1

Oft did they vex me from my youth,

may Isr’el now declare;

2

Oft did they vex me from my youth,

yet not victorious were.

3

The plowers plow’d upon my back;

they long their furrows drew.

4

The righteous Lord did cut the cords

of the ungodly crew.

5

Let Sion’s haters all be turn’d

back with confusion.

6

As grass on houses’ tops be they,

which fades ere it be grown:

7

Whereof enough to fill his hand

the mower cannot find;

Nor can the man his bosom fill,

whose work is sheaves to bind.

8

Neither say they who do go by,

God’s blessing on you rest:

We in the name of God the Lord

do wish you to be blest.