I am weary of my crying I have prayed and cried to God long and fervently, and yet God seems to neglect and forsake me. My throat is dried With loud and frequent cries. Mine eyes fail With looking to God for that aid and deliverance which he hath promised, and which I confidently expected, but hitherto in vain. They that hate me without a cause Without any injury or occasion given them by me; are more than the hairs of my head Are grown more formidable, both for their number, which is exceeding great, and for their power, for they are mighty So that, if thou do not interpose for my deliverance, they are well able to destroy me, to which they do not want the will, having conceived an implacable and undeserved hatred against me. Though “I have been so far from provoking their malice, that I restored that which I took not away For I was content, rather than quarrel with them, to part with my own right, and make them satisfaction for a wrong which I never did them.” Bishop Patrick. Under this one kind of ill usage he comprehends all those injuries and violences which they had practised against him.

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