14 He breaketh me with breach upon breach, he runneth upon me like a giant.
15 I have sewed sackcloth upon my skin, and defiled my horn in the dust.
16 My face is foul with weeping, and on my eyelids [are] the shades of death;
17 Not for [any] injustice in my hands: also my prayer [is] pure.
18 O earth, cover not thou my blood, and let my cry have no place.