Job 7:6
My days go quicker than the cloth-worker's thread, and come to an end without hope.
My days go quicker than the cloth-worker's thread, and come to an end without hope.
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7 O, keep in mind that my life is wind: my eye will never again see good.
8 The eye of him who sees me will see me no longer: your eyes will be looking for me, but I will be gone.
25 My days go quicker than a post-runner: they go in flight, they see no good.
26 They go rushing on like reed-boats, like an eagle dropping suddenly on its food.
3 So I have for my heritage months of pain to no purpose, and nights of weariness are given to me.
4 When I go to my bed, I say, When will it be time to get up? but the night is long, and I am turning from side to side till morning light.
5 My flesh is covered with worms and dust; my skin gets hard and then is cracked again.
10 I said, In the quiet of my days I am going down into the underworld: the rest of my years are being taken away from me.
11 I said, I will not see the Lord, even the Lord in the land of the living: I will not see man again or those living in the world.
12 My resting-place is pulled up and taken away from me like a herdsman's tent: my life is rolled up like a linen-worker's thread; I am cut off from the cloth on the frame: from day even to night you give me up to pain.
15 Where then is my hope? and who will see my desire?
11 My days are past, my purposes are broken off, even the desires of my heart.
11 Have I strength to go on waiting, or have I any end to be looking forward to?
11 My days are like a shade which is stretched out; I am dry like the grass.
16 I have no desire for life, I would not be living for ever! Keep away from me, for my days are as a breath.
20 Are not the days of my life small in number? Let your eyes be turned away from me, so that I may have a little pleasure,
1 My spirit is broken, my days are ended, the last resting-place is ready for me.
18 And I said, My strength is cut off, and my hope from the Lord.
47 See how short my time is; why have you made all men for no purpose?
10 My life goes on in sorrow, and my years in weeping; my strength is almost gone because of my sin, and my bones are wasted away.
7 My eyes have become dark because of my pain, and all my body is wasted to a shade.
5 You have made my days no longer than a hand's measure; and my years are nothing in your eyes; truly, every man is but a breath. (Selah.)
10 I am broken down by him on every side, and I am gone; my hope is uprooted like a tree.
4 Man is like a breath: his life is like a shade which is quickly gone.
1 As for man, the son of woman, his days are short and full of trouble.
2 He comes out like a flower, and is cut down: he goes in flight like a shade, and is never seen again.
1 Has not man his ordered time of trouble on the earth? and are not his days like the days of a servant working for payment?
3 My days are wasted like smoke, and my bones are burned up as in a fire.
14 Whose support is cut off, and whose hope is no stronger than a spider's thread.
9 For all our days have gone by in your wrath; our years come to an end like a breath.
7 But now he has overcome me with weariness and fear, and I am in the grip of all my trouble.
23 He has taken my strength from me in the way; he has made short my days.
7 And now, Lord, what am I waiting for? my hope is in you.
15 Fears have come on me; my hope is gone like the wind, and my well-being like a cloud.
16 But now my soul is turned to water in me, days of trouble overtake me:
4 Because of this my spirit is overcome; and my heart is full of fear.
13 If I am waiting for the underworld as my house, if I have made my bed in the dark;
13 I have no help in myself, and wisdom is completely gone from me.
23 I am gone like the shade when it is stretched out: I am forced out of my place like a locust.
28 Though a man comes to nothing like a bit of dead wood, or like a robe which has become food for the worm.
15 I have made haircloth the clothing of my skin, and my horn is rolled in the dust.
16 My face is red with weeping, and my eyes are becoming dark;
20 Between morning and evening they are completely broken; they come to an end for ever, and no one takes note.
9 (For we are but of yesterday, and have no knowledge, because our days on earth are gone like a shade:)
3 For then its weight would be more than the sand of the seas: because of this my words have been uncontrolled.
4 My flesh and my skin have been used up by him and my bones broken.
20 My tent is pulled down and all my cords are broken: my children have gone from me, and they are not: no longer is there anyone to give help in stretching out my tent and hanging up my curtains.
7 My eyes are wasting away with trouble; they are becoming old because of all those who are against me.
6 He has kept me in dark places, like those who have been long dead.
1 Sorrow is mine! for I am as when they have got in the summer fruits, like the last of the grapes: there is nothing for food, not even an early fig for my desire.