²⁰ Are not my days few? cease then, And let me alone, that I may take comfort a little,

¹ Man, that is born of a woman, Is of few days, and full of trouble.

¹³ Oh spare me, that I may recover strength, Before I go hence, and be no more. Psalm 40 For the Chief Musician. A Psalm of David.

⁶ My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, And are spent without hope.

⁷ Oh remember that my life is a breath: Mine eye shall no more see good.

¹⁶ I loathe `my life'; I would not live alway: Let me alone; for my days are vanity.

¹⁷ What is man, that thou shouldest magnify him, And that thou shouldest set thy mind upon him,

¹⁸ And that thou shouldest visit him every morning, And try him every moment?

¹⁹ How long wilt thou not look away from me, Nor let me alone till I swallow down my spittle?

²⁰ If I have sinned, what do I unto thee, O thou watcher of men? Why hast thou set me as a mark for thee, So that I am a burden to myself?

²¹ And why dost thou not pardon my transgression, and take away mine iniquity? For now shall I lie down in the dust; And thou wilt seek me diligently, but I shall not be.

⁹ (For we are but of yesterday, and know nothing, Because our days upon earth are a shadow);

²⁵ Now my days are swifter than a post: They flee away, they see no good,

²⁶ They are passed away as the swift ships; As the eagle that swoopeth on the prey.

²¹ Withdraw thy hand far from me; And let not thy terror make me afraid.

⁵ Behold, thou hast made my days `as' handbreadths; And my life-time is as nothing before thee: Surely every man at his best estate is altogether vanity. Selah

¹⁵ As for man, his days are as grass; As a flower of the field, so he flourisheth.

¹⁶ For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone; And the place thereof shall know it no more.