For the end, with hymns, for the eighth. A Psalm of David.
Lord, don’t correct me in your anger or discipline me in your wrath. Have mercy on me, Lord, because I am weak. Heal me, Lord, because my bones have been shaken. My soul has been fiercly shaken.
And as for you, Lord, how long?
Turn, Lord! Save my life! Spare me on account of your mercy because in death there is no one who mentions you. In Hades who will acknowledge you?
I have grown tired in my groaning. I wash my bed every night; with my tears I soak my sheets. My sight has been distorted from anger. I have wasted away in the midst of my enemies.1
Get away from me, all you who live lawlessly, because the Lord heard the sound of my weeping! The Lord heard my request. The Lord accepted my prayer. May all my enemies be utterly ashamed and distressed. May they quickly be abandoned and disgraced!