¹ My spirit is consumed, my days are extinct, The grave is `ready' for me.

³ For my soul is full of troubles, And my life draweth nigh unto Sheol.

⁴ I am reckoned with them that go down into the pit; I am as a man that hath no help,

⁵ Cast off among the dead, Like the slain that lie in the grave, Whom thou rememberest no more, And they are cut off from thy hand.

¹⁰ I said, In the noontide of my days I shall go into the gates of Sheol: I am deprived of the residue of my years.

¹¹ I said, I shall not see Jehovah, `even' Jehovah in the land of the living: I shall behold man no more with the inhabitants of the world.

¹² My dwelling is removed, and is carried away from me as a shepherd's tent: I have rolled up, like a weaver, my life; he will cut me off from the loom: From day even to night wilt thou make an end of me.

¹³ I quieted `myself' until morning; as a lion, so he breaketh all my bones: From day even to night wilt thou make an end of me.

¹⁴ Like a swallow `or' a crane, so did I chatter; I did moan as a dove; mine eyes fail `with looking' upward: O Lord, I am oppressed, be thou my surety.

¹¹ What is my strength, that I should wait? And what is mine end, that I should be patient?

¹³ If I look for Sheol as my house; If I have spread my couch in the darkness;

¹⁴ If I have said to corruption, Thou art my father; To the worm, `Thou art' my mother, and my sister;

¹⁷ My breath is strange to my wife, And my supplication to the children of mine own mother.

¹⁶ And after this Job lived a hundred and forty years, and saw his sons, and his sons' sons, `even' four generations.

¹⁶ For I will not contend for ever, neither will I be always wroth; for the spirit would faint before me, and the souls that I have made.