King James Version › Job › 19

Job

• 1
• 2
• 3
• 4
• 5
• 6
• 7
• 8
• 9
• 10
• 11
• 12
• 13
• 14
• 15
• 16
• 17
• 18
• 19
• 20
• 21
• 22
• 23
• 24
• 25
• 26
• 27
• 28
• 29
• 30
• 31
• 32
• 33
• 34
• 35
• 36
• 37
• 38
• 39
• 40
• 41
• 42

1 Then Job an­swered and said, 2 How long will ye vex my soul, and break me in pieces with words? 3 These ten times have ye re­proached me: ye are not ashamed that ye make your­selves strange to me. 4 And be it in­deed that I have erred, mine er­ror re­maineth with my­self. 5 If in­deed ye will mag­ni­fy yourselves against me, and plead against me my re­proach: 6 Know now that God hath over­thrown me, and hath com­passed me with his net. 7 Be­hold, I cry out of wrong, but I am not heard: I cry aloud, but there is no judg­ment. 8 He hath fenced up my way that I can­not pass, and he hath set dark­ness in my paths. 9 He hath stripped me of my glo­ry, and tak­en the crown from my head. 10 He hath de­stroyed me on ev­ery side, and I am gone: and mine hope hath he re­moved like a tree. 11 He hath also kin­dled his wrath against me, and he coun­teth me unto him as one of his en­e­mies. 12 His troops come to­geth­er, and raise up their way against me, and en­camp round about my taber­na­cle. 13 He hath put my brethren far from me, and mine ac­quain­tance are ver­i­ly es­tranged from me. 14 My kins­folk have failed, and my fa­mil­iar friends have for­got­ten me. 15 They that dwell in mine house, and my maids, count me for a stranger: I am an alien in their sight. 16 I called my ser­vant, and he gave me no an­swer; I in­treat­ed him with my mouth. 17 My breath is strange to my wife, though I in­treat­ed for the children's sake of mine own body. 18 Yea, young chil­dren de­spised me; I arose, and they spake against me. 19 All my in­ward friends ab­horred me: and they whom I loved are turned against me. 20 My bone cleaveth to my skin and to my flesh, and I am es­caped with the skin of my teeth. 21 Have pity upon me, have pity upon me, O ye my friends; for the hand of God hath touched me. 22 Why do ye per­se­cute me as God, and are not sat­is­fied with my flesh? 23 Oh that my words were now writ­ten! oh that they were print­ed in a book! 24 That they were graven with an iron pen and lead in the rock for ev­er! 25 For I know that my re­deemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the lat­ter day upon the earth: 26 And though af­ter my skin worms de­stroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God: 27 Whom I shall see for my­self, and mine eyes shall be­hold, and not an­oth­er; though my reins be con­sumed with­in me. 28 But ye should say, Why per­se­cute we him, see­ing the root of the mat­ter is found in me? 29 Be ye afraid of the sword: for wrath bringeth the pun­ish­ments of the sword, that ye may know there is a judg­ment.