Job 17:15
And where `is' now my hope? Yea, my hope, who doth behold it?
And where `is' now my hope? Yea, my hope, who doth behold it?
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13If I wait -- Sheol `is' my house, In darkness I have spread out my couch.
14To corruption I have called: -- `Thou `art' my father.' `My mother' and `my sister' -- to the worm.
16`To' the parts of Sheol ye go down, If together on the dust we may rest.
17And Thou castest off from peace my soul, I have forgotten prosperity.
18And I say, Perished hath my strength and my hope from Jehovah.
11What `is' my power that I should hope? And what mine end That I should prolong my life?
7And, now, what have I expected? O Lord, my hope -- it `is' of Thee.
5Clothed hath been my flesh `with' worms, And a clod of dust, My skin hath been shrivelled and is loathsome,
6My days swifter than a weaving machine, And they are consumed without hope.
7Remember Thou that my life `is' a breath, Mine eye turneth not back to see good.
8The eye of my beholder beholdeth me not. Thine eyes `are' upon me -- and I am not.
1My spirit hath been destroyed, My days extinguished -- graves `are' for me.
9Lo, the hope of him is found a liar, Also at his appearance is not one cast down?
10He breaketh me down round about, and I go, And removeth like a tree my hope.
15Because for Thee, O Jehovah, I have waited, Thou dost answer, O Lord my God.
18And why from the womb Hast Thou brought me forth? I expire, and the eye doth not see me.
19As I had not been, I am, From the belly to the grave I am brought,
20Are not my days few? Cease then, and put from me, And I brighten up a little,
21Before I go, and return not, Unto a land of darkness and death-shade,
13Is not my help with me, And substance driven from me?
13O that in Sheol Thou wouldst conceal me, Hide me till the turning of Thine anger, Set for me a limit, and remember me.
14If a man dieth -- doth he revive? All days of my warfare I wait, till my change come.
13So `are' the paths of all forgetting God, And the hope of the profane doth perish,
14Whose confidence is loathsome, And the house of a spider his trust.
8For what `is' the hope of the profane, When He doth cut off? When God doth cast off his soul?
26And after my skin hath compassed this `body', Then from my flesh I see God:
27Whom I -- I see on my side, And mine eyes have beheld, and not a stranger, Consumed have been my reins in my bosom.
21Thou dost not take away my transgression, And cause to pass away mine iniquity, Because now, for dust I lie down: And Thou hast sought me -- and I am not!
9`What gain `is' in my blood? In my going down unto corruption? Doth dust thank Thee? doth it declare Thy truth?
7And dim from sorrow is mine eye, And my members as a shadow all of them.
18Why `is' this? from the womb I have come out, To see labour and sorrow, Yea, consumed in shame are my days!
21This I turn to my heart -- therefore I hope.
19Casting me into mire, And I am become like dust and ashes.
6Is not thy reverence thy confidence? Thy hope -- the perfection of thy ways?
11My days have passed by, My devices have been broken off, The possessions of my heart!
15Lo, they are saying unto me: `Where `is' the word of Jehovah? pray, let it come.'
15Lo, He doth slay me -- I wait not! Only, my ways unto His face I argue.
7For there is of a tree hope, if it be cut down, That again it doth change, That its tender branch doth not cease.
20And the eyes of the wicked are consumed, And refuge hath perished from them, And their hope `is' a breathing out of soul!
47Remember, I pray Thee, what `is' life-time? Wherefore in vain hast Thou created All the sons of men?
7In the death of a wicked man, hope perisheth, And the expectation of the iniquitous hath been lost.
17Be not Thou to me for a terror, My hope `art' Thou in a day of evil.
15Sackcloth I have sewed on my skin, And have rolled in the dust my horn.
16My face is foul with weeping, And on mine eyelids `is' death-shade.
18My refreshing for me `is' sorrow, For me my heart `is' sick.
3Also -- on this Thou hast opened Thine eyes, And dost bring me into judgment with Thee.
11I said, I do not see Jah -- Jah! In the land of the living, I do not behold man any more, With the inhabitants of the world.
5For Thou `art' my hope, O Lord Jehovah, My trust from my youth.
19Where `is' this -- the way light dwelleth? And darkness, where `is' this -- its place?
19Stones have waters worn away, Their outpourings wash away the dust of earth, And the hope of man Thou hast destroyed.