📖 Job 17
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1
My breth fayleth, my dayes are shortened, I am harde at deathes dore.
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2
I haue disceaued no man, yet must myne eye cotinue in heuynesse
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3
O delyuer me, and set me by the, who shall then be able to thrust my hondes together?
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4
Thou hast withholde their hertes from vnderstodinge, therfore shall they not be set vp an hye.
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5
He promiseth his fredes parte of his good, but his owne childre spende it.
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6
He hath made me as it were a byworde of the comon people, I am his gestinge stocke amoge the.
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7
My countenaunce is heuy for very anger, & the membres of my body are become like a shadowe.
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8
Vertuous me therfore shall wel cosidre this, and the innocent shal take parte agaynst the Ypocrite.
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9
The rightuous wil kepe his waye, and he yt hath cleane handes, wil euer be stronger & stronger.
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10
As for you, turne you, & get you hence, for I can not se one wyse ma amonge you.
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11
My dayes are past, my thoughtes are vanished awaye, which haue vexed myne herte,
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12
chaunginge the night in to daye, & ye light in to darcknes.
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13
Though I tary neuer so moch, yet the graue is my house, and I must make my bed in the darcke.
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14
I call corrupcion my father, and the wormes call I my mother and my sister.
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15
What helpeth then my longe tarienge? Or, who wil fulfill the thinge, that I loke for?
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16
All that I haue, shall go downe in to the pytt, & lye with me in the dust.