To judge the fatherless and bruised: He addeth no more to oppress -- man of the earth!

And I beat them as dust before wind, As mire of the streets I empty them out.

They are more desirable than gold, Yea, than much fine gold; and sweeter than honey, Even liquid honey of the comb.

And He doth cause me to come up From a pit of desolation -- from mire of mud, And He raiseth up on a rock my feet, He is establishing my steps.

Much hast Thou done, Jehovah my God; Thy wonders and Thy thoughts toward us, There is none to arrange unto Thee, I declare and speak: They have been more than to be numbered.

For compassed me have evils innumerable, Overtaken me have mine iniquities, And I have not been able to see; They have been more than the hairs of my head, And my heart hath forsaken me.

Myrrh and aloes, cassia! all thy garments, Out of palaces of ivory Stringed instruments have made thee glad.

I have sunk in deep mire, And there is no standing, I have come into the depths of the waters, And a flood hath overflown me.

Those hating me without cause Have been more than the hairs of my head, Mighty have been my destroyers, My lying enemies, That which I took not away -- I bring back.

Deliver me from the mire, and let me not sink, Let me be delivered from those hating me, And from deep places of waters.

Our ensigns we have not seen, There is no more a prophet, Nor with us is one knowing how long.

To the ages doth the Lord cast off? Doth He add to be pleased no more?

They have said, 'Come, And we cut them off from being a nation, And the name of Israel is not remembered any more.'

Among the dead -- free, As pierced ones lying in the grave, Whom Thou hast not remembered any more, Yea, they by Thy hand have been cut off.

For a wind hath passed over it, and it is not, And its place doth not discern it any more.

Consumed are sinners from the earth, And the wicked are no more. Bless, O my soul, Jehovah. Praise ye Jehovah!

Above elders I understand more, For Thy precepts I have kept.

My soul is for the Lord, More than those watching for morning, Watching for morning!

I recount them! than the sand they are more, I have waked, and I am still with Thee.