Job 17:1

American Standard Version 2015

My spirit is consumed, my days are extinct,\par\tab The grave is {\i ready} for me.

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For I will not contend for ever, neither will I be always wroth; for the spirit would faint before me, and the souls that I have made.

And after this Job lived a hundred and forty years, and saw his sons, and his sons' sons, {\i even} four generations.

My breath is strange to my wife,\par\tab And my supplication to the children of mine own mother.

What is my strength, that I should wait?\par\tab And what is mine end, that I should be patient?

My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle,\par\tab And are spent without hope.

For when a few years are come,\par\tab I shall go the way whence I shall not return.\par

My days are past, my purposes are broken off,\par\tab Even the thoughts of my heart.