Job 7
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.
Job Cries Out to God
6My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, and are spent without hope.
7O remember that my life is wind: mine eye shall no more see good. +
8The eye of him that hath seen me shall see me no more: thine eyes are upon me, and I am not. +
9As the cloud is consumed and vanisheth away: so he that goeth down to the grave 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 whale, 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 my life.
16I loathe it; 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 depart from me, nor let me alone till I swallow down my spittle?
20I have sinned; what shall I do unto thee, O thou preserver of men? why hast thou set me as a mark against 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 sleep in the dust; and thou shalt seek me in the morning, but I shall not be. +