7 Lo, let that night be barren; Let no joyful voice come therein.
8 Let them curse it that curse the day, Who are ready to rouse up leviathan.
9 Let the stars of the twilight thereof be dark: Let it look for light, but have none; Neither let it behold the eyelids of the morning:
10 Because it shut not up the doors of my 'mother's' womb, Nor hid trouble from mine eyes.
11 Why died I not from the womb? Why did I not give up the ghost when my mother bare me?
Share this page