Book of Job - Ferrar Fenton Bible Translation page 835
The Psalms, Solomon and Sacred Writers
16-8
17-:6]OB.My wrinkles are telling my tale;Liars rise, and insult to my face,Against me they gnash with their teeth;And torturers Hama with their eyes,And your mouths belch upon me reproach,Slap my cheek, and against me unite ;For GOD has delivered to the bad,Flung me to the hands of the vile!I was happy! But now I am crushed.He has seized on my neck, and has shook,Aud has set as a mark for His darts,My breast by His archers is pierced,My gall poured unjustly on earth,And He breaks me with breach upon breach,-··As when a fierce warrior assailslI have covered my skin with a sack;And my honour is rolled in the dust,My features are swollen with tears;My eyelids are shadows of death lTho' no wrong has been found in my hand;And for purity always I prayed EPut no covering, Earth, on my blood IAnd let not my shrieks be concealed!My witness I see in the skies,And my evidence is in the heights.Friends jeer ;———but to Gon my eye weeps,That a mortal might plead before Gob,As a son of mankind for his friend!When my number of years has arrived,I shall walk on the unturning path !My spirit is writhing in painMy days iiying fast to the gravelAltho' my deriders withstand,As an obstacle fixed in my sight!Oh l fix now my bail for Yourself;But who will give bond on my part?For You take common sense from their hearts,And so You rely not on them,To decide on the fate of their friend,So the sight of their children shall fail.I am placed as a proverb to men,And become a contempt in their sight!So with sadness my eyes are oppressed,And my form is consumed to a. shade.The upright may wonder at this;And the clean from pollution be roused;But the righteous will hold on his way,And the pure—handed add to his strength.But all you,—turn round, and be off!For wisdom I find not in you!My days fly l My purposes fail'!The cherished ideas of my heart,Can they change the night into day,By light that proceeds from the dark,When I measure my home in the grave,And in darkness I spread out my bed?When I call to my father, Corruption,You, my Mother and Sister, the Worm?But if so, then where is my hope?And my hop:. who can ever beholdWhen gone down with my frame to the graveIf together we rest in the dust?835I0I!I2x6IS202I2217IOI!K216
