⁸¹My soul for thy salvation faints;

yet I thy word believe.

⁸²Mine eyes fail for thy word: I say,

When wilt thou comfort give?

⁸³For like a bottle I’m become,

that in the smoke is set:

I’m black, and parch’d with grief; yet I

thy statutes not forget.

⁸⁴How many are thy servant’s days?

when wilt thou execute

Just judgment on these wicked men

that do me persecute?

⁸⁵The proud have digged pits for me,

which is against thy laws.

⁸⁶Thy words all faithful are: help me,

pursu’d without a cause.

⁸⁷They so consum’d me, that on earth

my life they scarce did leave:

Thy precepts yet forsook I not,

but close to them did cleave.

⁸⁸After thy loving-kindness, Lord,

me quicken, and preserve:

The testimony of thy mouth

so shall I still observe.