PSALM 38. DOMINE NE IN FURORE by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE

Lord, while that thy rage doth bide,
Do not chide,
Nor in anger chastise me;
For thy shafts have pierced me sore,
And yet more,
Still thy hands upon me be.

No sound part (caused by thy wrath)
My flesh hath,
Nor my sins let my bones rest;
For my faults are highly spread
On my head,
Whose foul weights have me oppressed.

My wounds putrefy and stink
In the sink
Of my filthy folly laid;
Earthly do I bow and crook
With a look
Still in mourning cheer arrayed.

In my reins hot torment reigns;
There remains
Nothing in my body sound;
I am weak and broken sore,
Yea, I roar,
In my heart such grief is found.

Lord, before thee I do lay
What I pray;
My sighs are not hid from thee;
My heart pants, gone is my might;
Even the light
Of mine eyes abandons me.

From my plague kin, neighbour, friend
Far off wend;
But who for my life do wait,
They lay snares; they nimble be
Who hunt me,
Speaking evil, thinking deceit.

But I like a man become
Deaf and dumb,
Little hearing, speaking less;
I even as such kind of wight,
Senseless quite,
Word with word do not repress.

For on thee, Lord, without end
I attend;
My God, thou wilt hear my voice;
For I said, 'Hear, lest they be
Glad on me
Whom my fall doth make rejoice'.

Sure I do but halting go,
And my woe
Still my o'erthwart neighbour is.
Lo, I now to mourn begin
For my sin,
Telling mine iniquities.

But the while they live and grow
In great show,
Many mighty wrongful foes
Who do evil for good, to me
Enemies be:
Why? Because I virtue chose.

Do not, Lord, then me forsake,
Do not take
Thy dear presence far from me;
Haste, dear Lord, that I be stayed
By thy aid;
My salvation is in thee.

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