Job 7:6
My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent without hope.
My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent without hope.
These verses are found using AI-powered semantic similarity based on meaning and context. Results may occasionally include unexpected connections.
7O remember that my life is wind: mine eye shall no more see good.
8The eye of him that hath seen me shall see me no more: thine eyes are upon me, and I am not.
25Now my days are swifter than a post: they flee away, they see no good.
26They are passed away as the swift ships: as the eagle that hasteth to the prey.
3So am I made to possess months of vanity, and wearisome nights are appointed to me.
4When I lie down, I say, When shall I arise, and the night be gone? and I am full of tossings to and fro unto the dawning of the day.
5My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust; my skin is broken, and become loathsome.
10I said in the cutting off of my days, I shall go to the gates of the grave: I am deprived of the residue of my years.
11I said, I shall not see the LORD, even the LORD, in the land of the living: I shall behold man no more with the inhabitants of the world.
12Mine age is departed, and is removed from me as a shepherd's tent: I have cut off like a weaver my life: he will cut me off with pining sickness: from day even to night wilt thou make an end of me.
15And where is now my hope? as for my hope, who shall see it?
11My days are past, my purposes are broken off, even the thoughts of my heart.
11What is my strength, that I should hope? and what is mine end, that I should prolong my life?
11My days are like a shadow that declineth; and I am withered like grass.
16I loathe it; I would not live alway: let me alone; for my days are vanity.
20Are not my days few? cease then, and let me alone, that I may take comfort a little,
1My breath is corrupt, my days are extinct, the graves are ready for me.
18And I said, My strength and my hope is perished from the LORD:
47Remember how short my time is: wherefore hast thou made all men in vain?
10For my life is spent with grief, and my years with sighing: my strength faileth because of mine iniquity, and my bones are consumed.
7Mine eye also is dim by reason of sorrow, and all my members are as a shadow.
5Behold, thou hast made my days as an handbreadth; and mine age is as nothing before thee: verily every man at his best state is altogether vanity. Selah.
10He hath destroyed me on every side, and I am gone: and mine hope hath he removed like a tree.
4Man is like to vanity: his days are as a shadow that passeth away.
1Man that is born of a woman is of few days, and full of trouble.
2He cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down: he fleeth also as a shadow, and continueth not.
1Is there not an appointed time to man upon earth? are not his days also like the days of an hireling?
3For my days are consumed like smoke, and my bones are burned as an hearth.
14Whose hope shall be cut off, and whose trust shall be a spider's web.
9For all our days are passed away in thy wrath: we spend our years as a tale that is told.
7But now he hath made me weary: thou hast made desolate all my company.
23He weakened my strength in the way; he shortened my days.
7And now, Lord, what wait I for? my hope is in thee.
15Terrors are turned upon me: they pursue my soul as the wind: and my welfare passeth away as a cloud.
16And now my soul is poured out upon me; the days of affliction have taken hold upon me.
4Therefore is my spirit overwhelmed within me; my heart within me is desolate.
13If I wait, the grave is mine house: I have made my bed in the darkness.
13Is not my help in me? and is wisdom driven quite from me?
23I am gone like the shadow when it declineth: I am tossed up and down as the locust.
28And he, as a rotten thing, consumeth, as a garment that is moth eaten.
15I have sewed sackcloth upon my skin, and defiled my horn in the dust.
16My face is foul with weeping, and on my eyelids is the shadow of death;
20They are destroyed from morning to evening: they perish for ever without any regarding it.
9(For we are but of yesterday, and know nothing, because our days upon earth are a shadow:)
3For now it would be heavier than the sand of the sea: therefore my words are swallowed up.
4My flesh and my skin hath he made old; he hath broken my bones.
20My tabernacle is spoiled, and all my cords are broken: my children are gone forth of me, and they are not: there is none to stretch forth my tent any more, and to set up my curtains.
7Mine eye is consumed because of grief; it waxeth old because of all mine enemies.
6He hath set me in dark pces, as they that be dead of old.
1Woe is me! for I am as when they have gathered the summer fruits, as the grapegleanings of the vintage: there is no cluster to eat: my soul desired the firstripe fruit.