Psalm 32:4

Treasury of Scripture Knowledge

For day and night thy hand was heavy upon me: my moisture is turned into the drought of summer. Selah.

Dried as a potsherd, is my strength, And, my tongue, is made to cleave to my gums, And, in the dust of death, wilt thou lay me.

In the morning, it sprouteth and shooteth up, By the evening, it is cut down and withered.

For, consumed in smoke, are my days, And, my bones, like a burning mass, are scorched through;

My skin, turned black, and peeled off me, and, my bones, burned with heat:

Darker than a coal, is their visage, They are not known in the streets - Their skin shrivelleth on their bones, is withered, become like a stick.

Our skin, as with a furnace, is scorched, because of the hot winds of famine.

Happy, they who mourn; for, they, shall be comforted:

If, however, we had been setting, ourselves, apart, we had not, in that case, been coming under judgment;