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JOB
- Under the nettles they were gathered together.
- They were children of fools, yea, children of base men:
- They were viler than the earth.
- And now am I their song,
- Yea, I am their byword.
- They abhor me, they flee far from me,
- And spare not to spit in my face.
- Because he hath loosed my cord, and afflicted me,
- They have also let loose the bridle before me.
- Upon my right hand rise the youth; they push away my feet,
- And they raise up against me the ways of their destruction.
- They mar my path, they set forward my calamity, they have no helper.
- They came upon me as a wide breaking in of waters:
- In the desolation they rolled themselves upon me.
- Terrors are turned upon me:
- They pursue my soul as the wind:
- And my welfare passeth away as a cloud.
- And now my soul is poured out upon me;
- The days of affliction have taken hold upon me.
- My bones are pierced in me in the night season:
- And my sinews take no rest.
- By the great force of my disease is my garment changed:
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