“Very well,” the Lord told Satan, “everything he owns is in your power. However, you must not lay a hand on Job himself.” So Satan left the Lord’s presence.

Does a wild donkey bray over fresh grass
or an ox low over its fodder?

But now, please look at me;
would I lie to your face?

When I lie down I think:
When will I get up?
But the evening drags on endlessly,
and I toss and turn until dawn.

Why not forgive my sin
and pardon my transgression?
For soon I will lie down in the grave.
You will eagerly seek me, but I will be gone.

If I wash myself with snow,
and cleanse my hands with lye,

There is no one to judge between us,
to lay his hand on both of us.

You will be confident, because there is hope.
You will look carefully about and lie down in safety.

You will lie down without fear,
and many will seek your favor.

His bones may be full of youthful vigor,
but will lie down with him in the grave.

But they both lie in the dust,
and worms cover them.

They are exalted for a moment, then they are gone;
they are brought low and shrivel up like everything else.
They wither like heads of grain.

Would I lie about my case?
My wound is incurable,
though I am without transgression.”

when they crouch in their dens
and lie in wait within their lairs?

Its brood gulps down blood,
and where the slain are, it is there.

Lay a hand on him.
You will remember the battle
and never repeat it!