Job 14

Man, that is born of a woman,

He cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down:

And dost thou open thine eyes upon such a one,

Who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean? not one.

Seeing his days are determined,

Look away from him, that he may rest,

For there is hope of a tree,

Though the root thereof wax old in the earth,

Yet through the scent of water it will bud,

But man dieth, and is laid low:

As the waters fail from the sea,

So man lieth down and riseth not:

Oh that thou wouldest hide me in Sheol,

If a man die, shall he live again?

Thou wouldest call, and I would answer thee:

But now thou numberest my steps:

My transgression is sealed up in a bag,

But the mountain falling cometh to nought;

The waters wear the stones;

Thou prevailest for ever against him, and he passeth;

His sons come to honor, and he knoweth it not;

But his flesh upon him hath pain,