² From the end of the land unto Thee I call, In the feebleness of my heart, Into a rock higher than I Thou dost lead me.

³ I remember God, and make a noise, I meditate, and feeble is my spirit. Selah.

² Jehovah `is' my rock, and my bulwark, And my deliverer, My God `is' my rock, I trust in Him: My shield, and a horn of my salvation, My high tower.

²⁹ `And -- ye have sought from thence Jehovah thy God, and hast found, when thou seekest Him with all thy heart, and with all thy soul,

⁶ Only -- He `is' my rock and my salvation, My tower, I am not moved.

² Only -- He `is' my rock, and my salvation, My tower, I am not much moved.

² And each hath been as a hiding-place `from' wind, And as a secret hiding-place `from' inundation, As rivulets of waters in a dry place, As a shadow of a heavy rock in a weary land.

³ When my spirit hath been feeble in me, Then Thou hast known my path; In the way `in' which I walk, They have hid a snare for me.

⁵ For He hideth me in a tabernacle in the day of evil, He hideth me in a secret place of His tent, On a rock he raiseth me up.

⁶ In me doth my soul bow itself, Therefore I remember Thee from the land of Jordan, And of the Hermons, from the hill Mizar.

⁴⁶ Jehovah liveth -- and blessed `is' my rock, And exalted is the God of my salvation.

⁴⁴ and having been in agony, he was more earnestly praying, and his sweat became, as it were, great drops of blood falling upon the ground.

³³ and he taketh Peter, and James, and John with him, and began to be amazed, and to be very heavy,

³⁴ and he saith to them, `Exceeding sorrowful is my soul -- to death; remain here, and watch.'

² And he saith: I called, because of my distress, to Jehovah, And He doth answer me, From the belly of sheol I have cried, Thou hast heard my voice.

³ When Thou dost cast me `into' the deep, Into the heart of the seas, Then the flood doth compass me, All Thy breakers and Thy billows have passed over me.

⁴ And I -- I said: I have been cast out from before Thine eyes, (Yet I add to look unto Thy holy temple!)

¹¹ O afflicted, storm-tossed, not comforted, Lo, I am laying with cement thy stones, And have founded thee with sapphires,

⁴ And my spirit in me is become feeble, Within me is my heart become desolate.

⁹ I take the wings of morning, I dwell in the uttermost part of the sea,

¹⁰ Also there Thy hand doth lead me, And Thy right hand doth hold me.

⁵ Fear and trembling come in to me, And horror doth cover me.

⁵ What! bowest thou thyself, O my soul? And what! art thou troubled within me? Wait for God, for still I confess Him, The salvation of my countenance, and my God!

² And He doth cause me to come up From a pit of desolation -- from mire of mud, And He raiseth up on a rock my feet, He is establishing my steps.