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.
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.
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.