Job 7. Job: My suffering is comfortless.
1Is there not an appointed time to man upon earth? are not his days also like the days of an hireling? 2As a servant earnestly desireth the shadow, and as an hireling looketh for the reward of his work: 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, and the night be gone? 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 is broken, and become loathsome. 6 My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, and are spent without hope.
7 O remember that my life is wind: mine eye shall no…
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