1 I with my voice cried to the Lord,
with it made my request:
2 poured out to him my plaint, to him
my trouble I expressed.
3 When overwhelmed my spirit is,
then knowest thou my way;
where I did walk a snare for me
they privily did lay.
4 Look on my right hand, and behold
there's none to know me there;
all refuge hath me failed, and none
doth for my soul take care.
5 I cried to thee; I said, Thou art
a refuge, Lord, to me;
thou art my portion in the land
of those that living be.
6 Because I am brought very low,
attend unto my cry:
Me from my persecutors save,
who stronger are than I.
7 From prison bring my soul, that I
thy name may glorify:
the just shall compass me, when thou
with me deal’st bounteously.