For my days are [a]consumed like smoke, and my bones are burnt like an hearth.

Mine heart is smitten, and withered like grass, because I forgat [b]to eat my bread.

For the voice of my groaning, my bones do cleave to my skin.

I am like a [c]pelican of the wilderness: I am like an owl of the deserts.

I watch, and am as a sparrow alone upon the house top.

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Footnotes

  1. Psalm 102:3 These excessive kinds of speech show how much the affliction of the Church ought to wound the hearts of the godly.
  2. Psalm 102:4 My sorrows were so great, that I passed not for mine ordinary food.
  3. Psalm 102:6 Ever mourning and solitary, casting out fearful cries.

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