I reckoned till morning, that, as a lion, so will he break all my bones: From day even to night wilt thou make an end of me. Like a crane or a swallow, so did I chatter: I did mourn as a dove: mine eyes fail with looking upward: O LORD, I am oppressed; undertake for me. What shall I say? he hath both spoken unto me, and himself hath done it: I shall go softly all my years in the bitterness of my soul. O Lord, by these things men live, And in all these things is the life of my spirit: So wilt thou recover me, and make me to live.
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