Study Desk

My soul doth loathe my life, - I let loose my complaint, I speak, in the bitterness of my soul.

I say unto GOD, Do not hold me guilty, Let me know, on what account thou contendest with me!

Is it seemly in thee, that thou shouldst oppress? that thou shouldst despise the labour of thine own hand, when, upon the counsel of the lawless, thou hast shone?

Eyes of flesh, hast thou? or, as a mortal seeth, seest thou?

As the days of a mortal, are thy days? or, thy years, as the days of a man?

That thou shouldst seek for mine iniquity, and, for my sin, shouldst make search:

Though it is, within thine own knowledge, that I would not be lawless, and, none, out of thy hand, can deliver?