1 In thy great indignation,O Lord, rebuke me not;Nor on me lay thy chast'ning hand,in thy displeasure hot.
2 For in me fast thine arrows stick,thine hand doth press me sore:
3 And in my flesh there is no health,nor soundness any more.This grief I have, because thy wrathis forth against me gone;And in my bones there is no rest,for sin that I have done.
4 Because gone up above mine headmy great transgressions be;And, as a weighty burden, theytoo heavy are for me.
5 My wounds do stink, and are corrupt;my folly makes it so.