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Job 7
Is
there
not
an
a
appointed
time
to
man
upon
earth?
are
not
his
days
also
like
the
days
of
an
b
hireling?
2 As
a
servant
earnestly
desireth
the
shadow,
and
as
an
hireling
looketh
for
the
reward
of
his
work:
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,
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
is
broken,
and
become
loathsome.
6 My
a
days
are
swifter
than
a
weaver's
shuttle,
and
are
spent
without
hope.
7 O
remember
that
my
life
is
wind:
mine
eye
shall
no
more
see
good.
8 The
eye
of
him
that
hath
seen
me
shall
see
me
no
more:
thine
eyes
are
upon
me,
and
I
am
not.
9 As
the
cloud
is
consumed
and
vanisheth
away:
so
he
that
goeth
down
to
the
grave
shall
come
up
no
more.
10 He
shall
return
no
more
to
his
house,
neither
shall
his
place
know
him
any
more.
11 Therefore
I
will
not
a
refrain
my
mouth;
I
will
speak
in
the
anguish
of
my
spirit;
I
will
b
complain
in
the
bitterness
of
my
soul.
12 Am
I
a
sea,
or
a
whale,
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:
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