The enemy has pursued me,
     he has crushed my life to the ground,
     he has made me sit in darkness like those long dead.

I remember the days of old,
     I meditate on all that thou hast done,
     I muse on what thy hands have wrought.

I stretch out my hands to thee,
     my soul thirsts for thee like a parched land.

Hide not thy face from me,
     lest I be like those who go down to the Pit.

Let me hear in the morning of thy steadfast love,
     for in thee I put my trust.

Teach me the way I should go,
     for to thee I lift up my soul.