The Holy Bible – Knox Translation
The Book of Psalms
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Psalm 101
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1
(A prayer for the friendless man, when he is troubled, and is pouring out his griefs before the Lord.)
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O Lord, hear my prayer, and let my cry come unto thee.
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Do not turn thy face away from me, but lend me thy ear in time of affliction; give me swift audience whenever I call upon thee.
4
See how this life of mine passes away like smoke, how this frame wastes like a tinder!
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Drained of strength, like grass the sun scorches, I leave my food untasted, forgotten;
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I am spent with sighing, till my skin clings to my bones.
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I am no better than a pelican out in the desert, an owl on some ruined dwelling;
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I keep mournful watch, lonely as a single sparrow on the house top.
9
Still my enemies taunt me, in their mad rage make a by-word of me.
10
Ashes are all my food, I drink nothing but what comes to me mingled with my tears;
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I shrink before thy vengeful anger, so low thou hast brought me, who didst once lift me so high.
12
Like a tapering shadow my days dwindle, wasting away, like grass in the sun!
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Lord, thou endurest for ever, thy name, age after age, is not forgotten;
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surely thou wilt bestir thyself, and give Sion redress! It is time, now, to take pity on her, the hour has come.
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See how thy servants love her even in ruin, how they water her dust with their tears!
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Will not the heathen learn reverence, Lord, for thy glorious name, all those monarchs of the earth,
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when they hear that the Lord has built Sion anew; that he has revealed himself there in glory,
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has given heed to the prayer of the afflicted, neglects their appeal no more?
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Such legend inscribe we for a later age to read it; a new people will arise, to praise the Lord;
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the Lord, who looks down from his sanctuary on high, viewing earth from heaven,
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who has listened to the groans of the prisoners, delivered a race that was doomed to die.
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There will be talk of the Lord’s name in Sion, of his praise in Jerusalem,
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when peoples and kings meet there to pay him their homage.
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Here, on my journey, he has brought my strength to an end, cut short my days.
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What, my God, wilt thou snatch me away, my life half done? Age after age thy years endure;
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it was thou, Lord, that didst lay the foundations of earth when time began, it was thy hand that built the heavens.
27
They will perish, but thou wilt remain; they will all be like a cloak that grows threadbare, and thou wilt lay them aside like a garment, and exchange them for new;
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thou art unchanging, thy years can never fail.
29
The posterity of thy servants shall yet hold their lands in peace, their race shall live on in thy keeping.