Job 6:11

Treasury of Scripture Knowledge

What is my strength, that I should hope? and what is mine end, that I should prolong my life?

My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust. My skin closes up, and breaks out afresh.

Aren't my days few? Cease then. Leave me alone, that I may find a little comfort,

Will you harass a driven leaf? Will you pursue the dry stubble?

"My spirit is consumed. My days are extinct, And the grave is ready for me.

Behold, you have made my days handbreadths. My lifetime is as nothing before you. Surely every man stands as a breath." Selah.

You sweep them away as they sleep. In the morning they sprout like new grass.

He weakened my strength along the course. He shortened my days.

For he knows how we are made. He remembers that we are dust.

I said, "In the middle of my life I go into the gates of Sheol. I am deprived of the residue of my years."

I said, My strength is perished, and my expectation from Yahweh.