Let him take his rod away from me, And let not his fear terrify me:
Remove thy stroke away from me: I am consumed by the blow of thine hand.
Behold, my terror shall not make thee afraid, Neither shall my hand be heavy upon thee.
Shall not his excellency make you afraid? And his dread fall upon you?
Who knoweth the power of thine anger? Even according to thy fear, so is thy wrath.
At this also my heart trembleth, And is moved out of his place.
For destruction from God was a terror to me, And by reason of his highness I could not endure.
Therefore am I troubled at his presence: When I consider, I am afraid of him.
Then will I visit their transgression with the rod, and their iniquity with stripes.
When thou with rebukes dost correct man for iniquity, Thou makest his beauty to consume away like a moth: Surely every man is vanity. Selah.