I am a son of eighty years today. Can I distinguish between good and evil? Can your servant taste that which I am eating, and that which I drink? Can I any more listen to the voice of singing men and singing women? And why should your servant be any more as a burden to my lord the king?
The days of our years are seventy years; and if by strength we live eighty years, yet their pride is labor and sorrow; for it soon passes, and we fly away.
For which cause I also suffer these things. But I am not ashamed, for I know whom I have believed, and I am persuaded that He is able to guard my deposit until that Day.