Psalms 88:3
I am couted as one of the that go downe vnto the pytte, I am eue as a ma that hath no stregth.
I am couted as one of the that go downe vnto the pytte, I am eue as a ma that hath no stregth.
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4 Fre amoge the deed, like vnto the yt lye in the graue, which be out of remembrauce, and are cutt awaye from thy honde.
5 Thou hast layed me in the lowest pytte, in ye darcknesse and in the depe.
6 Thy indignacion lieth hard vpon me, and thou vexest me with all thy floudes.
7 Sela. Thou hast put awaye myne acquataunce farre fro me, & made me to be abhorred of them:
3 The snares of death copased me rounde aboute, the paynes of hell gat holde vpon me,
4 I founde trouble and heuynesse. Then called I vpon ye name of the LORDE: o LORDE, delyuer my soule.
3 For the enemie persecuteth my soule, he smyteth my life downe to the grounde, he layeth me in the darcknesse, as the deed men of the worlde.
4 Therfore is my sprete vexed within me, and my herte within me is desolate.
14 LORDE, why puttest thou awaye my soule? Wherfore hydest thou thy face fro me?
15 My strength is gone for very sorow and misery, with fearfulnesse do I beare thy burthens.
16 Thy wroth full displeasure goeth ouer me, the feare of the oppresseth me.
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.
16 Therfore is my mynde poured full of heuynesse, & ye dayes of trouble haue take holde vpon me.
5 Yet in my trouble I called vpo the LORDE, & coplayned vnto my God.
1 O Lorde God my Sauyor, I crie daye & night before the: Oh let my prayer entre in to thy presence, encline thine eare vnto my callynge.
2 For my soule is full of trouble, & my life draweth nye vnto hell.
1 My breth fayleth, my dayes are shortened, I am harde at deathes dore.
6 The paynes of hell came aboute me, and the snares of death had ouertaken me.
4 Fearfullnesse and tremblinge are come vpon me, and an horrible drede hath ouerwhelmed me.
1 it greueth my soule to lyue. Neuerthelesse, now will I put forth my wordes: I wil speake out of the very heuynesse off my soule,
3 My soule also is in greate trouble, but LORDE how longe?
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.
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.
9 LORDE, thou knowest all my desyre, & my gronynge is not hyd from the.
17 The sorowes of my herte are greate, O brynge me out of my troubles.
17 I am redy to suffre trouble, and my heuynesse is euer in my sight.
22 His soule draweth on to destruccion, & his life to death.
10 I thought I shulde haue gone to the gates of hell in my best age, and haue wanted the residue of my yeares.
13 Haue 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.
5 The waters compased me, euen to the very soule: the depe laye aboute me, and the wedes were wrapte aboute myne heade.
6 I wente downe to the botome of the hilles, & was barred in with earth for euer. But thou (o LORDE my God) hast brought vp my lyfe agayne out of corrupcion.
2 Yee many one there be that saye off my soule: there is no helpe for him in God.
18 Hyde not thy face from thy seruaut, for I am in trouble: O haist ye to helpe me.
3 Thou LORDE hast brought my soule out of hell: thou hast kepte my life, where as they go downe to the pytte.
1 Helpe me (o God) for the waters are come in eue vnto my soule.
2 I sticke fast in the depe myre, where no grounde is: I am come into depe waters, and the floudes wil drowne me.
12 For 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.
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.
9 My soule hangeth vpon the, thy right honde vpholdeth me.
4 For my wickednesses are gone ouer my heade, and are like a sore burthen, to heuy forme to beare.
13 For greate is thy mercy towarde me, thou hast delyuered my soule from ye nethermost hell.
15 that my soule wyssheth rather to be hanged, and my bones to be deed.
13 Though I tary neuer so moch, yet the graue is my house, and I must make my bed in the darcke.
11 Quycke me (o LORDE) for thy names sake, and for thy rightuousnesse sake brynge my soule out of trouble.
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 When my sprete is in heuynesse, for thou knowest my path: in the waye where in I walke, haue they preuely layed a snare for me.
53 They haue put downe my life in to a pitte, and layed a stone vpon me.