2 As the hart panteth after the fountains of water; so my soul panteth after thee, O God.
3 My soul hath thirsted after the strong living God; when shall I come and appear before the face of God?
4 My tears have been any bread day and night, whilst it is said to me daily: Where is thy God?
5 These things I remembered, and poured out my soul in me: for I shall go over into the place of the wonderful tabernacle, even to the house of God: With the voice of joy and praise; the noise of one feasting.
6 Why art thou sad, O my soul? and why dost thou trouble me? Hope in God, for I will still give praise to him: the salvation of my countenance,
7 and my God. My soul is troubled within myself: therefore will I remember thee from the land of Jordan and Hermoniim, from the little hill.
8 Deep calleth on deep, at the noise of thy flood-gates. All thy heights and thy billows have passed over me.