When I said, 'My bed doth comfort me,' He taketh away in my talking my couch.

In a day of my distress the Lord I sought, My hand by night hath been spread out, And it doth not cease, My soul hath refused to be comforted.

I remember God, and make a noise, I meditate, and feeble is my spirit. Selah.

My refreshing for me [is] sorrow, For me my heart [is] sick.