Job 6:8
O that my request may come, That God may grant my hope!
O that my request may come, That God may grant my hope!
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9 That God would please -- and bruise me, Loose His hand and cut me off!
10 And yet it is my comfort, (And I exult in pain -- He doth not spare,) That I have not hidden The sayings of the Holy One.
11 What `is' my power that I should hope? And what mine end That I should prolong my life?
35 Who giveth to me a hearing? lo, my mark. The Mighty One doth answer me, And a bill hath mine adversary written.
36 If not -- on my shoulder I take it up, I bind it a crown on myself.
3 O that I had known -- and I find Him, I come in unto His seat,
4 I arrange before Him the cause, And my mouth fill `with' arguments.
5 I know the words He doth answer me, And understand what He saith to me.
6 In the abundance of power doth He strive with me? No! surely He putteth `it' in me.
7 There the upright doth reason with Him, And I escape for ever from my judge.
23 Who doth grant now, That my words may be written? Who doth grant that in a book they may be graven?
2 O that my provocation were thoroughly weighed, And my calamity in balances They would lift up together!
3 For now, than the sands of the sea it is heavier, Therefore my words have been rash.
4 For arrows of the Mighty `are' with me, Whose poison is drinking up my spirit. Terrors of God array themselves `for' me!
7 My soul is refusing to touch! They `are' as my sickening food.
9 Lord, before Thee `is' all my desire, And my sighing from Thee hath not been hid.
21 And he reasoneth for a man with God, And a son of man for his friend.
18 My refreshing for me `is' sorrow, For me my heart `is' sick.
13 O that in Sheol Thou wouldst conceal me, Hide me till the turning of Thine anger, Set for me a limit, and remember me.
8 Yet I -- I inquire for God, And for God I give my word,
20 Are not my days few? Cease then, and put from me, And I brighten up a little,
2 Who doth make me as `in' months past, As `in' the days of God's preserving me?
7 Two things I have asked from Thee, Withhold not from me before I die.
6 And I say, `Who doth give to me a pinion as a dove? I fly away and rest,
15 And my soul chooseth strangling, Death rather than my bones.
16 I have wasted away -- not to the age do I live. Cease from me, for my days `are' vanity.
5 And yet, O that God had spoken! And doth open His lips with thee.
36 My Father! let Job be tried -- unto victory, Because of answers for men of iniquity,
13 Look from me, and I brighten up before I go and am not!
22 Come in doth all their evil before Thee, And one is doing to them as Thou hast done to me, For all my transgressions, For many `are' my sighs, and my heart `is' sick!
6 If I speak, my pain is not restrained, And I cease -- what goeth from me?
21 Pity me, pity me, ye my friends, For the hand of God hath stricken against me.
3 And now, O Jehovah, take, I pray Thee, my soul from me, for better `is' my death than my life.'
13 Is not my help with me, And substance driven from me?
5 O that my ways were prepared to keep Thy statutes,
3 Yet I for the Mighty One do speak, And to argue for God I delight.
24 For before my food, my sighing cometh, And poured out as waters `are' my roarings.
8 Unto Thee, O Jehovah, I call, And unto Jehovah I make supplication.
1 Who doth make my head waters, And mine eye a fountain of tears? And I weep by day and by night, For the wounded of the daughter of my people.
22 My shoulder from its blade let fall, And mine arm from the bone be broken.
8 Also when I call and cry out, He hath shut out my prayer.
2 Favour me, O Jehovah, for I `am' weak, Heal me, O Jehovah, For troubled have been my bones,
3 And my soul hath been troubled greatly, And Thou, O Jehovah, till when?
18 And why from the womb Hast Thou brought me forth? I expire, and the eye doth not see me.
1 My spirit hath been destroyed, My days extinguished -- graves `are' for me.
20 Broken hath my soul for desire Unto Thy judgments at all times.
6 I -- I called Thee, for Thou dost answer me, O God, incline Thine ear to me, hear my speech.
17 For I am ready to halt, And my pain `is' before me continually.
19 Casting me into mire, And I am become like dust and ashes.
9 Favour me, O Jehovah, for distress `is' to me, Mine eye, my soul, and my body Have become old by provocation.