Job 6:11 Cross References - Geneva

¹¹ What power haue I that I should endure? or what is mine end, if I should prolong my life?

⁵ My flesh is clothed with wormes and filthinesse of the dust: my skinne is rent, and become horrible. ⁶ My dayes are swifter then a weauers shittle, and they are spent without hope. ⁷ Remember that my life is but a wind, and that mine eye shall not returne to see pleasure.

²⁰ Are not my dayes fewe? let him cease, and leaue off from me, that I may take a litle comfort,

²⁵ Wilt thou breake a leafe driuen to and from? and wilt thou pursue the drie stubble?

²⁸ Such one consumeth like a rotten thing, and as a garment that is motheaten.

¹ My breath is corrupt: my dayes are cut off, and the graue is readie for me.

¹⁴ I shall say to corruption, Thou art my father, and to the worme, Thou art my mother and my sister. ¹⁵ Where is then now mine hope? or who shall consider the thing, that I hoped for? ¹⁶ They shall goe downe into the bottome of the pit: surely it shall lye together in the dust.

⁴ Doe I direct my talke to man? If it were so, how should not my spirit be troubled?

⁵ Beholde, thou hast made my dayes as an hand breadth, and mine age as nothing in respect of thee: surely euery man in his best state is altogether vanitie. Selah.

⁵ Thou hast ouerflowed them: they are as a sleepe: in the morning he groweth like the grasse: ⁶ In the morning it florisheth and groweth, but in the euening it is cut downe and withereth. ⁷ For we are consumed by thine anger, and by thy wrath are we troubled. ⁸ Thou hast set our iniquities before thee, and our secret sinnes in the light of thy countenance. ⁹ For all our dayes are past in thine anger: we haue spent our yeeres as a thought. ¹⁰ The time of our life is threescore yeeres and ten, and if they be of strength, fourescore yeeres: yet their strength is but labour and sorowe: for it is cut off quickly, and we flee away.

²³ He abated my strength in the way, and shortened my dayes.

¹⁴ For he knoweth whereof we be made: he remembreth that we are but dust. ¹⁵ The dayes of man are as grasse: as a flowre of the fielde, so florisheth he. ¹⁶ For the winde goeth ouer it, and it is gone, and the place thereof shall knowe it no more.