Job 7

¹Is there not a warfare to man upon earth? and are not his days like the days of an hireling? ²As a servant that earnestly desireth the shadow, and as an hireling that looketh for his wages: ³So am I made to possess months of vanity, and wearisome nights are appointed to me. ⁴When I lie down, I say, When shall I arise? but the night is long; and I am full of tossings to and fro unto the dawning of the day. ⁵My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust; my skin closeth up and breaketh out afresh. ⁶My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, and are spent without hope. ⁷Oh remember that my life is wind: mine eye shall no more see good. ⁸The eye of him that seeth me shall behold me no more: thine eyes shall be upon me, but I shall not be. ⁹As the cloud is consumed and vanisheth away, so he that goeth down to Sheol shall come up no more. ¹⁰He shall return no more to his house, neither shall his place know him any more. ¹¹Therefore I will not refrain my mouth; I will speak in the anguish of my spirit; I will complain in the bitterness of my soul. ¹²Am I a sea, or a sea-monster, that thou settest a watch over me? ¹³When I say, My bed shall comfort me, my couch shall ease my complaint; ¹⁴Then thou scarest me with dreams, and terrifiest me through visions: ¹⁵So that my soul chooseth strangling, and death rather than thesemy bones. ¹⁶I loathe my life; I would not live alway: let me alone; for my days are vanity. ¹⁷What is man, that thou shouldest magnify him, and that thou shouldest set thine heart upon him, ¹⁸And that thou shouldest visit him every morning, and try him every moment? ¹⁹How long wilt thou not look away from me, nor let me alone till I swallow down my spittle? ²⁰If I have sinned, what do I unto thee, O thou watcher of men? why hast thou set me as a mark for thee, so that I am a burden to myself? ²¹And why dost thou not pardon my transgression, and take away mine iniquity? for now shall I lie down in the dust; and thou shall seek me diligently, but I shall not be.