8,6,8,6 ^81My soul for thy salvation faints; yet I thy word believe. ^82Mine eyes fail for thy word: I say, When wilt thou comfort give? ^83For like a bottle I'm become, that in the smoke is set: I'm black, and parch'd with grief; yet I thy statutes not forget. ^84How many are thy servant's days? when wilt thou execute Just judgment on these wicked men that do me persecute? ^85The proud have digged pits for me, which is against thy laws. ^86Thy words all faithful are: help me, pursu'd without a cause. ^87They so consum'd me, that on earth my life they scarce did leave: Thy precepts yet forsook I not, but close to them did cleave. ^88After thy loving-kindness, Lord, me quicken, and preserve: The testimony of thy mouth so shall I still observe. |