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My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? Loudly I call, but my prayer cannot reach thee. (Psalms 21, 2)
Thou dost not answer, my God, when I cry out to thee day and night, thou dost not heed.✻ (Psalms 21, 3)
But I, poor worm, have no manhood left; I am a by-word to all, the laughing-stock of the rabble. (Psalms 21, 7)
All those who catch sight of me fall to mocking; mouthing out insults, while they toss their heads in scorn, (Psalms 21, 8)
What hand but thine drew me out from my mother’s womb? Who else was my refuge when I hung at the breast? (Psalms 21, 10)
I am spent as spilt water, all my bones out of joint, my heart turned to molten wax within me; (Psalms 21, 15)
parched is my throat, like clay in the baking, and my tongue sticks fast in my mouth; thou hast laid me in the dust, to die. (Psalms 21, 16)
Prowling about me like a pack of dogs, their wicked conspiracy hedges me in; they have torn holes in my hands and feet; (Psalms 21, 17)
rescue me from the very mouth of the lion, the very horns of the wild oxen that have brought me thus low. (Psalms 21, 22)
the poor shall eat now, and have their fill, those who look for the Lord will cry out in praise of him, Refreshed be your hearts eternally! (Psalms 21, 27)
He gives me a resting-place where there is green pasture, leads me out to the cool water’s brink, refreshed and content. (Psalms 22, 2)
dark be the valley about my path, hurt I fear none while he is with me; thy rod, thy crook are my comfort. (Psalms 22, 4)