Psalms 42
1 For the leader. A maskil of the Korahites. Like the hart which longs for brooks of water, I long for you, God.
To him that excelleth. A Psalme to give instruction, committed to the sonnes of Korah. As the harte brayeth for the riuers of water, so panteth my soule after thee, O God.
2 I thirst for God, for my living God. When shall I enter in, and see the face of God?
My soule thirsteth for God, euen for the liuing God: when shall I come and appeare before the presence of God?
3 My tears have been my food by day and by night; for they say to me all the day long, ‘Where is your God?’
My teares haue bin my meate day and night, while they dayly say vnto me, Where is thy God?
4 My heart floods with sorrow, as I call to mind: how I used to pass on with the throng, at their head, to the house of God, with glad shouts and giving of thanks, in the throng who kept festival.
When I remembred these things, I powred out my very heart, because I had gone with the multitude, and ledde them into the House of God with the voyce of singing, and prayse, as a multitude that keepeth a feast.
5 Why am I downcast? Why this moaning within me? Hope in God; for yet will I praise him, my help, my God.
Why art thou cast downe, my soule, and vnquiet within me? waite on God: for I will yet giue him thankes for the helpe of his presence.
6 I am sunk in my misery; I will therefore call you to mind from the land of Jordan and Hermon, the mountain Mizar.
My God, my soule is cast downe within me, because I remember thee, from the land of Iorden, and Hermonim, and from the mount Mizar.
7 Flood is calling to flood at the noise of your cataracts; all your waves and your breakers have passed over me.
One deepe calleth another deepe by the noyse of thy water spoutes: all thy waues and thy floods are gone ouer me.
8 In the day I cry to the Lord to summon his kindness; and the song that I sing in the night is a prayer to the living God.
The Lord will graunt his louing kindenesse in the day, and in the night shall I sing of him, euen a prayer vnto the God of my life.
9 I say to God my rock, ‘Why have you forgotten me? Why must I walk so sadly, so hard pressed by the foe?’
I wil say vnto God, which is my rocke, Why hast thou forgotten mee? why goe I mourning, when the enemie oppresseth me?
10 It pierces me to the heart to hear the enemy’s taunts, as all the day long they say to me, ‘Where is your God?’
My bones are cut asunder, while mine enemies reproch me, saying dayly vnto me, Where is thy God?
11 Why am I downcast? Why this moaning within me? Hope in God; for yet will I praise him, my help, my God.
Why art thou cast downe, my soule? and why art thou disquieted within mee? waite on God: for I wil yet giue him thankes: he is my present helpe, and my God.
