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Chapter
Verse
Job - ch 30 v 21 - 31
- Thou art turned to be cruel to me; With the might of thy hand thou persecutest me.
- Thou liftest me up to the wind, thou causest me to ride `upon it'; And thou dissolvest me in the storm.
- For I know that thou wilt bring me to death, And to the house appointed for all living.
- Howbeit doth not one stretch out the hand in his fall? Or in his calamity therefore cry for help?
- Did not I weep for him that was in trouble? Was not my soul grieved for the needy?
- When I looked for good, then evil came; And when I waited for light, there came darkness.
- My heart is troubled, and resteth not; Days of affliction are come upon me.
- I go mourning without the sun: I stand up in the assembly, and cry for help.
- I am a brother to jackals, And a companion to ostriches.
- My skin is black, `and falleth' from me, And my bones are burned with heat.
- Therefore is my harp `turned' to mourning, And my pipe into the voice of them that weep.
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