Psalm 102

1  Oratio pauperis, cum anxius fuerit, et in conspectu Domini effuderit precem suam.
2  Domine, exaudi orationem meam,
  et clamor meus ad te veniat.
3  Non avertas faciem tuam a me:
  in quacumque die tribulor, inclina ad me aurem tuam;
  in quacumque die invocavero te, velociter exaudi me.
4  Quia defecerunt sicut fumus dies mei,
  et ossa mea sicut cremium aruerunt.
5  Percussus sum ut foenum, et aruit cor meum,
  quia oblitus sum comedere panem meum.
6  A voce gemitus mei adhaesit os meum carni meae.
7  Similis factus sum pellicano solitudinis;
  factus sum sicut nycticorax in domicilio.
8  Vigilavi, et factus sum sicut passer solitarius in tecto.
9  Tota die exprobrabant mihi inimici mei,
  et qui laudabant me adversum me jurabant:
10  quia cinerem tamquam panem manducabam,
  et potum meum cum fletu miscebam,
11  a facie irae et indignationis tuae:
  quia elevans allisisti me.
12  Dies mei sicut umbra declinaverunt,
  et ego sicut foenum arui.
13  Tu autem, Domine, in aeternum permanes,
  et memoriale tuum in generationem et generationem.
14  Tu exsurgens misereberis Sion,
  quia tempus miserendi ejus, quia venit tempus:
15  quoniam placuerunt servis tuis lapides ejus,
  et terrae ejus miserebuntur.
16  Et timebunt gentes nomen tuum, Domine,
  et omnes reges terrae gloriam tuam:
17  quia aedificavit Dominus Sion,
  et videbitur in gloria sua.
18  Respexit in orationem humilium
  et non sprevit precem eorum.
19  Scribantur haec in generatione altera,
  et populus qui creabitur laudabit Dominum.
20  Quia prospexit de excelso sancto suo;
  Dominus de caelo in terram aspexit:
21  ut audiret gemitus compeditorum;
  ut solveret filios interemptorum:
22  ut annuntient in Sion nomen Domini,
  et laudem ejus in Jerusalem:
23  in conveniendo populos in unum,
  et reges, ut serviant Domino.
24  Respondit ei in via virtutis suae:
  Paucitatem dierum meorum nuntia mihi:
25  ne revoces me in dimidio dierum meorum,
  in generationem et generationem anni tui.
26  Initio tu, Domine, terram fundasti,
  et opera manuum tuarum sunt caeli.
27  Ipsi peribunt, tu autem permanes;
  et omnes sicut vestimentum veterascent.
  Et sicut opertorium mutabis eos, et mutabuntur;
28  tu autem idem ipse es, et anni tui non deficient.
29  Filii servorum tuorum habitabunt,
  et semen eorum in saeculum dirigetur.

