Though the fig tree should not blossom
And there be no produce on the vines,
Though the yield of the olive should fail
And the fields yield no food,
Though the flock should be cut off from the fold
And there be no cattle in the stalls,
Yet I will exult in Yahweh;
I will rejoice in the God of my salvation.

Yahweh, the Lord, is my strength,
And He has set my feet like hinds’ feet
And makes me tread on my high places.
For the choir director, on my stringed instruments.

¶O Yahweh, I have heard the report about You, and I fear.
O Yahweh, revive Your work in the midst of the years;
In the midst of the years make it known;
In rage remember compassion.

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