Psalms 42:1-11
AS THE hart pants and longs for the water brooks, so I pant and long for You, O my Master! My inner self thirsts for the Mighty One Of Israel, for the living Mighty One.
When shall I come and behold the face of the Mighty One Of Israel? My tears have been my food day and night, while men say to me all day long, Where is your Mighty One?
These things I earnestly remember and pour myself out within me: how I went slowly before the throng and led them in procession to the house of the Mighty One Of Israel, like a bandmaster before his band, timing the steps to the sound of music and the chant of song, with the voice of shouting and praise, a throng keeping festival.
Why are you cast down, O my inner self? And why should you moan over me and be disquieted within me? Hope in the Mighty One Of Israel and wait expectantly for Him, for I shall yet praise Him, my Help and my Mighty One.
O my Master, my life is cast down upon me and I find the burden more than I can bear; therefore, will I earnestly remember You from the land of the Jordan River and the summits of Mount Hermon, from the little mountain Mizar.
Roaring deep calls to roaring deep at the thunder of Your waterspouts; all Your breakers and Your rolling waves have gone over me.
Yet my Master will command His loving-kindness in the daytime, and in the night His song shall be with me, a prayer to the Mighty One of my life.
I will say to my Master—my Rock, Why have You forgotten me? Why go I mourning because of the oppression of the enemy?
As with a sword crushing in my bones, my enemies taunt and reproach me, while they say continually to me, Where is your Mighty One?
