But, he himself, went into the wilderness a day’s journey, and came and sat down under a certain shrub,—and asked for his life, that he might die, and said—Enough, now, O Yahweh! take away my life, for, no better, am, I, than, my fathers.
Wherefore hath my pain become perpetual? And my wound, incurable? Refuseth to be healed? Wilt thou, indeed be, to me As a brook that disappointeth, Waters that cannot be trusted?