Psalm 42 Bishops' Bible 1568
From Textus Receptus
(New page: Psa 42:1 <To the chiefe musition a wise instruction of the sonnes of Corach.> Lyke as the Hart brayeth for water brookes: so panteth my soule after thee O God. Psa 42:2 My soule is a thirs...) |
Current revision (13:14, 25 January 2016) (view source) (New page: Psa 42:1 <To the chiefe musition a wise instruction of the sonnes of Corach.> Lyke as the Hart brayeth for water brookes: so panteth my soule after thee O God. Psa 42:2 My soule is a thirs...) |
Current revision
Psa 42:1 <To the chiefe musition a wise instruction of the sonnes of Corach.> Lyke as the Hart brayeth for water brookes: so panteth my soule after thee O God. Psa 42:2 My soule is a thirst for the Lorde, yea euen for the lyuyng Lorde: when shall I come to appeare before the face of the Lorde? Psa 42:3 My teares haue ben my meate day and nyght: whyle they dayly say vnto me where is [nowe] thy God. Psa 42:4 And I powred out of me my very heart, remembryng this howe that before tyme I haue passed with a great number, bringyng the vnto the house of the Lord: with a voyce of ioy & prayse, [& with] a company that kept holy day. Psa 42:5 Why art thou so discouraged O my soule, & why art thou so vnquiet within me? attende thou vpon the Lorde, for I will yet acknowledge him only to be a present saluation. Psa 42:6 My Lorde, my soule is discouraged within me: because I remember thee from the lande of Iordane, and from the litle hyll Hermonim. Psa 42:7 One deepe calleth another at the noyse of thy water pypes: all thy waues and stormes are gone ouer me. Psa 42:8 God wyll graunt his louing kindnesse on the day tyme: and in the nyght season I wyll syng of hym, and make my prayer vnto the Lorde of my lyfe. Psa 42:9 I wyll say vnto the Lorde of my strength: why hast thou forgotten me, why go I thus heauyly through the oppression of myne enemie? Psa 42:10 It was as a sworde in my bones, when myne enemies dyd cast me in the teeth: in saying dayly vnto me, where is nowe thy Lorde? Psa 42:11 Why art thou so discouraged O my soule, & why art thou so vnquiet within me? attende thou vpon the Lorde, for I wil yet acknowledge him to be only my present saluation, and my Lorde.
