Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Dixi, custodiam. Psalm xxxix.
LORD, let me know mine end, and the number of my days; * that I may be certified how long I have to live.
    Behold, thou hast made my days as it were a span long, and mine age is even as nothing in respect of thee; * and verily every man living is altogether vanity.
    For man walketh in a vain shadow, and disquieteth himself in vain; * he heapeth up riches, and cannot tell who shall gather them.
    And now, Lord, what is my hope? * truly my hope is even in thee.
    Deliver me from all mine offences; * and make me not a rebuke unto the foolish. When thou with rebukes dost chasten man for sin, thou makest his beauty to consume away, like as it were a moth fretting a garment: * every man therefore is but vanity.
    Hear my prayer, O Lord, and with thine ears consider my calling; * hold not thy peace at my tears;
    For I am a stranger with thee, and a sojourner, * as all my fathers were.
    O spare me a little, that I may recover my strength, * before I go hence, and be no more seen.