King James VersionIsaiah38

Isaiah

1 In those days was Hezeki­ah sick unto death. And Isa­iah the prophet the son of Amoz came unto him, and said unto him, Thus saith the LORD, Set thine house in or­der: for thou shalt die, and not live. 2 Then Hezeki­ah turned his face to­ward the wall, and prayed unto the LORD, 3 And said, Re­mem­ber now, O LORD, I be­seech thee, how I have walked be­fore thee in truth and with a per­fect heart, and have done that which is good in thy sight. And Hezeki­ah wept sore. 4 Then came the word of the LORD to Isa­iah, say­ing, 5 Go, and say to Hezeki­ah, Thus saith the LORD, the God of David thy fa­ther, I have heard thy prayer, I have seen thy tears: be­hold, I will add unto thy days fif­teen years. 6 And I will de­liv­er thee and this city out of the hand of the king of As­syr­ia: and I will de­fend this city. 7 And this shall be a sign unto thee from the LORD, that the LORD will do this thing that he hath spo­ken; 8 Be­hold, I will bring again the shad­ow of the de­grees, which is gone down in the sun dial of Ahaz, ten de­grees back­ward. So the sun re­turned ten de­grees, by which de­grees it was gone down. 9 The writ­ing of Hezeki­ah king of Ju­dah, when he had been sick, and was re­cov­ered of his sick­ness: 10 I said in the cut­ting off of my days, I shall go to the gates of the grave: I am de­prived of the residue of my years. 11 I said, I shall not see the LORD, even the LORD, in the land of the liv­ing: I shall be­hold man no more with the in­hab­i­tants of the world. 12 Mine age is de­part­ed, and is re­moved from me as a shepherd's tent: I have cut off like a weaver my life: he will cut me off with pin­ing sick­ness: from day even to night wilt thou make an end of me. 13 I reck­oned till morn­ing, that, as a li­on, so will he break all my bones: from day even to night wilt thou make an end of me. 14 Like a crane or a swal­low, so did I chat­ter: I did mourn as a dove: mine eyes fail with looking up­ward: O LORD, I am op­pressed; un­der­take for me. 15 What shall I say? he hath both spo­ken unto me, and him­self hath done it: I shall go soft­ly all my years in the bit­ter­ness of my soul. 16 O Lord, by these things men live, and in all these things is the life of my spir­it: so wilt thou re­cov­er me, and make me to live. 17 Be­hold, for peace I had great bit­ter­ness: but thou hast in love to my soul de­liv­ered it from the pit of cor­rup­tion: for thou hast cast all my sins be­hind thy back. 18 For the grave can­not praise thee, death can not cel­e­brate thee: they that go down into the pit can­not hope for thy truth. 19 The liv­ing, the liv­ing, he shall praise thee, as I do this day: the fa­ther to the chil­dren shall make known thy truth. 20 The LORD was ready to save me: there­fore we will sing my songs to the stringed in­stru­ments all the days of our life in the house of the LORD. 21 For Isa­iah had said, Let them take a lump of figs, and lay it for a plais­ter upon the boil, and he shall re­cov­er. 22 Hezeki­ah also had said, What is the sign that I shall go up to the house of the LORD?