Why did death not take me when I came out of my mother's body, why did I not, when I came out, give up my last breath?

Who are glad with great joy, and full of delight when they come to their last resting-place;

You will come to your last resting-place in full strength, as the grain is taken up to the crushing-floor in its time.

“He trusts in his house, but it does not stand;
He holds tightly to it, but it does not endure.

Why then did you make me come out of my mother's body? It would have been better for me to have taken my last breath, and for no eye to have seen me,

And for me to have been as if I had not been; to have been taken from my mother's body straight to my last resting-place.

But [the] eyes of [the] wicked will fail; and refuge will be lost to them, and their hope [is] {to breathe their last breath}."

Who is it that shall contend with me? For, now, if I should hold my peace, why! I should breathe my last!

Like a flower he comes up, and he withers away; and he flees like a shadow, but he does not last.

“But [the brave, strong] man must die and lie face down;
Man breathes his last, and where is he?

So man goes down to his last resting-place and comes not again: till the heavens come to an end, they will not be awake or come out of their sleep.

The mountains fall away at the last, the rocks are removed out of their place;

He will not become rich, nor will his wealth endure;
And his grain will not bend to the earth nor his possessions be extended on the earth.

My spirit is broken, my days are ended, the last resting-place is ready for me.

But as for me I know that my Redeemer liveth, And at last he will stand up upon the earth:

yet he perisheth at the last, like dung. Insomuch that they which have seen him, say, 'Where is he?'

Nothing is left for him to consume;
therefore, his prosperity will not last.

He is taken to his last resting-place, and keeps watch over it.

Far be it from me! that I should justify, you, - Even until I breathe my last, will I not let go mine integrity from me:

“He builds his house like a spider’s web,
Like a (temporary) hut which a watchman makes.

He goes to rest full of wealth, but does so for the last time: on opening his eyes, he sees it there no longer.

If I have eaten its fruits without paying for them,
Or have caused its [rightful] owners to lose their lives,

But, if they would not hearken, by a weapon, should they pass away, and breathe their last, no one knowing.

For the time she will lash herself up upon height, she will laugh at the horse and at his rider.