13 Lord, pity me; behold the griefwhich I from foes sustain;Ev'n thou, who from the gates of deathdost raise me up again;
14 That I, in Sion's daughters' gates,may all thy praise advance;And that I may rejoice alwaysin thy deliverance.
15 The heathen are sunk in the pitwhich they themselves prepar'd;And in the net which they have hidtheir own feet fast are snar'd.
16 The Lord is by the judgment knownwhich he himself hath wrought:The sinners' hands do make the snareswherewith themselves are caught.
17 They who are wicked into helleach one shall turned be;And all the nations that forgetto seek the Lord most high.
18 For they that needy are shall notforgotten be alway;The expectation of the poorshall not be lost for aye.
19 Arise, Lord, let not man prevail;judge heathen in thy sight: