'Is mortal man than God more righteous? Than his Maker is a man cleaner?

Whom, though I were righteous, I answer not, For my judgment I make supplication.

He doth turn aside from off me his rod, And His terror doth not make me afraid,

Thy hands have taken pains about me, And they make me together round about, And Thou swallowest me up!

Thy devices make men keep silent, Thou scornest, and none is causing blushing!

Yea, thou dost make reverence void, And dost diminish meditation before God.

These ten times ye put me to shame, ye blush not. Ye make yourselves strange to me --

To my servant I have called, And he doth not answer, With my mouth I make supplication to him.

Thou dost make supplication unto Him, And He doth hear thee, And thy vows thou completest.

Between their walls they make oil, Wine-presses they have trodden, and thirst.

And if not now, who doth prove me a liar, And doth make of nothing my word?

To make for the wind a weight, And the waters He meted out in measure.

Who doth make me as in months past, As in the days of God's preserving me?

Did not He that made me in the womb make him? Yea, prepare us in the womb doth One.

For I have not known to give flattering titles, In a little doth my Maker take me away.

And none said, 'Where is God my maker? Giving songs in the night,

I lift up my knowledge from afar, And to my Maker I ascribe righteousness.

Dost thou also make void My judgment? Dost thou condemn Me, That thou mayest be righteous?

Scatter abroad the wrath of thine anger, And see every proud one, and make him low.

He is a beginning of the ways of God, His Maker bringeth nigh his sword;

Doth he make a covenant with thee? Dost thou take him for a servant age-during?