14 He breaketh me with breach upon breach; He runneth upon me like a giant.
15 I have sewed sackcloth upon my skin, And have laid my horn in the dust.
16 My face is red with weeping, And on my eyelids is the shadow of death;
17 Although there is no violence in my hands, And my prayer is pure.
18 O earth, cover not thou my blood, And let my cry have no `resting' -place.
Share this page