1A song for pilgrims ascending to Jerusalem. A psalm of David. Lord , 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.
