1 O Lord, unto my prayer give ear,
my cry let come to thee;
2 and in the day of my distress
hide not thy face from me.
Give ear to me; what time I call,
to answer me make haste:
3 for, as an hearth, my bones are burnt,
my days, like smoke, do waste.
4 My heart within me smitten is,
like grass is withered;
because for very grief I do
forget to eat my bread.
5 By reason of my cries and groans
my bones cleave to my skin.
6 Like pelican in wilderness
forsaken I have been:
I like an owl 'mid ruins am,
that nightly there doth moan;
7 I watch, like sparrow that doth moan;
on the house-top alone.
8 My bitter enemies all the day
reproaches cast on me;
and, being mad at me, with rage
against me sworn they be.
9 For I did ashes eat as bread,
and, in my sorrow deep;
my drink I also mingled have
with tears that I did weep.
10 Thine indignation and thy wrath
did cause this grief and pain;
for thou hast lifted me on high,
and cast me down again.
11 My days are like unto a shade,
which doth dried and withered,
even like unto the grass.
12 But thou, O Lord, dost sit enthroned,
eternal is thy sway;
and thy remembrance shall endure
from age to age alway.
Source: The Irish Presbyterian Hymbook #P102a