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 Let my prayer come in before thee: * incline thy ear to my petition.

For my soul is filled with evils: * and my life hath drawn nigh to hell.

I am counted among them that go down to the pit: * I am become as a man without help, free among the dead.

Like the slain sleeping in the sepulchres, whom thou rememberest no more: * and they are cast off from thy land.

They have laid me in the lower pit: * in the dark places, and in the shadow of death.

Thy wrath is strong over me: * and all thy waves thou hast brought in upon me.

Thou has put away my acquaintance far from me: * they have set me an abomination to themselves.

I was delivered up, and came not forth: * my eyes languished through poverty.

All the day I cried to thee, O Lord: * I stretched out my hands to thee.

Wilt thou show wonders to the dead: * or shall physicians raise to life, and give praise to thee?