For my loins are filled with burning; And there is no soundness in my flesh.
And immediately an angel of the Lord smote him, because he gave not God the glory: and he was eaten of worms, and gave up the ghost.
For my days consume away like smoke, And my bones are burned as a firebrand.
An evil disease, say they, cleaveth fast unto him; And now that he lieth he shall rise up no more.
My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust; My skin closeth up, and breaketh out afresh.
By God’s great force is my garment disfigured; It bindeth me about as the collar of my coat.
And I said unto the king, Let the king live for ever: why should not my countenance be sad, when the city, the place of my fathers’ sepulchres, lieth waste, and the gates thereof are consumed with fire?