Job 30:31
My harpe is turned to mourning, and my organs into the voyce of them that weepe.
My harpe is turned to mourning, and my organs into the voyce of them that weepe.
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30My skinne vpon me is turned to blacke, and my bones are brent with heate.
15The ioy of our heart is gone, our melodious meeting is turned into mourning.
27My bowels seethe in me without rest, for the dayes of my trouble are come vpon me.
28I went mourning without heate, I stoode vp in the congregation, & communed with them.
10The mirth and cheare is taken away out of the plentifull fielde, and in the vineyardes there shalbe no ioy nor gladnesse: The treader shall treade out no wine in their presses, the song of their mery cheare haue I layde downe.
11Wherfore my bowels shall rumble like an Harpe for Moabs sake, & mine inwarde partes for the cities sake that is made of bricke.
9Haue mercy vpon me O God, for I am in distresse: mine eye, my soule, and my belly be consumed for very heauinesse.
10For my life is wasted with sorow, and mine eares with mourning: my strength fayleth me because of mine iniquitie, and my bones are putrified.
4And my spirite is ouerwhelmed within me: and my heart is desolate in the midst of me.
16Therfore is my soule now powred out vpon me, and the dayes of my trouble haue taken hold vpon me.
17My bones are pearsed through in the night season, and my sinewes take no rest.
11And foorthwith thou hast turned my mourning into dauncing: thou hast put of my sackcloth, and gyrded me with gladnes.
5Through the noyse of my gronyng: my bones wyll scase cleaue to my fleshe.
15I haue sowed a sackecloth vpon my skinne, and wallowed my head in the dust.
16My face is withered with weeping, & in mine eyes is the shadowe of death.
6He hath made me a byworde of the people, where as afore I was their ioy.
7Myne eye is dimme for very heauinesse, and all my strength is lyke a shadowe.
18I woulde haue had comfort against sorowe: but sorowe is come vpon me, and heauinesse vexeth my heart.
8Lament as a virgin girded with sackcloth, for the husbande of her youth.
31Therefore will I mourne for Moab, for whole Moabs sake: my heart shall lament the men of Kirchares.
21Ueryly thus was my heart inflamed: thus was my reynes pricked.
10And I will turne your feastes into mourning, and all your songues into lamentation: and I will bring sackecloth vpon all loynes, and baldnesse vpon euery head, & I will make it as the mourning of an only sonne, and the end therof as a bitter day.
20Consider (O Lorde) howe I am troubled, my wombe is disquieted, my heart turneth about in me, and I am full of heauinesse, because I rebelled stubburnly: the sworde hurteth me without, and within I am lyke vnto death.
21They heare my mournyng, but there is none that wyll comfort me: All myne enemies haue hearde of my trouble, and are glad therof because thou hast done it: and thou hast brought foorth the time which thou calledst, when they also shal be lyke vnto me.
12Haue ye no regarde all ye that go foreby, beholde & see yf there be any sorowe lyke vnto mine, wherwith the Lorde hath troubled me in the day of his fearefull wrath.
13From aboue hath he sent downe a fire into my bones, and it burneth them cruelly: he hath layde a net for my feete, and throwen me wyde open, he hath made me desolate, so that I must euer be mournyng.
7The wine fayleth, the vine hath no myght, all they that haue ben mery of heart are come to mournyng.
8The myrth of tabrettes is layde downe, the noyse of such as haue made mery is ceassed, the ioy at the harpe is at an ende.
4My heart trembleth within me: and the feare of death is fallen vpon me.
36Wherefore my heart mourneth for Moab like a crowde playing an heauie song, and for the mens sake of Kirchares my heart mourneth also, euen as a pipe that pipeth a dolefull song: for their riches which they haue gathered, shalbe destroyed.
16Therfore do I weepe, and mine eyes gushe out of water: for the comfort that shoulde quicken me is farre fro me, my children are driuen away: for why? the enemie hath gotten the vpper hande.
6I am become crooked, and am exceedingly pulled downe: I go a mourning all the day long.
3Against me is he turned, he turneth his hande dayly against me.
4My flesh and my skinne hath he made olde, and my bones hath he bruised.
3Upon an instrument of ten strynges, and vpon the Lute: vpon the Harpe with a solemne sounde.
2We hanged our harpes on the Salon trees: in the mydst of it.
3For whyle I helde my tongue: my bones consumed away through my dayly roaring.
17Because I am disposed to a haltyng: and my sorowe is euer in my syght.
38But if case be that my lande crye against me, or that the forowes thereof make any complaynt:
21I am sore vexed, because of the hurt of my people, I am heauie and abashed:
24For my sighes come before I eate, and my roringes are powred out like the water:
3My teares haue ben my meate day and nyght: whyle they dayly say vnto me where is nowe thy God.
11He hath marred my wayes, and broken me in peeces, he hath layde me waste altogether.
14I am laughed to scorne of all my people, they make songues vpon me all the day long.
25Dyd not I weepe with hym that was in trouble? Had not my soule compassion vpon the poore?
14I am as it were into water resolued, and all my bones are out of ioynt: my heart also is like waxe melted in the middest of my bowels.
10My heart panteth, my strength hath fayled me: and the lyght of myne eyes is gone from me.
20My tabernacle is destroyed, and all my cordes are broken, my chyldren are gone fro me, & can no where be founde: Nowe haue I none to spreade out my tent, nor to set vp my hanginges.
4My heart panted, fearefulnesse came vpon me: the nyght of my voluptuousnesse hath he turned agaynst me into feare.
8Wherefore I wyll mourne and make lamentation, bare and naked wyl I go: I wyll mourne lyke the Dragons, and take sorowe as the Ostriches.