﻿PSALMS.
Chapter 102.
The prayer of a poor man, when he was anguished, and shedded out his speech before the Lord. Lord, hear thou my prayer; and my cry come to thee. 
Turn not away thy face from me; in whatever day I am troubled, bow down thine ear to me. In whatever day I shall inwardly call thee; hear thou me swiftly. 
For my days have failed as smoke; and my bones have dried up as croutons or cracklings, either leavings of frying. 
I am smitten as hay, and mine heart dried up; for I have forgotten to eat my bread. 
Of the voice of my wailing; my bone cleaved to my flesh. 
I am made like a pelican of wilderness; I am made as a night crow in an house. 
I waked; and I am made as a solitary sparrow in the roof. 
All day mine enemies despised me; and they that praised me swore against me. 
For I ate ashes as bread; and I meddled or mingled my drink with weeping. 
From the face of the ire of thine indignation; for thou raising me up hast hurtled me down. 
My days bowed away as a shadow; and I waxed dry as hay. 
But, Lord, thou dwellest without end; and thy memorial in generation and into generation. 
Lord, thou rising up, shalt have mercy on Zion; for the time to have mercy thereof cometh, for the time cometh. 
For the stones thereof pleased thy servants; and they shall have mercy on the land thereof. 
And, Lord, heathen men shall dread thy name; and all kings of earth shall dread thy glory. 
For the Lord hath built up Zion; and he shall be seen in his glory. 
He beheld on the prayer of meek men; and he despised not the prayer of them. 
Be these things written in another generation; and the people that shall be made shall praise the Lord. 
For he beheld from his high holy place; the Lord looked from heaven into earth. 
For to hear the wailings of fettered men; and for to unbind the sons of slain men. 
That they tell in Zion the name of the Lord; and his praising in Jerusalem. 
In gathering together peoples into one; and kings, that they serve the Lord. 
It answered to him in the way of his virtue; Tell thou to me the few-ness of my days. 
Again-call thou not me in the middle of my days; thy years be in generation and into generation. 
Lord, thou foundedest the earth in the beginning; and heavens be the works of thine hands. 
Those shall perish, but thou dwellest perfectly; and all shall wax eld or old as a cloth. And thou shalt change them as a covering, and those shall be changed; 
but thou art the same thyself, and thy years shall not fail. 
The sons of thy servants shall dwell; and the seed of them shall be dressed into the world. 
