the thought of my affliction and my homelessness
is wormwood and gall!
my soul continually thinks of it
and is bowed down within me.
but this i call to mind,
and therefore i have hope:
the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,
His mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
"the Lord is my portion," says my soul,
"therefore i will hope in Him."
the Lord is good to those who wait for Him,
to the soul that seeks Him.