17 For he breaketh me with a tempest, And multiplieth my wounds without cause.
18 He will not suffer me to take my breath, But filleth me with bitterness.
19 If 'we speak' of strength, lo, 'he is' mighty! And if of justice, Who, 'saith he', will summon me?
20 Though I be righteous, mine own mouth shall condemn me: Though I be perfect, it shall prove me perverse.
21 I am perfect; I regard not myself; I despise my life.
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