Job 10:20

Treasury of Scripture Knowledge

Are not my days few? cease then, and let me alone, that I may take comfort a little,

My days swifter than a weaving machine, And they are consumed without hope.

(For of yesterday we are, and we know not, For a shadow are our days on earth.)

My days have been swifter than a runner, They have fled, they have not seen good,

Man, born of woman! Of few days, and full of trouble!

Lo, handbreadths Thou hast made my days, And mine age is as nothing before Thee, Only, all vanity is every man set up. Selah.

Mortal man! as grass are his days, As a flower of the field so he flourisheth;

What is man that Thou dost magnify him? And that Thou settest unto him Thy heart?

Thy hand put far off from me, And Thy terror let not terrify me.

Look from me, and I brighten up before I go and am not!