1 Oft did they vex me from my youth,
may Israel now declare;
2 oft did they vex me from my youth,
yet not victorious were.
3 The ploughers ploughed upon my back;
they long their furrows made;
4 The righteous Lord did cut the cords
the wicked round me laid.
5 Let Zion’s haters all be turned,
into confusion thrown,
6 as grass on housetops let them be,
which fades ere it be grown:
7 whereof enough to fill his hand
the mower cannot find;
nor can the man his bosom fill,
whose work is sheaves to bind.
8 Nor is it said by passers by,
God’s blessing on you rest:
we in the Lord's most holy name
pray that ye may be blest.