7 For Thou knowest that I am not wicked, And there is no deliverer from Thy hand.
8 Thy hands have taken pains about me, And they make me together round about, And Thou swallowest me up!
9 Remember, I pray Thee, That as clay Thou hast made me, And unto dust Thou dost bring me back.
10 Dost Thou not as milk pour me out? And as cheese curdle me?
11 Skin and flesh Thou dost put on me, And with bones and sinews dost fence me.
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