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And in my prosperity I said, I shall never be moved.

For his anger endureth but a moment; in his favour is life: weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.

Sing unto the LORD, O ye saints of his, and give thanks at the remembrance of his holiness.

O LORD, thou hast brought up my soul from the grave: thou hast kept me alive, that I should not go down to the pit.

O LORD my God, I cried unto thee, and thou hast healed me.

I will extol thee, O LORD; for thou hast lifted me up, and hast not made my foes to rejoice over me.

My harp also is turned to mourning, and my organ into the voice of them that weep.

My skin is black upon me, and my bones are burned with heat.

I am a brother to dragons, and a companion to owls.

I went mourning without the sun: I stood up, and I cried in the congregation.

My bowels boiled, and rested not: the days of affliction prevented me.

When I looked for good, then evil came unto me: and when I waited for light, there came darkness.

Did not I weep for him that was in trouble? was not my soul grieved for the poor?

Howbeit he will not stretch out his hand to the grave, though they cry in his destruction.

For I know that thou wilt bring me to death, and to the house appointed for all living.

Thou liftest me up to the wind; thou causest me to ride upon it, and dissolvest my substance.

Thou art become cruel to me: with thy strong hand thou opposest thyself against me.

I cry unto thee, and thou dost not hear me: I stand up, and thou regardest me not.

He hath cast me into the mire, and I am become like dust and ashes.

By the great force of my disease is my garment changed: it bindeth me about as the collar of my coat.

My bones are pierced in me in the night season: and my sinews take no rest.

And now my soul is poured out upon me; the days of affliction have taken hold upon me.

Terrors are turned upon me: they pursue my soul as the wind: and my welfare passeth away as a cloud.

They came upon me as a wide breaking in of waters: in the desolation they rolled themselves upon me.

They mar my path, they set forward my calamity, they have no helper.

Upon my right hand rise the youth; they push away my feet, and they raise up against me the ways of their destruction.

Because he hath loosed my cord, and afflicted me, they have also let loose the bridle before me.

They abhor me, they flee far from me, and spare not to spit in my face.

And now am I their song, yea, I am their byword.

They were children of fools, yea, children of base men: they were viler than the earth.