The Book of Psalms

A canticle of a psalm for the sons of Core: unto the end, for Maheleth, to answer understanding of Eman the Ezrahite.

O Lord, the God of my salvation: I have cried in the day, and in the night before thee.

Let my prayer come in before thee: incline thy ear to my petition.

For my soul is filled with evils: and my life hath drawn nigh to hell.

I am counted among them that go down to the pit: I am become as a man without help,

Free among the dead. Like the slain sleeping in the sepulchres, whom thou rememberest no more: and they are cast off from thy hand.

They have laid me in the lower pit: in the dark places, and in the shadow of death.

Thy wrath is strong over me: and all thy waves thou hast brought in upon me.

Thou hast put away my acquaintance far from me: they have set me an abomination to themselves. I was delivered up, and came not forth:

My eyes languished through poverty. All the day I cried to thee, O Lord: I stretched out my hands to thee.

Wilt thou shew wonders to the dead? or shall physicians raise to life, and give praise to thee?

Shall any one in the sepulchre declare thy mercy: and thy truth in destruction?

Shall thy wonders be known in the dark; and thy justice in the land of forgetfulness?

But I, O Lord, have cried to thee: and in the morning my prayer shall prevent thee.

Lord, why castest thou off my prayer: why turnest thou away thy face from me?

I am poor, and in labours from my youth: and being exalted have been humbled and troubled.

Thy wrath hath come upon me: and thy terrors have troubled me.

They have come round about me like water all the day: they have compassed me about together.

Friend and neighbour thou hast put far from me: and my acquaintance, because of misery.

LORD, the God of my salvation, I have cried day and night before you.

Let my prayer enter into your presence. Turn your ear to my cry.

For my soul is full of troubles. My life draws near to Sheol.(a)

I am counted among those who go down into the pit. I am like a man who has no help,

set apart among the dead, like the slain who lie in the grave, whom you remember no more. They are cut off from your hand.

You have laid me in the lowest pit, in the darkest depths.

Your wrath lies heavily on me. You have afflicted me with all your waves. Selah.

You have taken my friends from me. You have made me an abomination to them. I am confined, and I can’t escape.

My eyes are dim from grief. I have called on you daily, LORD. I have spread out my hands to you.

Do you show wonders to the dead? Do the departed spirits rise up and praise you? Selah.

Is your loving kindness declared in the grave? Or your faithfulness in Destruction?

Are your wonders made known in the dark? Or your righteousness in the land of forgetfulness?

But to you, LORD, I have cried. In the morning, my prayer comes before you.

LORD, why do you reject my soul? Why do you hide your face from me?

I am afflicted and ready to die from my youth up. While I suffer your terrors, I am distracted.

Your fierce wrath has gone over me. Your terrors have cut me off.

They came around me like water all day long. They completely engulfed me.

You have put lover and friend far from me, and my friends into darkness.

(a)88:3 Sheol is the place of the dead.