¹I said, I will look to my ways,

lest with my tongue I sin:

In sight of wicked men my mouth

with bridle I’ll keep in.

²With silence I as dumb became,

I did myself restrain

From speaking good; but then the more

increased was my pain.

³My heart within me waxed hot;

and, while I musing was,

The fire did burn; and from my tongue

these words I did let pass:

⁴Mine end, and measure of my days,

O Lord, unto me show

What is the same; that I thereby

my frailty well may know.

⁵Lo, thou my days an handbreadth mad’st;

mine age is in thine eye

As nothing: sure each man at best

is wholly vanity.

⁶Sure each man walks in a vain show;

they vex themselves in vain:

He heaps up wealth, and doth not know

to whom it shall pertain.

⁷And now, O Lord, what wait I for?

my hope is fix’d on thee.

⁸Free me from all my trespasses,

the fool’s scorn make not me.

⁹Dumb was I, op’ning not my mouth,

because this work was thine.

¹⁰Thy stroke take from me; by the blow

of thine hand I do pine.

¹¹When with rebukes thou dost correct

man for iniquity,

Thou wastes his beauty like a moth:

sure each man’s vanity.

¹²Attend my cry, Lord, at my tears

and pray’rs not silent be:

I sojourn as my fathers all,

and stranger am with thee.

¹³O spare thou me, that I my strength

recover may again,

Before from hence I do depart,

and here no more remain.