King James Version › Job › 6

Job

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1 But Job an­swered and said, 2 Oh that my grief were through­ly weighed, and my calami­ty laid in the bal­ances to­geth­er! 3 For now it would be heav­ier than the sand of the sea: there­fore my words are swal­lowed up. 4 For the ar­rows of the Almighty are with­in me, the poi­son where­of drin­keth up my spir­it: the ter­rors of God do set them­selves in ar­ray against me. 5 Doth the wild ass bray when he hath grass? or loweth the ox over his fod­der? 6 Can that which is un­savoury be eat­en with­out salt? or is there any taste in the white of an egg? 7 The things that my soul re­fused to touch are as my sor­row­ful meat. 8 Oh that I might have my re­quest; and that God would grant me the thing that I long for! 9 Even that it would please God to de­stroy me; that he would let loose his hand, and cut me off! 10 Then should I yet have com­fort; yea, I would hard­en my­self in sor­row: let him not spare; for I have not con­cealed the words of the Holy One. 11 What is my strength, that I should hope? and what is mine end, that I should pro­long my life? 12 Is my strength the strength of stones? or is my flesh of brass? 13 Is not my help in me? and is wis­dom driv­en quite from me? 14 To him that is af­flict­ed pity should be shewed from his friend; but he for­saketh the fear of the Almighty. 15 My brethren have dealt de­ceit­ful­ly as a brook, and as the stream of brooks they pass away; 16 Which are black­ish by rea­son of the ice, and where­in the snow is hid: 17 What time they wax warm, they van­ish: when it is hot, they are con­sumed out of their place. 18 The paths of their way are turned aside; they go to noth­ing, and per­ish. 19 The troops of Tema looked, the com­pa­nies of She­ba wait­ed for them. 20 They were con­found­ed be­cause they had hoped; they came thith­er, and were ashamed. 21 For now ye are noth­ing; ye see my cast­ing down, and are afraid. 22 Did I say, Bring unto me? or, Give a re­ward for me of your sub­stance? 23 Or, De­liv­er me from the enemy's hand? or, Re­deem me from the hand of the mighty? 24 Teach me, and I will hold my tongue: and cause me to un­der­stand where­in I have erred. 25 How forcible are right words! but what doth your ar­gu­ing re­prove? 26 Do ye imag­ine to re­prove words, and the speech­es of one that is des­per­ate, which are as wind? 27 Yea, ye over­whelm the fa­ther­less, and ye dig a pit for your friend. 28 Now there­fore be con­tent, look upon me; for it is ev­i­dent unto you if I lie. 29 Re­turn, I pray you, let it not be in­iq­ui­ty; yea, re­turn again, my righ­teous­ness is in it. 30 Is there in­iq­ui­ty in my tongue? can­not my taste dis­cern per­verse things?