Job 17:1

My spirit is broken, my days are ended, the graves are ready for me.

What is my strength, that I should hope? And what is my end, that I should be patient?

If I wait for the grave as my home, I have made my bed in the darkness;

My breath is hated by my wife, and I must beg to the sons of my mother's womb.

After this Job lived a hundred and forty years, and he saw his sons, and his sons' sons, four generations.

For my soul is full of troubles, and my life draws near the grave.

I said in the cutting off of my days, I shall go to the gates of the grave; I have numbered the rest of my years.

For I will not contend forever, nor will I be always angry; for the spirit should fail before Me, and the souls I have made.

Treasury of Scripture Knowledge

My breath is corrupt, my days are extinct, the graves are ready for me.

My breath is hated by my wife, and I must beg to the sons of my mother's womb.

What is my strength, that I should hope? And what is my end, that I should be patient?

After this Job lived a hundred and forty years, and he saw his sons, and his sons' sons, four generations.

For I will not contend forever, nor will I be always angry; for the spirit should fail before Me, and the souls I have made.

If I wait for the grave as my home, I have made my bed in the darkness;

For my soul is full of troubles, and my life draws near the grave.

I said in the cutting off of my days, I shall go to the gates of the grave; I have numbered the rest of my years.