A song for pilgrims ascending to Jerusalem. A psalm of David.
1Lord, my heart is not proud;
my eyes are not haughty.
I don’t concern myself with matters too great
or too awesome for me to grasp.
2Instead, I have calmed and quieted myself,
like a weaned child who no longer cries for its mother’s milk.
Yes, like a weaned child is my soul within me.
3O Israel, put your hope in the Lord—
now and always.