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A Song of degrees.
Unto thee lift I up mine eyes,
O thou that dwellest in the heavens.
Behold, as the eyes of servants look unto the hand of their masters,
And as the eyes of a maiden unto the hand of her mistress;
So our eyes wait upon the Lord our God,
Until that he have mercy upon us.
Have mercy upon us, O Lord, have mercy upon us:
For we are exceedingly filled with contempt.
Our soul is exceedingly filled
With the scorning of those that are at ease,
And with the contempt of the proud.