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1 Is there not a warfare to man upon earth? And are not his days like the days of a hireling? 2 As a servant that earnestly desireth the shadow, And as a hireling that looketh for his wages: 3 So am I made to possess months of misery, And wearisome nights are appointed to me. 4 When I lie down, I say, When shall I arise, and the night be gone? And I am full of tossings to and fro unto the dawning of the day. 5 My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust; My skin closeth up, and breaketh out afresh. 6 My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, And are spent without hope. 7 Oh remember that my life is a breath: Mine eye shall no more see good. Job 7:1-7, American Standard Version. Public domain.
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