Job 7:1-18 ▼

1 Hath not man a life of labour upon earth? and are not his days like the days of a hireling?

2 As a bondman earnestly desireth the shadow, and a hireling expecteth his wages,

3 So am I made to possess months of vanity, and wearisome nights are appointed to me.

4 If I lie down, I say, When shall I rise up, and the darkness be gone? and I am full of tossings until the dawn.

5 My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust; my skin is broken, and suppurates.

6 My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent without hope.

7 Remember thou that my life is wind; mine eye shall no more see good.

8 The eye of him that hath seen me shall behold me no [more]: thine eyes are upon me, and I am not.

9 The cloud consumeth and vanisheth away; so he that goeth down to Sheol shall not come up.

10 He shall return no more to his house, neither shall his place know him again.

11 Therefore I will not restrain my mouth: I will speak in the anguish of my spirit; I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.

12 Am I a sea, or a sea-monster, that thou settest a watch over me?

13 When I say, My bed shall comfort me, my couch shall ease my complaint;

14 Then thou scarest me with dreams, and terrifiest me through visions;

15 So that my soul chooseth strangling, death, rather than my bones.

16 I loathe it; I shall not live always: let me alone, for my days are a breath.

17 What is man, that thou makest much of him? and that thou settest thy heart upon him?

18 And that thou visitest him every morning, triest him every moment?