The Hundred-and-First Psalm.
The Psalmist begs for mercy upon Sion, that he will raise out of it his church, to which kings and people may come and praise God.—A prayer of the poor man, when he was anxious, and poured out his supplications before the Lord.
O Lord, hear my prayer, and let my cry come unto thee.
Turn not away thy face from me: in what day soever I am in tribulation, incline thine ear to me.
In what day soever I shall call upon thee, hear me speedily.
For my days are vanished like smoke: and my hones are withered like fuel for the fire.
I am smitten, and my heart is withered like grass: because I forgot to eat my bread.
Through the voice of my groaning, by bones have cleaved to my flesh.
I am become like a pelican of the wilderness: I am become like a night raven in the house.