Is of few days, and full of trouble.

He fleeth also as a shadow, and continueth not.

And bringest me into judgment with thee?

The number of his months is with thee,

And thou hast appointed his bounds that he cannot pass;

Till he shall accomplish, as a hireling, his day.

If it be cut down, that it will sprout again,

And that the tender branch thereof will not cease.

And the stock thereof die in the ground;

And put forth boughs like a plant.

Yea, man giveth up the ghost, and where is he?

And the river wasteth and drieth up;

Till the heavens be no more, they shall not awake,

Nor be roused out of their sleep.

That thou wouldest keep me secret, until thy wrath be past,

That thou wouldest appoint me a set time, and remember me!

All the days of my warfare would I wait,

Till my release should come.

Thou wouldest have a desire to the work of thy hands.

Dost thou not watch over my sin?

And thou fastenest up mine iniquity.

And the rock is removed out of its place;

The overflowings thereof wash away the dust of the earth:

So thou destroyest the hope of man.

Thou changest his countenance, and sendest him away.

And they are brought low, but he perceiveth it not of them.

And his soul within him mourneth.