Psalm 142
Refuge in despair
The psalmist pours out complaint to the Lord, confessing overwhelming despair and isolation from all earthly help; he calls for deliverance from persecutors stronger than himself and promises praise for God's bounty.
7 verses. The 142nd of 150 chapters in Psalms, in Poetry and Wisdom.
1I cried unto the Lord with my voice; with my voice unto the Lord did I make my supplication.
2I poured out my complaint before him; I shewed before him my trouble.
3When my spirit was overwhelmed within me, then thou knewest my path. In the way wherein I walked have they privily laid a snare for me.
4I looked on my right hand, and beheld, but there was no man that would know me: refuge failed me; no man cared for my soul.
5I cried unto thee, O Lord: I said, Thou art my refuge and my portion in the land of the living.
6Attend unto my cry; for I am brought very low: deliver me from my persecutors; for they are stronger than I.
7Bring my soul out of prison, that I may praise thy name: the righteous shall compass me about; for thou shalt deal bountifully with me.
Matthew Henry on Psalm 142
2,010 words, in 2 passages.
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King James Version. Public domain. Set as prose throughout, including the poetry, because the text is published to us without its lines.