¶ To the Chief Musician, Maschil, for the Sons of Korah.
1 As the hart panteth after the water-brooks,—so panteth my soul after thee, O God.
2 My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God:—when shall I come and appear before God?
3 My tears have been my meat day and night,
While they continually say unto me, Where is thy God?
4 When I remember these things, I pour out my soul in me:
For I had gone with the multitude, I went with them to the house of God,
With the voice of joy and praise,—with a multitude that kept holy day.
5 Why art thou cast down, O my soul?—and why art thou disquieted in me?
Hope thou in God: for I shall yet praise him
For the help of his countenance [or, His presence is salvation].
6 O my God, my soul is cast down within me:
Therefore will I remember thee from the land of Jordan, and of the Hermonites,
From the hill Mizar.
7 Deep calleth unto deep at the noise of thy water-spouts;
All thy waves and thy billows are gone over me.
8 Yet the Lord will command his loving-kindness in the day-time,
And in the night his song shall be with me,
And my prayer unto the God of my life.
9 I will say unto God my rock, Why hast thou forgotten me?
Why go I mourning because of the oppression of the enemy?
10 As with a sword in my bones, mine enemies reproach me;
While they say daily unto me, Where is thy God?
11 Why art thou cast down, O my soul?—and why art thou disquieted within me?
Hope thou in God: for I shall yet praise him,
Who is the health of my countenance, and my God.[1]
The following is an excellent poetical paraphrase of the Psalm, by Bishop Lowth:—
"As pants the wearied hart for cooling springs,
That sinks exhausted in the summer's chase;
So pants my longing soul, great King of kings!
So thirsts to reach Thy sacred dwelling-place.
"On briny tears my famish'd soul hath fed,
While taunting foes deride my deep despair;
'Say, where is now thy Great Deliverer fled,