Job 7:1-7 ▼

1 Is there not a time of service to man upon earth? And are not his days like the days of a hireling?

2 As a servant that eagerly longeth for the shadow, And as a hireling that looketh for his wages;

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

4 When I lie down, I say: 'When shall I arise?' But the night is long, 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 O remember that my life is a breath; Mine eye shall no more see good.