Shall not they teach thee, and tell thee, Can the rush grow up without mire? Whilst it is yet in his greenness, and not cut down, So are the paths of all that forget God; And the hypocrite's hope shall perish: And whose trust shall be a spider's web. He shall lean upon his house, but it shall not stand: He shall hold it fast, but it shall not endure. He is green before the sun, And his branch shooteth forth in his garden. His roots are wrapped about the heap, And seeth the place of stones. If he destroy him from his place, Then it shall deny him, saying, I have not seen thee. Behold, this is the joy of his way, And out of the earth shall others grow. Behold, God will not cast away a perfect man, Neither will he help the evil doers: Till he fill thy mouth with laughing, And thy lips with rejoicing. They that hate thee shall be clothed with shame; And the dwelling place of the wicked shall come to nought. THEN Job answered and said, I Know it is so of a truth: But how should man be just with God? He cannot answer him one of a thousand. He is wise in heart, and mighty in strength: Who hath hardened himself against him, and hath prospered? Which removeth the mountains, and they know not: Which overturneth them in his anger. Which shaketh the earth out of her place, And the pillars thereof tremble. Which commandeth the sun, and it riseth not; Which alone spreadeth out the heavens, Which doeth great things past finding out; The proud helpers do stoop under him. How much less shall I answer him, And choose out my words to reason with him? Whom, though I were righteous, yet would I not answer, But I would make supplication to my judge. If I had called, and he had answered me; Yet would I not believe that he had hearkened unto my voice. For he breaketh me with a tempest, And multiplieth my wounds without cause. If I speak of strength, lo, he is strong: And if of judgment, who shall set me a time to plead? If I justify myself, mine own mouth shall condemn me f I say, I am perfect, it shall also prove me perverse. Though I were perfect, yet would I not know my soul: I would despise my life. This is one thing, therefore I said it, He destroyeth the perfect and the wicked. He will laugh at the trial of the innocent. The earth is given into the hand of the wicked: Now my days are swifter than a post: They flee away, they see no good. They are passed away as the swift ships: If I say, I will forget my complaint, I will leave off my heaviness, and comfort myself: I know that thou wilt not hold me innocent. For he is not a man, as I am, that I should answer him, And we should come together in judgment. Then would I speak, and not fear him; But it is not so with me. My soul is weary of my life; I will leave my com plaint upon myself; I will speak in the bitterness of my soul. That thou shouldest despise the work of thine hands, And shine upon the counsel of the wicked? Hast thou eyes of flesh? Or seest thou as man seeth? Are thy days as the days of man? Are thy years as man's days, That thou enquirest after mine iniquity, And searchest after my sin? Thou knowest that I am not wicked; And there is none that can deliver out of thine hand. Thine hands have made me and fashioned me together round about; Yet thou dost destroy me. Remember, I beseech thee, that thou hast made me as the clay; And wilt thou bring me into dust again? And curdled me like cheese? Thou hast clothed me with skin and flesh, If I sin, then thou markest me, And thou wilt not acquit me from mine iniquity. |