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A Refuge from Trouble

Psalm 142

A contemplative poem of David, when he was in the cave, a prayer.
I cry aloud with my voice to Adonai.
With my voice I seek favor from Adonai.
I pour out my complaint before Him,
before Him I tell my trouble.
When my spirit grows faint within me,
You know my path.
In the way where I walk they have hidden a trap for me.
Look at my right hand and see,
for no one cares about me.
I have no refuge—
no one cares for my soul.
I have cried out to You, Adonai.
I said: “You are my refuge,
    my portion in the land of the living.”
Listen to my cry,
    for I am brought very low.
Rescue me from my persecutors,
    for they are too strong for me.
Bring my soul out of prison,
    so I may praise Your Name.
The righteous will triumph through me,
    for You will reward me.

142 I cried unto the Lord with my voice; with my voice unto the Lord did I make my supplication.

I poured out my complaint before him; I shewed before him my trouble.

When my spirit was overwhelmed within me, then thou knewest my path. In the way wherein I walked have they privily laid a snare for me.

I looked on my right hand, and beheld, but there was no man that would know me: refuge failed me; no man cared for my soul.

I cried unto thee, O Lord: I said, Thou art my refuge and my portion in the land of the living.

Attend unto my cry; for I am brought very low: deliver me from my persecutors; for they are stronger than I.

Bring my soul out of prison, that I may praise thy name: the righteous shall compass me about; for thou shalt deal bountifully with me.