My age is departed, and is removed from me as a shepherd's tent: I have cut off like a weaver my life: he will cut me off from the loom: from day even to night will you make an end of me.
For we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.
For we that are in this tabernacle do groan, being burdened: not that we would be unclothed, but clothed upon, that mortality might be swallowed up of life.
It shall never be inhabited, neither shall it be dwelt in from generation to generation: neither shall the Arabian pitch his tent there; neither shall the shepherds make their sheepfolds there.