Psalms 89:47
See how short my time is; why have you made all men for no purpose?
See how short my time is; why have you made all men for no purpose?
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4 Lord, give me knowledge of my end, and of the measure of my days, so that I may see how feeble I am.
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.)
6 Truly, every man goes on his way like an image; he is troubled for no purpose: he makes a great store of wealth, and has no knowledge of who will get it.
7 And now, Lord, what am I waiting for? my hope is in you.
48 What man now living will not see death? will he be able to keep back his soul from the underworld? (Selah.)
49 Lord, where are your earlier mercies? where is the oath which you made to David in unchanging faith?
45 You have made him old before his time; he is covered with shame. (Selah.)
46 How long, O Lord, will you Keep yourself for ever from our eyes? how long will your wrath be burning like fire?
3 Lord, what is man, that you keep him in mind? or the son of man that you take him into account?
4 Man is like a breath: his life is like a shade which is quickly gone.
13 If only you would keep me safe in the underworld, putting me in a secret place till your wrath is past, giving me a fixed time when I might come to your memory again!
14 If death takes a man, will he come to life again? All the days of my trouble I would be waiting, till the time came for me to be free.
6 My days go quicker than the cloth-worker's thread, and come to an end without hope.
7 O, keep in mind that my life is wind: my eye will never again see good.
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.
17 What is man, that you have made him great, and that your attention is fixed on him,
9 For all our days have gone by in your wrath; our years come to an end like a breath.
10 The measure of our life is seventy years; and if through strength it may be eighty years, its pride is only trouble and sorrow, for it comes to an end and we are quickly gone.
1 My spirit is broken, my days are ended, the last resting-place is ready for me.
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,
3 You send man back to his dust; and say, Go back, you children of men.
23 He has taken my strength from me in the way; he has made short my days.
24 I will say, O my God, take me not away before my time; your years go on through all generations:
11 Have I strength to go on waiting, or have I any end to be looking forward to?
2 O you sons of men, how long will you go on turning my glory into shame? how long will you give your love to foolish things, going after what is false? (Selah.)
5 Are your days as the days of man, or your years like his,
11 My days are past, my purposes are broken off, even the desires of my heart.
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.
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.
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?
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.
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.
9 O keep in mind that you made me out of earth; and will you send me back again to dust?
10 But man comes to his death and is gone: he gives up his spirit, and where is he?
20 Why have we gone from your memory for ever? why have you been turned away from us for so long?
18 Why then did you make me come out of my mother's body? It would have been better for me to have taken my last breath, and for no eye to have seen me,
20 If I have done wrong, what have I done to you, O keeper of men? why have you made me a mark for your blows, so that I am a weariness to myself?
1 <To the chief music-maker. A Psalm. Of David.> Will you for ever put me out of your memory, O Lord? will your face for ever be turned away from me?
29 You will not let me be clear of sin! why then do I take trouble for nothing?
11 By the weight of your wrath against man's sin, the glory of his form is wasted away; truly every man is but a breath. (Selah.)
12 So give us knowledge of the number of our days, that we may get a heart of wisdom.
13 Come back, O Lord; how long? let your purpose for your servants be changed.
15 Where then is my hope? and who will see my desire?
4 Man's breath goes out, he is turned back again to dust; in that day all his purposes come to an end.
14 Lord, why have you sent away my soul? why is your face covered from me?
4 What is man, that you keep him in mind? the son of man, that you take him into account?
11 There are words without number for increasing what is to no purpose, but what is man profited by them?
3 Why do we seem as beasts in your eyes, and as completely without knowledge?
4 Have you knowledge of this from early times, when man was placed on the earth,