⁶ I am utterly bowed down and prostrate;
    all day long I go around mourning.^(A)

³ for not by their own sword did they win the land,
    nor did their own arm give them victory,
but your right hand, and your arm,
    and the light of your countenance,
    for you delighted in them.^(A)

³ I think of God, and I moan;
    I meditate, and my spirit faints. Selah^(A)

²⁴ “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,
    “therefore I will hope in him.”^(A)