For by thine anger we're consum'd, thy wrath makes us afraid.
When with rebukes thou dost correct man for iniquity, Thou wastes his beauty like a moth: sure each man's vanity.
Who knows the power of thy wrath? according to thy fear
For in thine anger all our days do pass on to an end; And as a tale that hath been told, so we our years do spend.
In wrath consume them, them consume, that so they may not be: And that in Jacob God doth rule to th' earth's ends let them see.
Wherefore their days in vanity he did consume and waste; And by his wrath their wretched years away in trouble past.