1 I am the man by's wrathful rod
Who have the sight of wo.
2 To darkness he me led, and brought,
And not the light into.
3 He finely is against me turn'd,
His hand he turns all day.
4 My flesh and skin he old hath made,
And broke my bones hath he.
5 He built against me, and with gall
And travel did enfold.
6 He hath me set in places dark,
As are the dead of old.
7 He me hedg'd in, I can't get out,
His heavy chain I bear.
8 And when I earnest cry aloud,
He shutteth out my prayer.
9 He with hewn stone enclos'd my path*.
He crooked made my ways.
10 He as a bear lays wait for me,
A lion in hid place.
11 He turned hath my ways aside,
And he hath pulled me
Ev'n into pieces: he hath made
Me desolate to be.
12 He bent his bow, me as a mark
Did for the arrow place.
13 His quiver's arrows he hath caus'd
Into my reins to pass.
14 To all my folk I was a scorn,
And all the day their song.
15 He made me full of bitterness,
And drunk with wormwood strong.
16 Yea he my teeth with gravel brake,
In ashes rolled me.
17 And far thou putt'st my soul from peace,
Gone is prosperity.
18 Yea, I did say, my strength and hope
Is perish'd from the Lord.
19 My grief a pain, wormwood and gall
When I in mind record;
20 My soul doth them remember still,
And in me's humbled sore,
21 This to my heart I do recall,
And hope I have therefore;
22 It's of the mercy of the Lord,
We're not consum'd away.
Because that his companions kind
They never do decay.
23 They ev'ry morning are renew'd
His faithfulness is great.
24 The Lord's my portion, faith my soul,
Thence hope on him I'll set.
25 To them who for him wait, the soul
Who seeks him, good's the Lord.
26 It's good to hope, and wait until
Salvation he afford.
27 Good for a man it is in youth
That he doth bare the yoke.
28 He sets alone, and silence keeps,
Because it is thy stroke.
29 He puts his mouth into the dust,
If so there hope may be.
30 His cheek to him who smites he gives,
Fill'd with reproach is lie.
31 For aye the Lord will not cast off,
But though grief cause he should.
32 Yet will he have compassion in
His mercies manifold.
33 For he's not willing to affLict
Or grieve the sons of men,
34. To crush the Prisoners of the earth,
Or under foot tread them.
35 To turn aside the right of man
Before the high'st his face.
36 The Lord likes not, nor to subvert
A man in his just cause.
37 Who's he that saith, and done it is,
Unless the Lord it will?
38 Out of the mouth of the most high
Froceeds not good and ill.
39 Why doth a living man complain?
A man for his sins pain?
40 Let's search and try our ways and turn
Unto the Lord again.
41 Let us lift up our heart and hands
To God on high in heav'n.
42 We trefpafs'd have, and have rebell'd,
And thou hast not forglv'n.
4e Thou hid'st with wrath, and us pursu'st,
Thou slay'st and dost not rue,
44 Thou so with clouds dost hide thy self,
Our pray'r cannot pass through.
45 Amidst the people us thou mad'st
The refuse scum likewise.
46 Against us open'd have the mouths
Of all our enemies.
47 Fear and a snare is come on us,
Waste and destruction.
48 For daughter of my people's waste,
Mine eyes with rivers run.
49 Mine eyes with tears do trickle down
Nor intermission know,
50 Until the Lord, from heav'n look down,
And see us in our woe.
51 Mine eye affects mine heart for all
My cities daughters sore.
52 Me like a bird my foes pursu'd;
They have no cause therefore
53 My life in dungeon they cut off,
On me a stone they put.
54 The waters flowed o'er mine head,
I said I off am cut.
55 I called on thy name, O Lord,
Out of the dungeon low.
56 Thou heard'st my voice, hide not thine ear
My cry my breathing fro.
57 Thou drewest near, and said'st, fear not,
That day I call'd on thee.
58 Lord my soul's causes thou didst plead,
My life thou hast set free.
59 Jehovah thou hast seen my wrong,
Judge thou the cause for me.
60 Their vengeance all, and ail their plots
Against me thou did'st see.
61 Thou hast heard their reproach, and plots
They did against me lay;
6z Their lips who up against me rose,
Their plottings all the day.
65 When they sit down, and when rise up
Their musick lo am I
64 O Lord on them a recompence
To their hands works apply.
65 Sorrow of heart thou wilt them give,
Thy curse to them afford.
66 In wrath wilt chase, and waste beneath
The heavens of the Lord.
|First Line:||I am the man by's wrathful rod|
|Title:||The Lamentations of Jeremiah: Chap. III|