Job 17:15
What helpeth then my longe tarienge? Or, who wil fulfill the thinge, that I loke for?
What helpeth then my longe tarienge? Or, who wil fulfill the thinge, that I loke for?
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13Though I tary neuer so moch, yet the graue is my house, and I must make my bed in the darcke.
14I call corrupcion my father, and the wormes call I my mother and my sister.
16All that I haue, shall go downe in to the pytt, & lye with me in the dust.
17He hath put my soule out of rest, I forget all good thinges.
18I thought in my self: I am vndone, there is no hope for me in the LORDE.
11What power haue I to endure? Or? what is myne ende, that my soule might be paciet?
7Sela. Yee euery man walketh as it were a shadowe, and disquieteth him self in vayne: he heapeth vp riches, and can not tell to whom he gathereth them.
5My flesh is clothed with wormes, fylthinesse and dust: my skynne is wythered, and crompled together:
6my dayes passe ouer more spedely, the a weeuer can weeue out his webbe, and are gone, or I am awarre.
7O remembre, that my life is but a wynde, ad that myne eye shal nomore se the pleasures
8therof yee and that none other mans eye shall se me eny more. For yf thou fasten thine eyes vpon me, I come to naught like
1My breth fayleth, my dayes are shortened, I am harde at deathes dore.
9For when thou thynkest to haue holde vpon him, he shall begyle the: Euery man also that seyth him, shall go backe. And why?
10He hath destroyed me on euery syde, and I am vndone: My hope hath he taken awaye fro me, as it were a tre plucte vp by the rote.
15For in the (O LORDE) is my trust, thou shalt heare me, O LORDE my God.
18Wherfore hast thou brought me out of my mothers wombe? O that I had perished, & that no eye had sene me.
19Yf they had caried me to my graue, as soone as I was borne, then shulde I be now, as though I had neuer bene.
20Shall not my short life come soone to an ende? O holde the fro me, let me alone, that I maye ease myself a litle:
21afore I go thyther, from whence I shal not turne agayne: Namely, to that londe of darcknesse & shadowe of death:
13Am I able to helpe my self? Is not my strength gone fro me,
13O that thou woldest kepe me, and hyde me in the hell, vntill thy wrath were stilled: & to appoynte me a tyme, wherin thou mightest remembre me.
14Maye a deed man lyue agayne? All the dayes of this my pilgremage am I lokynge, when my chaunginge shal come.
13Euen so goeth it with all them, that forget God: and euen thus also shal the ypocrytes hope come to naught.
14His confidence shalbe destroyed, for he trusteth in a spyders webbe.
8What hope hath ye Ypocrite, though he haue greate good, and though God geue him riches after his hertes desyre?
26that I shal be clothed againe with this skynne, and se God in my flesh.
27Yee I my self shal beholde him, not with other but with these same eyes. My reynes are consumed within me,
21Why doest thou not forgeue me my synne? Wherfore takest thou not awaye my wickednesse? Beholde, now must I slepe in the dust: and yff thou sekest me tomorow in the mornynge, I shalbe gone.
9What profit is there in my bloude, yf I go downe to corrupcion?
7My countenaunce is heuy for very anger, & the membres of my body are become like a shadowe.
18Wherfore came I forth off my mothers wombe? To haue experience of laboure and sorowe? and to lede my life with shame?
21Whyle I cosidre these thinges in my hert, I get a hope agayne.
19I am eue as it were claye, & am become like asshes & dust.
6Where is now thy feare of God, thy stedfastnesse, thy pacience, and the perfectnesse of thy life?
11My dayes are past, my thoughtes are vanished awaye, which haue vexed myne herte,
15Beholde, these men saye vnto me: Where is the worde of the LORDE? Let it come.
15Lo, there is nether coforte ner hope for me, yf he wil slaye me. But yf I shewe and reproue myne owne wayes in his sight,
7Yf a tre be cutt downe, there is some hope yet, that it will sproute and shute forth the braunches againe:
20As for the eyes of the vngodly, they shal be consumed, and not escape: their hope shalbe misery and sorow of mynde.
47Sela. LORDE, how longe wilt thou hyde thy self? For euer? shal thy wrath burne like fyre?
7When an vngodly man dyeth, his hope is gone, the confydence of riches shal perish.
17Be not now terrible vnto me (o LORDE) for thou art he, in whom I hope, when I am in parell.
15I haue sowed a sack cloth vpon my skynne, and lye with my strength in the dust.
16My face is swolle with wepinge, & myne eyes are waxen dymne.
18Sorowe is come vpon me, and heuynes vexeth my herte:
3Thinkest thou it now well done, to open thine eyes vpon soch one, and to brynge me before the in iudgment?
11I spake within my self: I shal neuer viset the LORDE God in this life: I shal neuer se man, amonge the dwellers of the worlde
5I haue leaned vpo ye euer sens I was borne, thou art he that toke me out of my mothers wombe, therfore is my prayse allwaye of the.
19the shewe me where light dwelleth, and where darcknes is:
19the waters pearse thorow the very stones by litle and litle, the floudes wa?she awaye the grauell & earth: Euen so destroyest thou the hope of man in like maner.