And be it still my consolation, Yea, let me exult in pain that spareth not, That I have not denied the words of the Holy One.

But his flesh upon him hath pain, And his soul within him mourneth.

The wicked man travaileth with pain all his days, Even the number of years that are laid up for the oppressor.

He is chastened also with pain upon his bed, And with continual strife in his bones;