Psalm 42 (St Agnes CM)

1 Like as the hart for water-brooksin thirst doth pant and bray;So pants my longing soul, O God,that come to thee I may.2 My soul for God, the living God,doth thirst: when shall I nearUnto thy countenance approach,and in God’s sight appear?3 My tears have unto me been meat,both in the night and day,While unto me continually,Where is thy God? they say.4 My soul is poured out in me,when this I think upon;Because that with the multitudeI heretofore had gone:With them into God’s house I went,with voice of joy and praise;Yea, with the multitude that keptthe solemn holy days.5 O why art thou cast down, my soul?why in me so dismayed?Trust God, for I shall praise him yet,his count’nance is mine aid.6 My God, my soul’s cast down in me;thee therefore mind I willFrom Jordan’s land, the Hermonites,and ev’n from Mizar hill.7 At the noise of thy water-spoutsdeep unto deep doth call;Thy breaking waves pass over me,yea, and thy billows all.8 His loving-kindness yet the Lordcommand will in the day,His song’s with me by night; to God,by whom I live, I’ll pray:9 And I will say to God my rock,Why me forgett’st thou so?Why, for my foes’ oppression,thus mourning do I go?10 ‘Tis as a sword within my bones,when my foes me upbraid;Ev’n when by them, Where is thy God?’tis daily to me said.11 O why art thou cast down, my soul?why, thus with grief oppresed,Art thou disquieted in me?in God still hope and rest:For yet I know I shall him praise,who graciously to meThe health is of my countenance,yea, mine own God is he.