14 Why wilt thou Lord my soul forsake,
And hide thy face from me,
15 That am already bruis'd, and shake
With terror sent from thee;
Bruz'd, and afflicted and [so low]
As ready to expire,
While I thy terrors undergo
Astonish'd with thine ire.
16 Thy fierce wrath over me doth flow
Thy threatnings cut me through.
17 All day they round about me go,
Like waves they me persue.
18 Lover and friend thou hast remov'd
And sever'd from me far.
They [fly me now] whom I have lov'd,
And as in darkness are.
THE END
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