their snares uncaptured. PSALM CXLII. 1 With my voice to Jehovah will I cry, With my voice to Jehovah will I make supplication. 2 I will pour out before Him my complaint, My straits before Him will I declare. 3 When my spirit wraps itself in gloom upon me, Then Thou--Thou knowest my path; In the way wherein I have to go They have hidden a snare for me. 4 Look on the right hand and see, There is none that knows me, Shelter is perished from me, There is no one that makes inquiry after my soul. 5 I have cried unto Thee, Jehovah, I have said, Thou art my refuge, My portion in the land of the living. 6 Attend to my shrill cry, For I am become very weak; Deliver me from my pursuers, For they are too strong for me. 7 Bring out from prison my soul, That I may thank Thy name; In me shall the righteous glory, For Thou dealest bountifully with me. The superscription not only calls this a psalm of David's, but specifies the circumstances of its composition. It breathes the same spirit of mingled fear and faith which characterises many earlier psalms; but one fails to catch the unmistakable note of freshness, and there are numerous echoes of preceding singers. This psalmist has as deep sorrows as his predecessors, and as firm a grasp of Jehovah, his helper. His song runs naturally in well-worn channels, and is none the less genuine and acceptable to God because it does. Trouble and lack of human sympathy or help have done their best work on him, since they have driven him to God's breast. He has cried in vain to man; and now he has gathered himself up in a firm resolve to cast himself upon God. Men may take offence that they are only appealed to as a last resort, but God does not. The psalmist is too much in earnest to be content with unspoken prayers. His voice must help his thoughts. Wonderful is the power of articulate utterance in defining, and often in diminishing, sorrows. Put into words, many a burden shrinks. Speaking his grief, many a man is calmed and braced to endure. The complaint poured out before God ceases to flood the spirit; the straits told to Him begin to grip less tightly.