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?

Clothed hath been my flesh with worms, And a clod of dust, My skin hath been shrivelled and is loathsome,

Are not my days few? Cease then, and put from me, And I brighten up a little,

A leaf driven away dost Thou terrify? And the dry stubble dost Thou pursue?

My spirit hath been destroyed, My days extinguished -- graves are for me.

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

Thou hast inundated them, they are asleep, In the morning as grass he changeth.

He hath humbled in the way my power, He hath shortened my days.

For He hath known our frame, Remembering that we are dust.

I -- I said in the cutting off of my days, I go in to the gates of Sheol, I have numbered the remnant of mine years.

And I say, Perished hath my strength and my hope from Jehovah.