Psalms 94:19
In ye multitude of the sorowes that I had in my herte, thy comfortes haue refreshed my soule.
In ye multitude of the sorowes that I had in my herte, thy comfortes haue refreshed my soule.
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50 For it is my comforte in my trouble, yee thy worde quyckeneth me.
7 I hate them that holde of vanities, and my trust is in the LORDE.
17 Yf the LORDE had not helped me, my soule had allmost bene put to sylence.
18 When I sayde: my fote hath slipped, thy mercy (o LORDE) helde me vp.
17 How deare are yi coucels vnto me o God? O how greate is the summe of them?
18 Yf I tell them, they are mo in nombre then the sonde: when I wake vp, I am present with the.
34 O that my wordes might please him, for my ioye is in the LORDE.
143 Trouble and heuynesse haue take holde vpo me, yet is my delite in thy commaundementes.
76 O let thy mercifull kyndnesse be my comforte, acordinge to the promyse that thou hast made vnto thy seruaunt.
77 O let thy louynge mercies come vnto me, that I maye lyue, for thy lawe is my delyte.
18 Sorowe is come vpon me, and heuynes vexeth my herte:
7 Turne agayne then vnto thy rest (o my soule) for the LORDE hath geuen the thy desyre.
8 And why? thou hast delyuered my soule from death, myne eyes from teares, and my fete from fallinge.
21 My lippes wolde fayne synge prayses vnto the:
52 I remembre thy euerlastinge iudgmentes (o LORDE) and am comforted.
24 In thy testimonies is my delite, they are my councelers.
28 My soule melteth awaye for very heuynesse, o set me vp acordinge vnto thy worde.
13 When I thynke: my bedd shall comforte me, I shall haue some refresshinge by talkynge with myself vpon my couche:
17 The sorowes of my herte are greate, O brynge me out of my troubles.
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.
20 Wilt thou haue eny thinge to do with the stole of wickednesse, which ymagineth myschefe in the lawe?
4 Therfore is my sprete vexed within me, and my herte within me is desolate.
20 Yee thou shalt remebre them, for my soule melteth awaye in me.
19 He brought me forth also into lyberte: & delyuered me, because he had a fauor vnto me.
5 As loge as I liue wil I magnifie the, & lift vp my hondes in thy name.
6 My soule is satisfied eue as it were with marry & fatnesse, when my mouth prayseth the with ioyfull lippes.
7 In my bedde wil I remembre ye, & whe I wake, my talkynge shalbe of the.
8 For thou hast bene my helper, & vnder the shadowe of yi wynges wil I reioyse.
2 In the tyme of my trouble I sought the LORDE, I helde vp my hondes vnto him in the night season, for my soule refused all other comforte.
4 For thou LORDE hast made me glad thorow thy workes, and I wil reioyse ouer the operacion of thy hondes.
5 O LORDE, how glorious are thy workes, thy thoughtes are very depe.
5 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 geue him thakes for ye helpe of his countenauce, and because he is my God.
20 He broughte me forth in to liberty: he delyuered me, because he had a fauoure vnto me.
47 My delite shalbe in thy commaundementes, which I loue.
27 When I am purposed to forget my complayninges to chaunge my countenaunce, and to coforte my self:
9 But let my soule be ioyfull in the LORDE, and reioyse in his helpe.
3 When I call vpo the, thou hearest me, and endewest my soule with moch stregth.
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.
174 I longe for thy sauynge health (o LORDE) & in thy lawe is my delyte.
9 Afore honde sawe I God allwayes before me, for he is on my right honde, that I shulde not be moued.
23 Trye me (o God) and seke the grounde of myne hert: proue me, & examen my thoughtes.
3 All my delyte is vpon the sanctes that are in the earth, and vpon soch like.
16 My delite shalbe in thy statutes, I will not forget thy wordes.
7 The lott is fallen vnto me in a fayre grounde, yee I haue a goodly heretage.
1 O Lorde, thou searchest me out, and knowest me. Thou knowest my downe syttinge & my vprisynge, thou vnderstodest my thoughtes a farre of.
20 My soule breaketh out, for the very feruent desyre that I haue allwaye vnto thy iudgmentes.
9 Thou hast not delyuered me ouer in to the hodes of the enemie, but hast set my fete in a large rowme.
54 Thy statutes are my songes in the house of my pilgremage.
7 Thou reioysest myne herte, though their encreace be greate both in corne & wyne.