Voce mea ad Dominum
I will cry aloud to God; *
I will cry aloud, and he will hear me.
In the day of my trouble I sought the Lord; *
my hands were stretched out by night and did not tire;
I refused to be comforted.
I think of God, I am restless, *
I ponder, and my spirit faints.
You will not let my eyelids close; *
I am troubled and I cannot speak.
I consider the days of old; *
I remember the years long past;
I commune with my heart in the night; *
I ponder and search my mind.
Will the Lord cast me off for ever? *
will he no more show his favor?
Has his loving-kindness come to an end for ever? *
has his promise failed for evermore?
Has God forgotten to be gracious? *
has he, in his anger, withheld his compassion?
And I said, “My grief is this: *
the right hand of the Most High has lost its power.”
I will remember the works of the Lord, *
and call to mind your wonders of old time.
I will meditate on all your acts *
and ponder your mighty deeds.
Your way, O God, is holy; *
who is so great a god as our God?
You are the God who works wonders *
and have declared your power among the peoples.
By your strength you have redeemed your people, *
the children of Jacob and Joseph.
The waters saw you, O God;
the waters saw you and trembled; *
the very depths were shaken.
The clouds poured out water;
the skies thundered; *
your arrows flashed to and fro;
The sound of your thunder was in the whirlwind;
your lightnings lit up the world; *
the earth trembled and shook.
Your way was in the sea,
and your paths in the great waters, *
yet your footsteps were not seen.
You led your people like a flock *
by the hand of Moses and Aaron.
O God, the heathen have come into your inheritance;
they have profaned your holy temple; *
they have made Jerusalem a heap of rubble.
They have given the bodies of your servants as food for the birds of the air, *
and the flesh of your faithful ones to the beasts of the field.
They have shed their blood like water on every side of Jerusalem, *
and there was no one to bury them.
We have become a reproach to our neighbors, *
an object of scorn and derision to those around us.
How long will you be angry, O Lord? *
will your fury blaze like fire for ever?
Pour out your wrath upon the heathen who have not known you *
and upon the kingdoms that have not called upon your Name.
For they have devoured Jacob *
and made his dwelling a ruin.
Remember not our past sins;
let your compassion be swift to meet us; *
for we have been brought very low.
Help us, O God our Savior, for the glory of your Name; *
deliver us and forgive us our sins, for your Name’s sake.
Why should the heathen say, “Where is their God?” *
Let it be known among the heathen and in our sight
that you avenge the shedding of your servants’ blood.
Let the sorrowful sighing of the prisoners come before you, *
and by your great might spare those who are condemned to die.
May the revilings with which they reviled you, O Lord, *
return seven-fold into their bosoms.
For we are your people and the sheep of your pasture; *
we will give you thanks for ever
and show forth your praise from age to age.