1

Lord, I will thee extol, for thou

hast lifted me on high,

And over me thou to rejoice

mad’st not mine enemy.

2

O thou who art the Lord my God,

I in distress to thee,

With loud cries lifted up my voice,

and thou hast healed me.

3

O Lord, my soul thou hast brought up,

and rescu’d from the grave;

That I to pit should not go down,

alive thou didst me save.

4

O ye that are his holy ones,

sing praise unto the Lord;

And give unto him thanks, when ye

his holiness record.

5

For but a moment lasts his wrath;

life in his favour lies:

Weeping may for a night endure,

at morn doth joy arise.

6

In my prosperity I said,

that nothing shall me move.

7

O Lord, thou hast my mountain made

to stand strong by thy love:

But when that thou, O gracious God,

didst hide thy face from me,

Then quickly was my prosp’rous state

turn’d into misery.

8

Wherefore unto the Lord my cry

I caused to ascend:

My humble supplication

I to the Lord did send.

9

What profit is there in my blood,

when I go down to pit?

Shall unto thee the dust give praise?

thy truth declare shall it?

10

Hear, Lord, have mercy; help me, Lord:

11

Thou turned hast my sadness

To dancing; yea, my sackcloth loos’d,

and girded me with gladness;

12

That sing thy praise my glory may,

and never silent be.

O Lord my God, for evermore

I will give thanks to thee.