Common Tune

Hymn · Psalm 119

Psalm 119:81-88 (Kaf)

ST. URSULA · C.M.D. · words from the Scottish Psalter, 1650; rev. #doreancon, 2026 · music Frederick Westlake

auto-underlaid These words and this tune share a meter but have no hand-edited setting; the underlay was fitted automatically (syllable-for-note, validated).

Psalm 119:81-88 (Kaf) they thou my earth scarce ex hope my when thy life wilt word leave: cute be. did e shall so man soul days? con y for They 2. How 1. My 3. on vant's tion faints; sumed me, thy sal that va ser thy are to me thou in them com that but When close keep wilt pur me? did suit? fort cleave. fail ment yet on for cepts pre judg eyes Thy Just Mine wick word: not, men say, sook I ed I for thy these the en, a pre thy is and gainst smoke is in quick me which that laws. serve: set: ter proud like a thy have Af The For Lord, me, come, ness, for be ing deep tle kind pits I'm bot dug lov with I utes will out not from pur thy which sued stat swerve. cause. get. not a for tes words black, mouth, ti all and The Thy I'm of are: grief; me, I thy help yet ful with parched faith mon y Scottish Psalter, 1650; rev. #doreancon, 2026 ST. URSULA C.M.D. Frederick Westlake, 1896
Psalm 119:81-88 (Kaf) they thou my earth scarce ex hope my when thy life wilt word leave: cute be. did e shall so man soul days? con y for They 2. How 1. My 3. on vant's tion faints; sumed me, thy sal that va ser thy are to me thou in them com that but When close keep wilt pur me? did suit? fort cleave. fail ment yet on for cepts pre judg eyes Thy Just Mine wick word: not, men say, sook I ed I for thy these the en, a pre thy is and gainst smoke is in quick me which that laws. serve: set: ter proud like a thy have Af The For Lord, me, come, ness, for be ing deep tle kind pits I'm bot dug lov with I utes will out not from pur thy which sued stat swerve. cause. get. not a for tes words black, mouth, ti all and The Thy I'm of are: grief; me, I thy help yet ful with parched faith mon y Scottish Psalter, 1650; rev. #doreancon, 2026 ST. URSULA C.M.D. Frederick Westlake, 1896

1.My soul for thy salvation faints;
thy word my hope shall be.
Mine eyes fail for thy word: I say,
When wilt thou comfort me?
For like a bottle I'm become,
that in the smoke is set:
I'm black, and parched with grief; yet I
thy statutes not forget.

2.How many are thy servant's days?
when wilt thou execute
Just judgment on these wicked men
that keep me in pursuit?
The proud have dug deep pits for me,
which is against thy laws.
Thy words all faithful are: help me,
pursued without a cause.

3.They so consumed me, that on earth
my life they scarce did leave:
Thy precepts yet forsook I not,
but close to them did cleave.
After thy loving-kindness, Lord,
me quicken, and preserve:
The testimony of thy mouth,
from which I will not swerve.

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Same meter but needs editorial underlay: SERAPH, ST. MATTHEW.

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