6. I troubled am, and much bow'd down;all day I mourning go.
7. For a disease that loathsome isso fills my loins with pain,That in my weak and weary fleshno soundness doth remain.
8. So feeble and infirm am I,and broken am so sore,That, through disquiet of my heart,I have been made to roar.
9. O Lord, all that I do desireis still before thine eye;And of my heart the secret groansnot hidden are from thee.
10. My heart doth pant incessantly,my strength doth quite decay;As for mine eyes, their wonted lightis from me gone away.