Psalms.
43.
Right me, defend my cause against a pitiless people. From the crafty and crooked, O God, deliver me. 
For you are God my protector: why have you cast me off? Why must I walk so sadly, so hard pressed by the foe? 
Send forth your light and your truth, let them be my guides: to your holy hill let them bring me, to the place where you live. 
Then will I go to God’s altar, to God my rejoicing; and with joy on the lyre I will praise you, O God, my God. 
Why am I downcast? Why this moaning within me? Hope in God; for yet will I praise him, my help, my God.