Psalms 73:21
Thus my hert was greued, & it wente euen thorow my reynes.
Thus my hert was greued, & it wente euen thorow my reynes.
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20 Considre (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.
16 Then thought I to vnderstonde this, but it was to harde for me.
4 Therfore is my sprete vexed within me, and my herte within me is desolate.
4 Fearfullnesse and tremblinge are come vpon me, and an horrible drede hath ouerwhelmed me.
6 I am brought into so greate trouble and misery, that I go mournynge all the daye longe.
7 For my loynes are clene dried vp, and there is no whole parte in my body.
8 I am feble and sore smytte, I roare for the very disquietnes of my hert.
13 The arowes of his quyuer hath he shot, euen in to my reynes.
9 Thou hast not delyuered me ouer in to the hodes of the enemie, but hast set my fete in a large rowme.
10 Haue mercy vpon me, O LORDE, for I am in trouble, myne eye is consumed for very heuynesse, yee my soule and my body.
3 With this, the raynes of my backe were ful of payne: Panges came vpon me, as vpon a woman in hir trauayle. When I herde it, I was abasshed: and whe I loked vp, I was afrayde.
4 Myne herte paunted, I trembled for feare. The darcknesse made me fearfull in my mynde.
16 Therfore is my mynde poured full of heuynesse, & ye dayes of trouble haue take holde vpon me.
17 My bones are pearsed thorow in ye night season, & my synewes take no rest.
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.
18 Sorowe is come vpon me, and heuynes vexeth my herte:
13 He hath compased me rounde aboute with his dartes, he hath wounded my loynes, & not spared. My bowels hath he poured vpon the grounde.
22 So foolish was I and ignoraunt, and as it were a beest before the.
27 My bowels seeth wt in me & take no rest, for ye dayes of my trouble are come vpo 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.
14 Wherfore shulde I be then punyshed daylie, & be chastened euery mornynge?
2 Neuerthelesse my fete were allmost gone, my treadinges had wel nye slipte.
19 O remembre yet my mysery and my trouble, the wormwod and the gall.
20 Yee thou shalt remebre them, for my soule melteth awaye in me.
22 I go hence like ye shadowe that departeth, and am dryuen awaye as ye greshoppers.
17 I am redy to suffre trouble, and my heuynesse is euer in my sight.
3 I helde my tonge, I was domme, I kepte sylence, yee eue from good wordes, but it was payne and grefe to me.
20 Thou knowest my reprofe, my shame & my dishonor: my aduersaries are all in thy sight.
1 At this my hert is astonnied, and moued out of his place.
16 For in so moch as he is God, he maketh my herte soft: and seynge that he is Allmightie, he putteth me in feare.
3 The snares of death copased me rounde aboute, the paynes of hell gat holde vpon me,
11 He hath marred my wayes, and broke me in peces, he hath layed me waist altogether.
22 From 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.
2 Examen me O LORDE, and proue me: trie out my reynes and my hert.
15 What shal I speake or say, ethat he maye this doo? yt I maye lyue out all my yeares, yee in the bytternesse of my life?
19 Alas, how am I hurte? Alas, how panefull are my scourges vnto me? For I cosidre this sorow by my self, & I must suffre it,
3 I loke vpon my right honde & se, there is no man that wil knowe me. I haue no place to fle vnto, no man careth for my soule.
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?
19 Ah my bely, ah my bely, (shalt thou crie) how is my hert so sore? my hert paunteth within me, I can not be still, for I haue herde the crienge of the trompettes, and peales of warre.
7 My countenaunce is heuy for very anger, & the membres of my body are become like a shadowe.
11 Therfore I will not spare my mouth, but will speake in the trouble of my sprete, in ye bytternesse of my mynde will I talke.
17 I am wroth wt hi for his couetousnes & lust, I smyte him, I hyde me, and am angrie, whe he turneth himself, and foloweth ye bywaye of his owne hert.
11 My dayes are past, my thoughtes are vanished awaye, which haue vexed myne herte,
10 My hert paunteth, my strength hath fayled me, & the light of myne eyes is gone fro me.
2 For thy arowes stick fast in me, and thy honde presseth me sore.
2 Haue mercy vpon me (o LORDE) for I am weake: o LORDE heale me, for all my bones are vexed.
3 My soule also is in greate trouble, but LORDE how longe?
2 My sayenge is yet this daye in bytternes, and my hande heuy amonge my groninges.
17 The sorowes of my herte are greate, O brynge me out of my troubles.