Psalms 89:47
Sela. LORDE, how longe wilt thou hyde thy self? For euer? shal thy wrath burne like fyre?
Sela. LORDE, how longe wilt thou hyde thy self? For euer? shal thy wrath burne like fyre?
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4 My hert was hote within me, & whyle I was thus musynge, the fyre kyndled: so that I spake with my tonge.
5 LORDE, let me knowe myne ende, and the nombre of my dayes: that I maye be certified what I wante.
6 Beholde, thou hast made my dayes a spanne longe, and my life is as it were nothinge before the. O how vayne are all men lyuynge?
7 Sela. 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.
48 O remembre how shorte my tyme is, hast thou made all men for naught?
49 What man is he that lyueth, and shal not se death? Maye a ma delyuer his owne soule from the honde of hell?
45 Thou hast put out his glory, and cast his Trone downe to the grounde.
46 The dayes of his youth hast thou shortened, and couered him with dishonoure.
3 LORDE, what is ma, that thou hast soch respecte vnto him? Or the sonne of man, that thou so regardest him?
4 Man is like a thinge of naught, his tyme passeth awaye like a shadowe.
13 O 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.
14 Maye a deed man lyue agayne? All the dayes of this my pilgremage am I lokynge, when my chaunginge shal come.
6 my dayes passe ouer more spedely, the a weeuer can weeue out his webbe, and are gone, or I am awarre.
7 O remembre, that my life is but a wynde, ad that myne eye shal nomore se the pleasures
16 I can se no remedy, I shall lyue nomore: O spare me then, for my dayes are but vayne
17 What is man, that thou hast him in soch reputacion, and settest so moch by him?
9 For when thou art angrie, all or dayes are gone, we brynge or yeares to an ende, as it were a tayle that is tolde.
10 The dayes of oure age are iij. score yeares & ten: & though men be so stronge that they come to iiij. score yeares, yet is their strength then but laboure and sorowe: so soone passeth it awaye, & we are gone.
1 My breth fayleth, my dayes are shortened, I am harde at deathes dore.
20 Shall not my short life come soone to an ende? O holde the fro me, let me alone, that I maye ease myself a litle:
3 Thou turnest man to destruccion, Agayne, thou sayest: come agayne ye children of men.
23 He hath brought downe my strength in my iourney, and shortened my dayes.
24 Yet wil I saye: O my God, take me not awaye in ye myddest of myne age: as for thy yeares, they endure thorow out all generacions.
11 What power haue I to endure? Or? what is myne ende, that my soule might be paciet?
2 O ye sonnes off men: how longe will ye blaspheme myne honoure? why haue ye soch pleasure in vanyte, & seke after lyes?
5 Are thy dayes as the dayes of man, and thy yeares as mans yeares?
11 My dayes are past, my thoughtes are vanished awaye, which haue vexed myne herte,
12 Myne age is folden vp together and taken awaye fro me, like a sheperdes cotage: my lyfe is hewen of, like as a weeuer cutteth of his webb. Whyl I was yet takinge my rest, he hewed me of, & made an ende of me in one daie.
10 Haue mercy vpon me, O LORDE, for I am in trouble, myne eye is consumed for very heuynesse, yee my soule and my body.
1 Is not the life off ma vpon earth a very batayll? Are not his dayes, like the dayes of an hyred seruaunte?
1 Man that is borne of a woman, hath but a shorte tyme to lyue, and is full of dyuerse miseries.
2 He cometh vp, and falleth awaye like a floure. He flyeth as it were a shadowe, and neuer continueth in one state.
10 I thought I shulde haue gone to the gates of hell in my best age, and haue wanted the residue of my yeares.
9 O remembre (I beseke the) how that thou madest me of the moulde of the earth, and shalt brynge me to earth agayne.
10 But as for man, when he is deed, perished and consumed awaye, what becommeth of him?
20 Wherfore wilt thou still forget vs, and forsake vs so longe?
18 Wherfore hast thou brought me out of my mothers wombe? O that I had perished, & that no eye had sene me.
20 I haue offended, what shal I do vnto ye, O thou preseruer off men? Why hast thou made me to stonde in thy waye, and am so heuy a burden vnto myself?
1 How longe wilt thou forget me, o LORDE? for euer? how longe wilt thou hyde thy face fro me?
29 Yf I be then a wicked one, why haue I laboured in vayne?
11 When thou punyshest man for synne, thou chastenest him: so that his beutie consumeth awaye, like as it were a mothe. O how vayne are all men?
12 O teach vs to nombre oure dayes, that we maye applie oure hertes vnto wy?dome.
13 Turne the agayne (o LORDE) at the last, and be gracious vnto thy seruauntes.
15 What helpeth then my longe tarienge? Or, who wil fulfill the thinge, that I loke for?
4 Blessed is he that hath ye God of Iacob for his helpe, and whose hope is in the LORDE his God.
14 LORDE, why puttest thou awaye my soule? Wherfore hydest thou thy face fro me?
4 Oh what is man, yt thou art so myndfull of him? ether the sonne of ma that thou visitest him?
11 A vayne thinge is it to cast out many wordes, but what hath a man els?
3 Wherfore are we counted as beestes, & reputed so vyle in youre sight?
4 Knowest thou not this, namely: that from the begynninge (euer sence the creacion of man vpon earth)