Job Decries His Comforters 1Iob aunswered, & saide: 2I haue oft times heard such thinges: miserable geuers of comfort are ye all the sort of you. 3Shall not vaine wordes come yet to an ende? Or what maketh thee bolde so to aunswere? 4I coulde speake as ye do also: but would God that your soule were in my soules steade, then could I frame wordes for you, and shake my head at you: 5I shoulde comfort you with my mouth, & releasse your paine with the talking of my lippes. 6For all my wordes my sorowe wyll not ceasse: And though I holde my tongue, what am I eased?
7But now that
8And that thou hast filled me with wrinckles my fleshe is recorde, and my leanenesse ryseth vp against me and beareth witnes thereof in my face.
9His wrath hath torne
10They haue opened their mouthes wide vpon me, and smitten me vpon the cheeke dispitefully, they gather the selues together against me.
11God hath shut me vp with the vngodly, and deliuered me into the handes of the wicked.
12I was in wealth, but he hath brought me to nought: he hath taken me by the necke, he hath all to shaken me, and set me as a marke for him selfe.
13His archers compasse me rounde about, he woundeth my raines, and doth not spare, my bowels hath he powred vpon the grounde.
14He hath geuen me one wounde vpon an other, and is fallen vpon me lyke a giaunt.
15I haue sowed a sackecloth vpon my skinne, and wallowed my head in the dust.
16My face is withered with weeping, & in mine eyes is the shadowe of death.
17Howbeit there is no wickednesse in my handes, but my prayer is cleane.
18O earth couer not thou my blood, and let my crying finde no roome.
19For lo, my witnesse is in heauen, and he that knoweth me, is in the height.
20My friendes geue me many wordes to scorne, and myne eye powreth out teares vnto God.
21O that a body might pleate with God, as one man doth with an other:
22Yet the number of my yeres is come, and the way that I must go is at hand, from whence I shall not turne againe. |
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