[To the choirmaster. A Maskil of the Sons of Korah.]
These things I remember, as I pour out my soul:
how I went with the throng, and led them in procession to the house of God,
with glad shouts and songs of thanksgiving, a multitude keeping festival.
Why are you cast down, O my soul,
and why are you disquieted within me?
Hope in God;
for I shall again praise him, my help and my God.
My soul is cast down within me,
therefore I remember thee from the land of Jordan and of Hermon, from Mount Mizar.
Deep calls to deep at the thunder of thy cataracts;
all thy waves and thy billows have gone over me.
By day the LORD commands his steadfast love;
and at night his song is with me, a prayer to the God of my life.
I say to God, my rock: "Why hast thou forgotten me?
Why go I mourning because of the oppression of the enemy?"
As with a deadly wound in my body, my adversaries taunt me,
while they say to me continually, "Where is your God?"
Why are you cast down, O my soul,
and why are you disquieted within me?
Hope in God;
for I shall again praise him, my help and my God.
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