my soul pants toward You, O God. My soul thirsted for God, for the living God, || When do I enter and see the face of God? My tear has been bread day and night to me, || In their saying to me all the day, “Where [is] your God?” These I remember, and pour out my soul in me, || For I pass over into the shelter, || I go softly with them to the house of God, || With the voice of singing and confession, || The multitude keeping celebration! Why bow yourself, O my soul? Indeed, are you troubled