  The prayer of the poor man, when he was anxious, and poured out his supplication before the Lord.
1  Hear my prayer, O Lord:
  and let my crying come unto thee.
2  Hide not thy face from me in the time of my trouble:
  incline thine ear unto me when I call;
  O hear me, and that right soon.
3  For my days are consumed away like smoke:
  and my bones are burnt up as it were a firebrand.
4  My heart is smitten down, and withered liked grass:
  so that I forget to eat my bread.
5  For the voice of my groaning:
  my bones will scarce cleave to my flesh.
6  I am become like a pelican in the wilderness:
  and like an owl that is in the desert.
7  I have watched, and am even as it were a sparrow:
  that sitteth alone upon the house-top.
8  Mine enemies revile me all the day long:
  and they that are mad upon me
  are sworn together against me.
9  For I have eaten ashes as it were bread:
  and mingled my drink with weeping;
10  And that because of thine indignation and wrath:
  for thou hast taken me up, and cast me down.
11  My days are gone like a shadow:
  and I am withered like grass.
12  But thou, O Lord, shalt endure for ever:
  and thy remembrance throughout all generations.
13  Thou shalt arise, and have mercy upon Sion:
  for it is time that thou have mercy upon her,
  yea, the time is come.
14  And why? thy servants think upon her stones:
  and it pitieth them to see her in the dust.
15  The heathen shall fear thy Name, O Lord:
  and all the kings of the earth thy majesty;
16  When the Lord shall build up Sion:
  and when his glory shall appear;
17  When he turneth him unto the prayer of the poor destitute:
  and despiseth not their desire.
18  This shall be written for those that come after:
  and the people which shall be born shall praise the Lord.
19  For he hath looked down from his sanctuary:
  out of the heaven did the Lord behold the earth;
20  That he might hear the mournings of such as are in captivity:
  and deliver the children appointed unto death;
21  That they may declare the Name of the Lord in Sion:
  and his worship at Jerusalem;
22  When the people are gathered together:
  and the kingdoms also, to serve the Lord.
23  He brought down my strength in my journey:
  and shortened my days.
24  But I said, O my God,
  take me not away in the midst of mine age:
  as for thy years, they endure throughout all generations.
25  Thou, Lord, in the beginning hast laid the foundation of the earth:
  and the heavens are the work of thy hands.
26  They shall perish, but thou shalt endure:
  they all shall wax old as doth a garment;
27  And as a vesture shalt thou change them,
  and they shall be changed:
  but thou art the same, and thy years shall not fail.
28  The children of thy servants shall continue:
  and their seed shall stand fast in thy sight.

When I pour out my soul in pray'r,
Do thou, O Lord, attend;
To thy eternal throne of grace
Let my sad cry ascend.

O hide not thou thy glorious face
In times of deep distress;
Incline thine ear, and, when I call,
My sorrows soon redress.

Each cloudy portion of my life
Like scatter'd smoke expires;
My shrivell'd bones are like a hearth
Parch'd with continual fires.

My heart, like grass that feels the blast
Of some infectious wind,
Does languish so with grief, that scarce
My needful food I mind.

By reason of my sad estate
I spend my breath in groans;
My flesh is worn away, my skin
Scarce hides my starting bones.

I'm like a pelican become,
That does in deserts mourn;
Or like an owl, that sits all day
On barren trees forlorn.

In watchings or in restless dreams
The night by me is spent,
As by those solitary birds
That lonesome roofs frequent.

All day by railing foes I'm made
The subJect of their scorn;
Who all, possess'd with furious rage,
Have my destruction sworn.

When grov'ling on the ground I lie,
Oppress'd with grief and fears,
My bread is strew'd with ashes o'er,
My drink is mix'd with tears.

Because on me with double weight
Thy heavy wrath doth lie;
For thou, to make my fall more great,
Didst lift me up on high.

My days, just hast'ning to their end,
Are like an evening shade;
My beauty does, like wither'd grass,
With waning lustre fade.

But thy eternal state, O Lord,
No length of time shall waste;
The mem'ry of thy wondrous works
From age to age shall last.

Thou shalt arise, and Sion view
With an unclouded face;
For now her time is come, thy own
Appointed day of grace.

Her scatter'd ruins by thy saints
With pity are survey'd;
They grieve to see her lofty spires
In dust and rubbish laid.

The name and glory of the Lord
All heathen kings Shall fear;
When he shall Sion build again,
And in full state appear.

When he regards the poor's request,
Nor slights their earnest pray'r;
Our sons, for this recorded grace,
Shall his just praise declare.

For God, from his abode on high,
His gracious beams display'd:
The Lord from heav'n, his lofty throne,
Has all the earth survey'd.

He listen'd to the captives' moans,
He heard their mournful cry,
And freed by his resistless pow'r
The wretches doom'd to die;

That they in Sion, where he dwells,
Might celebrate his fame,
And through the holy city sing
Loud praises to his name.

When all the tribes assembling there
Their solemn vows address,
And neighb'ring lands, with glad consent,
The Lord their God confess.

