The Psalmist prays to be healed from sickness, and implores pardon for his sins. After obtaining his request, he exults over his enemies.
O Lord, rebuke me not in thy indignation; nor chastise me in thy wrath.
Take pity on me, O Lord, for I am weak: heal me, O Lord, for all my bones are shaken.
And my soul is troubled exceedingly: but thou, O Lord, how long?
Return, O Lord, and deliver my soul: O save me for thy mercies' sake.
For in death there is none that is mindful of thee: and who shall confess to thee in hell?
I have tired myself with my groanings: every night I will wash my bed, I will water my couch with my tears.
My eye is disturbed with rage: I am grown old amidst all mine enemies.
Depart from me, all ye that work iniquity: for the Lord hath heard the voice of my weeping.
The Lord hath heard my petition: the Lord hath received my prayer.