A song for pilgrims ascending to Jerusalem. A psalm of David.

1 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.

2 Instead, 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.

3 O Israel, put your hope in the Lord— now and always.