1 Oft did they vex me from my youth,
may Isr’el now declare;
2 Oft did they vex me from my youth,
yet not victorious were.
3 The plowers plow’d upon my back;
they long their furrows drew.
4 The righteous Lord did cut the cords
of the ungodly crew.
5 Let Sion’s haters all be turn’d
back with confusion.
6 As grass on houses’ tops be they,
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 Neither say they who do go by,
God’s blessing on you rest:
We in the name of God the Lord
do wish you to be blest.