Jó 10

10

My soule is cut off though I liue: I wil leaue my complaint vpon my selfe, & wil speake in the bitternesse of my soule.

2

I will say vnto God, Condemne mee not: shew me, wherefore thou contendest with mee.

3

Thinkest thou it good to oppresse me, and to cast off the labour of thine handes, and to fauour the counsel of the wicked?

4

Hast thou carnall eyes? Or doest thou see as man seeth?

5

Are thy dayes as mans dayes? Or thy yeres, as the time of man,

6

That thou inquirest of mine iniquitie, and searchest out my sinne?

7

Thou knowest that I can not do wickedly: for none can deliuer me out of thine hand.

8

Thine handes haue made me, and fashioned mee wholy rounde about, and wilt thou destroy me?

9

Remeber, I pray thee, that thou hast made me as the clay, and wilt thou bring me into dust againe?

10

Hast thou not powred me out as milke? & turned me to cruds like cheese?

11

Thou hast clothed me with skin and flesh, and ioyned me together with bones and sinewes.

12

Thou hast giuen me life, & grace: & thy visitation hath preserued my spirit.

13

Though thou hast hid these things in thine heart, yet I knowe that it is so with thee.

14

If I haue sinned, then thou wilt streightly looke vnto me, and wilt not holde mee giltlesse of mine iniquitie.

15

If I haue done wickedly, wo vnto me: if I haue done righteously, I will not lift vp mine head, being full of confusion, because I see mine affliction.

16

But let it increase: hunt thou me as a lyon: returne and shew thy selfe marueilous vpon me.

17

Thou renuest thy plagues against me, and thou increasest thy wrath against me: changes and armies of sorowes are against me.

18

Wherfore then hast thou brought me out of the wombe? Oh that I had perished, and that none eye had seene me!

19

And that I were as I had not bene, but brought from the wombe to the graue!

20

Are not my dayes fewe? let him cease, and leaue off from me, that I may take a litle comfort,

21

Before I goe and shall not returne, euen to the land of darkenesse and shadow of death:

22

Into a land, I say, darke as darknes it selfe, and into the shadow of death, where is none order, but the light is there as darkenesse.