Their visage is blacker than a coal; they are not known in the streets:\par\tab Their skin cleaveth to their bones; it is withered, it is become like a stick.
From on high hath he sent fire into my bones, and it prevaileth against them;\par\tab He hath spread a net for my feet, he hath turned me back:\par\tab He hath made me desolate and faint all the day.
I heard, and my body trembled,\par\tab My lips quivered at the voice;\par\tab Rottenness entereth into my bones, and I tremble in my place;\par\tab Because I must wait quietly for the day of trouble,\par\tab For the coming up of the people that invadeth us.