I am now eighty years old. Can I discern what is pleasant from what is harmful? Can your servant taste what I eat and what I drink? Can I still hear the voices of men and women who sing? Why, then, should your servant be a burden to my lord the king?
The years of our life are seventy, or even, by reason of strength, eighty; yet their span is but toil and sorrow; they soon pass away, and we fly away.
And even to your old age I am He, and even to your graying years I will carry you; I have done it, and I will bear you; I will carry, and will deliver you.
For these things I suffer, but I am not ashamed, for I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed to Him until that Day.