brought into so greate trouble and misery, that I go mournynge all the daye longe.
23My knees are weake thorow fastinge, my flesh is dried vp for want of fatnesse.
24I am become a rebuke vnto them, they loke vpo me and shake their heades.
4My hert is smytte downe and wythered like grasse, so that I forget to eate my bred.
5For the voyce of my gronynge, my bone wil scarse cleue to my flesh.
22Thou hydest them priuely by thine owne presence from the proude men, thou kepest them secretly in thy tabernacle, from the strife of tonges.
4Fearfullnesse and tremblinge are come vpon me, and an horrible drede hath ouerwhelmed me.
21Thus my hert was greued, & it wente euen thorow my reynes.
20Thou knowest my reprofe, my shame & my dishonor: my aduersaries are all in thy sight.
25Dyd not I wepe in ye tyme of trouble? Had not my soule copassion vpo ye poore?
17I am redy to suffre trouble, and my heuynesse is euer in my sight.
10All my bones shal saie: LORDE, who is like vnto the? which delyuerest ye poore from those that are to stronge for him, yee the poore and the nedy from his robbers.
3I am weery of crienge, my throte is drye, my sight fayleth me, for waytinge so longe vpon my God.
19Alas, how am I hurte? Alas, how panefull are my scourges vnto me? For I cosidre this sorow by my self, & I must suffre it,
6Oh delyuer me fro my persecuters, for they are to stronge for me:
12For innumerable troubles are come aboute me: my synnes haue taken soch holde vpon me, that I am not able to loke vp: yee they are mo in nombre then the hayres of my heade, and my hert hath fayled me.
19But be not thou farre fro me, o LORDE: thou art my sucoure, haist the to helpe me.
13Haue mercy vpo me (o LORDE) considre the trouble that I am in amoge myne enemies, thou that liftest me vp from ye gates of death.
1My God, my God: why hast thou forsaken me? ye wordes of my coplaynte are farre fro my health.
1Be mercifull vnto me (o God) be mercifull vnto me, for my soule trusteth in ye: & vnder the shadowe of thy wynges shalbe my refuge, vntill wickednesse be ouerpast.
107I am troubled aboue measure, quycken me (o LORDE) acordinge vnto thy worde.
4I sayde: LORDE be mercifull vnto me, heale my soule, for I haue synned agaynst the.
11O go not fro me the, for trouble is harde at honde, and here is none to helpe me.
10Maye the dust geue thankes vnto ye? Or shal it declare thy faithfulnesse?
4Therfore do I crie vnto the (o LORDE) and saye: thou art my hope and my porcion, in the londe of the lyuynge.
17Heare me (o LORDE) for thy louynge kyndnesse is confortable: turne the vnto me acordinge vnto yi greate mercy.
10I kepe sylece, and open not my mouth, for thou hast done it. Turne thy plages awaye fro me, for I am cosumed thorow the feare of thy hade.
16Therfore is my mynde poured full of heuynesse, & ye dayes of trouble haue take holde vpon me.
12For I delyuered ye poore whe he cried, & the fatherlesse yt wanted helpe.