By reason of the voice of my groaning My bones cleave to my flesh.
My bone cleaveth to my skin and to my flesh, And I am escaped with the skin of my teeth.
Their visage is blacker than a coal; they are not known in the streets: Their skin cleaveth to their bones; it is withered, it is become like a stick.
A cheerful heart is a good medicine; But a broken spirit drieth up the bones.
Depart from me, all ye workers of iniquity; For Jehovah hath heard the voice of my weeping.
I am weary with my groaning; Every night make I my bed to swim; I water my couch with my tears.
And as he did so year by year, when she went up to the house of Jehovah, so she provoked her; therefore she wept, and did not eat.
He cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down: He fleeth also as a shadow, and continueth not.
In the morning it flourisheth, and groweth up; In the evening it is cut down, and withereth.