Are as my sorrowful meat. O, woe is me!
For all night long with tears I wet my couch,
And peaceful thoughts far from my pillow flee;
O, God! let loose thy hand, and set me free!
How can I live—for is my strength of stones,
Or is my flesh of brass? Woe, woe is me!
The livelong day my breath is turned to groans;
My God has troubled me, and broken all my bones.
XXV.
But cease, desponding heart! To Heaven lift