Job 10

Great(i) 1 It greueth my soule to lyue. I wyl make my complaynte, and wyll speake out of the very heuynesse of my soule. 2 I wyll saye vnto God: O do not condempne me, but shewe me the cause, wherfore thou contendest so with me? 3 Thinckest thou it well done, to oppresse me, to cast me of (beynge the worckes of thy handes) and to mainteyne the councel of the vngodly? 4 Hast thou fleshy eyes: or doest thou loke as a man loketh? 5 Or are thy dayes as the dayes of man, and thy yeares as mans yeares? 6 that thou makest soch inquisicyon for my wickednes, & searchest out my synne? 7 where as (not withstandinge) thou knowest that I am no wycked person, and that there is no man able to delyuer me out of thyne hande. 8 Thy handes haue made me, and fasshioned me all together rounde aboute, wilt thou then destroye me sodenly? 9 O remembre (I beseke the) how that thou madest me of the moulde of the erth, & shalt bringe me into dust agayne. 10 Hast thou not turned me, as it were mylck, and turned me to cruddes lyke chese? 11 Thou hast couered me with skynne and fleshe, and ioyned me together with bones and synnewes. 12 Thou hast graunted my life, and done me good: and the diligent hede that thou tokest vpon me, hath preserued my sprete. 13 Thou hast hyd these thynges in thyne hert. I am sure, that thou remembrest thys thynge. 14 If I dyd synne, thou haddest an eye vnto me, and shalt not declare me innocent because of myne offence. 15 Yf I haue done wickedly, wo is me therfore. Yf I haue done righteously, yet darre I not lift vp my hede: so full am I of confusion, and se myne awne misery. 16 Thou huntest me out (being in heuynes) as it were a lyon, & troublest me out of measure. 17 Thou bryngest fresh wytnesse agaynst me, and thy wrath increasest thou vpon me, very many are the plages that I am in. 18 Wherfore hast thou brought me oute of my mothers wombe? O that I had perisshed, and that no eye had sene me. 19 Yf they had caryed me to my graue assone as I was borne, then shuld I be now, as though I had neuer bene 20 Are not my dayes feawe? Lett hym then leaue of fro me and let me alone, that I may ease my selfe a lytle 21 afore I go thyther, from whence I shall not turne agayne: euen to the lande of darcknesse and shadowe of death: 22 yee, into that darck clowdy land and deadly shadowe, where as is no ordre, but terrible feare as in the darcknesse.