PSAL. CXXXI. A Song of degrees of David

My heart's not haughty Lord, nor lofty are mine eyes: In things too great or high for me, is not mine exercise. My self I surely have compos'd and made to rest. Like as a child that weaned is from off his mothers breast.

I'm like a weaned child. Let Israel then stay With expectation on the Lord from henceforth and for aye.