otcanon
Psalms 142
David, in a cave and surrounded by enemies, pours out his complaint to Jehovah alone — no man knows him, no refuge remains, and his persecutors are stronger than he is. The cry resolves not in rescue already accomplished but in trust declared: Jehovah is his portion in the land of the living. The closing petition — bring my soul out of prison — carries the Joseph-of-Egypt type forward: the unjustly confined servant calls on the God who knows his path, expecting that deliverance will draw the righteous to compass him about when Jehovah deals bountifully.
1
I cried unto the LORD with my voice; with my voice unto the LORD did I make my supplication.
2
I poured out my complaint before him; I shewed before him my trouble.
3
When my spirit was overwhelmed within me, then thou knewest my path. In the way wherein I walked have they privily laid a snare for me.
4
I looked on my right hand, and beheld, but there was no man that would know me: refuge failed me; no man cared for my soul.
5
I cried unto thee, O LORD: I said, Thou art my refuge and my portion in the land of the living.
6
Attend unto my cry; for I am brought very low: deliver me from my persecutors; for they are stronger than I.
7
Bring my soul out of prison, that I may praise thy name: the righteous shall compass me about; for thou shalt deal bountifully with me.
