The Book of Job

⭑ Geneva Bible :: World English Bible Catholic ⭑

- Chapter 7 -

Job: My suffering is without consolation

Is there not an appointed time to man vpon earth? and are not his dayes as the dayes of an hyreling?

As a seruant longeth for the shadowe, and as an hyreling looketh for the ende of his worke,

So haue I had as an inheritance the moneths of vanitie, and painefull nights haue bene appointed vnto me.

If I layed me downe, I sayde, When shall I arise? and measuring the euening I am euen full with tossing to and from vnto the dawning of the day.

My flesh is clothed with wormes and filthinesse of the dust: my skinne is rent, and become horrible.

My dayes are swifter then a weauers shittle, and they are spent without hope.

Remember that my life is but a wind, and that mine eye shall not returne to see pleasure.

The eye that hath seene me, shall see me no more: thine eyes are vpon me, and I shall be no longer.

As the cloude vanisheth and goeth away, so he that goeth downe to the graue, shall come vp no more.

He shall returne no more to his house, neither shall his place knowe him any more.

Therefore I will not spare my mouth, but will speake in the trouble of my spirite, and muse in the bitternesse of my minde.

Am I a sea or a whalefish, that thou keepest me in warde?

When I say, My couch shall relieue me, and my bed shall bring comfort in my meditation,

Then fearest thou me with dreames, and astonishest me with visions.

Therefore my soule chuseth rather to be strangled and to die, then to be in my bones.

I abhorre it, I shall not liue alway: spare me then, for my dayes are but vanitie.

What is man, that thou doest magnifie him, and that thou settest thine heart vpon him?

And doest visite him euery morning, and tryest him euery moment?

Howe long will it be yer thou depart from me? thou wilt not let me alone whiles I may swallowe my spettle.

I haue sinned, what shall I do vnto thee? O thou preseruer of me, why hast thou set me as a marke against thee, so that I am a burden vnto my selfe?

And why doest thou not pardon my trespasse? and take away mine iniquitie? for nowe shall I sleepe in the dust, and if thou seekest me in the morning, I shall not be found.

Job: My suffering is without consolation

“Isn’t a man forced to labor on earth? Aren’t his days like the days of a hired hand?

As a servant who earnestly desires the shadow, as a hireling who looks for his wages,

so I am made to possess months of misery, wearisome nights are appointed to me.

When I lie down, I say, ‘When will I arise, and the night be gone?’ I toss and turn until the dawning of the day.

My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust. My skin closes up, and breaks out afresh.

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

Oh remember that my life is a breath. My eye will no more see good.

The eye of him who sees me will see me no more. Your eyes will be on me, but I will not be.

As the cloud is consumed and vanishes away, so he who goes down to Sheol

(a)

will come up no more.

He will return no more to his house, neither will his place know him any more.

“Therefore I will not keep silent. I will speak in the anguish of my spirit. I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.

Am I a sea, or a sea monster, that you put a guard over me?

When I say, ‘My bed will comfort me. My couch will ease my complaint,’

then you scare me with dreams and terrify me through visions,

so that my soul chooses strangling, death rather than my bones.

I loathe my life. I don’t want to live forever. Leave me alone, for my days are but a breath.

What is man, that you should magnify him, that you should set your mind on him,

that you should visit him every morning, and test him every moment?

How long will you not look away from me, nor leave me alone until I swallow down my spittle?

If I have sinned, what do I do to you, you watcher of men? Why have you set me as a mark for you, so that I am a burden to myself?

Why do you not pardon my disobedience, and take away my iniquity? For now will I lie down in the dust. You will seek me diligently, but I will not be.”

Footnotes

(a)7:9 Sheol is the place of the dead.