Job - 10

¹  My soule is cut off though I liue: I wil leaue my complaint vpon my selfe, & wil speake in the bitternesse of my soule. ²  I will say vnto God, Condemne mee not: shew me, wherefore thou contendest with mee. ³  Thinkest thou it good to oppresse me, and to cast off the labour of thine handes, and to fauour the counsel of the wicked? ⁴  Hast thou carnall eyes? Or doest thou see as man seeth? ⁵  Are thy dayes as mans dayes? Or thy yeres, as the time of man, ⁶  That thou inquirest of mine iniquitie, and searchest out my sinne? ⁷  Thou knowest that I can not do wickedly: for none can deliuer me out of thine hand.

⁸  Thine handes haue made me, and fashioned mee wholy rounde about, and wilt thou destroy me? ⁹  Remeber, I pray thee, that thou hast made me as the clay, and wilt thou bring me into dust againe? ¹⁰  Hast thou not powred me out as milke? & turned me to cruds like cheese? ¹¹  Thou hast clothed me with skin and flesh, and ioyned me together with bones and sinewes. ¹²  Thou hast giuen me life, & grace: & thy visitation hath preserued my spirit. ¹³  Though thou hast hid these things in thine heart, yet I knowe that it is so with thee.

¹⁴  If I haue sinned, then thou wilt streightly looke vnto me, and wilt not holde mee giltlesse of mine iniquitie. ¹⁵  If I haue done wickedly, wo vnto me: if I haue done righteously, I will not lift vp mine head, being full of confusion, because I see mine affliction. ¹⁶  But let it increase: hunt thou me as a lyon: returne and shew thy selfe marueilous vpon me. ¹⁷  Thou renuest thy plagues against me, and thou increasest thy wrath against me: changes and armies of sorowes are against me. ¹⁸  Wherfore then hast thou brought me out of the wombe? Oh that I had perished, and that none eye had seene me! ¹⁹  And that I were as I had not bene, but brought from the wombe to the graue! ²⁰  Are not my dayes fewe? let him cease, and leaue off from me, that I may take a litle comfort, ²¹  Before I goe and shall not returne, euen to the land of darkenesse and shadow of death: ²²  Into a land, I say, darke as darknes it selfe, and into the shadow of death, where is none order, but the light is there as darkenesse.