Quemadmodum. Psal. 42.
LIke as the Hart desireth the water brookes: so longeth my soule after thee, O God.
My soule is athirst for God, yea, euen for hte liuing God: when shall I come to appeare before the presence of God?
My teares haue bene my meate day and might: while they dayly say vnto nie, Where is now the God?
Now when I thinke thereupon, I powre out my heart by my selfe: for I went with the multitude, & brought them forth into the house of God.
In the voice of praise and thankesgiuing: among such as keepe holy day.
Why art thou so full of heauinesse (O my soule:) and why art thou so disquieted within me?
Put thy trust in God: for I will yet giue him thankes for the helpe of his countenance.
My God, my soule is vexed within mee: therefore will I remember thee, concerning the land of Iordane, and the lit∣tle hill of Hermon.
One deepe calleth another, because of the noise of the wa∣ter pipes: all thy waues and stormes are gone ouer me.
The Lorde hath granted his I sing of him, and made my prayer vnto the God of my life.
I wil say vnto the God of my strength, why hast thou for∣gotten me: why goe I thus heauily, while the enemie oppresseth me?
My bones are smitten asunder as with a sworde: while mine enemies (that tropuble me) cast me in the teeth.
Namely while they say dayly vnto me: where is now thy God?
Why art thou so vexed, O my soule: and why art thou so disquieted within me?
O put thy trust in GOD: for I will yet thanke him,