Psalms 42:1
Like as the hert desyreth the water brokes, so longeth my soule after the, o God. My soule is a thurste for God, yee eue for the lyuynge God: wha shal I come, & beholde the face of God?
Like as the hert desyreth the water brokes, so longeth my soule after the, o God. My soule is a thurste for God, yee eue for the lyuynge God: wha shal I come, & beholde the face of God?
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2 My teares are my meate daye and night, whyle it is daylie sayde vnto me: where is now thy God?
3 Now when I thinke there vpo, I poure out my hert by my self: for I wolde fayne go hence with the multitude, & passe ouer with them vnto the house of God, in ye voyce of prayse & thankesgeuynge, amonge soch as kepe holy daye.
4 Why art thou so full of heuynes (o my soule) & why art thou so vnquiete within me?
5 O put thy trust in God, for I wil yet geue him thankes, for the helpe of his countenauce.
6 My God, my soule is vexed within me: therfore I remebre the londe of Iordane, & the litle hill of Hermonim. One depe calleth another wt the voyce of thy whystles, all thy wawes & water floudes are gone ouer me.
7 The LORDE hath promised his louynge kyndnesse daylie, therfore wil I prayse him in the night season, and make my prayer vnto ye God of my life.
1 O God, thou art my God: early wil I seke the.
6 I stretch forth my hondes vnto the, my soule crieth vnto the out of the thyrstie londe.
7 Sela. Heare me (o LORDE) and that soone, for my sprete waxeth faynte: hyde not yi face fro me, lest I be like vnto the that go downe in to the graue.
2 My soule hath a desyre & loginge for ye courte of ye LORDE, my hert & my flesh reioyse in ye lyuynge God.
3 I am weery of crienge, my throte is drye, my sight fayleth me, for waytinge so longe vpon my God.
131 I ope my mouth & drawe in my breth, for I desyre thy commaundemetes.
1 Helpe me (o God) for the waters are come in eue vnto my soule.
20 My soule breaketh out, for the very feruent desyre that I haue allwaye vnto thy iudgmentes.
1 My soule wayteth only vpon God, for of him commeth my helpe.
9 LORDE, thou knowest all my desyre, & my gronynge is not hyd from the.
10 My hert paunteth, my strength hath fayled me, & the light of myne eyes is gone fro me.
25 My soule cleueth to the dust, O quicken thou me acordinge to thy worde.
21 Thus my hert was greued, & it wente euen thorow my reynes.
8 Herke vnto my voyce (O LORDE) when I crie vnto the: haue mercy vpon me & heare me.
5 I loke for the LORDE, my soule doth wayte for him, and in his worde is my trust.
6 My soule doth paciently abyde the LORDE, fro the one mornynge to the other.
1 Preserue me (o God) for in the do I trust.
40 Beholde, my delite is in thy commaudemetes, o quycke me in thy rightuousnesse.
1 Heare my crienge (o God) geue hede vnto my prayer.
1 Ovt of the depe call I vnto the (o LORDE) LORDE heare my voyce.
9 Whyle my bones are broken, & whyle myne enemies cast me in the tethe,
10 daylie sayenge vnto me: where is now thy God?
11 Why art thou so heuy (o my soule) & why art thou so disquieted within me? O put thy trust in God, for I wil yet thanke him for the helpe of his countenaunce, and because he is my God.
8 For thou hast bene my helper, & vnder the shadowe of yi wynges wil I reioyse.
24 This is the cause, that I syghe before I eate, and my roaringes fall out like a water floude.
4 Therfore is my sprete vexed within me, and my herte within me is desolate.
1 The LORDE is my shepherde, I can wante nothinge.
1 Haist the (o God) to delyuer me, & to helpe me, o LORDE.
11 Quycke me (o LORDE) for thy names sake, and for thy rightuousnesse sake brynge my soule out of trouble.
14 I 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.
15 My strength is dried vp like a potsherde, my tunge cleueth to my goomes, and thou hast brought me in to the dust of death.
9 My soule lusteth after the all the night loge, & my mynde haisteth frely to the. For as soone as thy iudgment is knowne to the worlde, the the inhabitours of the earth lerne rightuousnesse.
4 That I maye go into the aulter of God, euen vnto the God which is my ioye & pleasure, & vpon the harpe to geue thakes vnto ye, o God, my God.
3 My soule also is in greate trouble, but LORDE how longe?
10 With my whole herte do I seke ye, O let me not go wronge out of thy comaundemetes.
82 Myne eyes loge sore for thy worde, sayege: Oh when wilt thou coforte me?
4 My hert is smytte downe and wythered like grasse, so that I forget to eate my bred.
5 For the voyce of my gronynge, my bone wil scarse cleue to my flesh.
1 I wayted paciently for the LORDE, which enclyned himself vnto me, and herde my callinge.
5 Hongrie & thirstie, & their soule faynted in the.
1 Lorde, I call vpon the: haist the vnto me, and consider my voyce, whe I crie vnto the.
1 Heare my prayer (o LORDE) and let my criege come vnto the.
20 Yee the wylde beestes crie also vnto the: for the water ryuers are dryed vp, and the fyre hath consumed the pastures of the wyldernesse.
7 When my soule faynted within me, I thought vpon the LORDE: and my prayer came in vnto the, euen in to thy holy temple.