But, ere my race is run, my strength
Through his fierce wrath decays;
He has, when all my wishes bloom'd,
Cut short my hopeful days.

Lord, end not thou my life, said I,
When half is scarcely past:
Thy years, from worldly changes free,
To endless ages last.

The strong foundations of the earth
Of old by thee were laid;
Thy hands the beauteous arch of heaven
With wondrous skill have made.

Whilst thou for ever shalt endure,
They soon shall pass away;
And, like a garment often worn,
Shall tarnish and decay.

Like that, when thou ordain'st their change,
To thy command they bend:
But thou continu'st still the same,
Nor have thy years an end.

Thou to the children of thy saints
Shalt lasting quiet give;
Whose happy race, securely fix'd,
Shall in thy presence live.

PART 1, vv. 1-13, 20, 21
A prayer of the afflicted (C. M.)
Hear me, O God, nor hide thy face;
But answer, lest I die;
Hast thou not built a throne of grace
To hear when sinners cry?

My days are wasted like the smoke
Dissolving in the air;
My strength is dried, my heart is broke,
And sinking in despair.

My spirits flag like with'ring grass
Burnt with excessive heat;
In secret groans my minutes pass,
And I forget to eat.

As on some lonely building's top
The sparrow tells her moan,
Far from the tents of joy and hope
I sit and grieve alone.

My soul is like a wilderness,
Where beasts of midnight howl;
There the sad raven finds her place,
And there the screaming owl.

Dark, dismal thoughts, and boding fears,
Dwell in my troubled breast;
While sharp reproaches wound my ears,
Nor give my spirit rest.

My cup is mingled with my woes,
And tears are my repast;
My daily bread, like ashes, grows
Unpleasant to my taste.

Sense can afford no real joy
To souls that feel thy frown;
Lord, 'twas thy hand advanced me high,
Thy hand hath cast me down.

My looks like withered leaves appear;
And life's declining light
Grows faint as evening shadows are
That vanish into night.

But thou for ever art the same,
O my eternal God;
Ages to come shall know thy name,
And spread thy works abroad.

Thou wilt arise and show thy face,
Nor will my Lord delay
Beyond th' appointed hour of grace,
That long-expected day.

He hears his saints, he knows their cry,
And by mysterious ways
Redeems the prisoners doomed to die,
And fills their tongues with praise.

PART 2, vv. 13-21
Prayer heard, and Zion restored (C. M.)
Let Zion and her sons rejoice,
Behold the promised hour;
Her God hath heard her mourning voice,
And comes t' exalt his power.

Her dust and ruins that remain
Are precious in our eyes;
Those ruins shall be built again,
And all that dust shall rise.

The Lord will raise Jerusalem
And stand in glory there;
Nations shall bow before his name,
And kings attend with fear.

He sits a sovereign on his throne,
With pity in his eyes;
He hears the dying prisoners' groan,
And sees their sighs arise.

He frees the souls condemned to death,
And when his saints complain,
It shan't be said, "That praying breath
Was ever spent in vain."

This shall be known when we are dead,
And left on long record;
That ages yet unborn may read,
And trust, and praise the Lord.

PART 3, vv. 23-28
Man's mortality, and Christ's eternity (L. M.)
It is the Lord our Savior's hand
Weakens our strength amidst the race;
Disease and death at his command
Arrest us, and cut short our days.

Spare us, O Lord, aloud we pray,
Nor let our sun go down at noon;
Thy years are one eternal day,
And must thy children die so soon?

Yet in the midst of death and grief
This thought our sorrow should assuage:
Our Father and our Savior live;
Christ is the same through every age.

'Twas he this earth's foundation laid;
Heaven is the building of his hand;
This earth grows old, these heavens shall fade
And all be changed at his command.

The starry curtains of the sky,
Like garments, shall be laid aside;
But still thy throne stands firm on high,
Thy church for ever must abide.

Before thy face thy church shall live,
And on thy throne thy children reign;
This dying world shall they survive,
And the dead saints be raised again.