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.