Psalms 88:15 Cross References - Coverdale

¹⁵ My strength is gone for very sorow and misery, with fearfulnesse do I beare thy burthens.

⁴ For the allmighty hath shott at me with his arowes, whose indignacion hath droncke vp my sprete, and ye terrible feares of God fight agaysnt me.

¹¹ Therfore I will not spare my mouth, but will speake in the trouble of my sprete, in ye bytternesse of my mynde will I talke. ¹² Am I a see or a whalfysh, that thou kepest me so in preson? ¹³ When I thynke: my bedd shall comforte me, I shall haue some refresshinge by talkynge with myself vpon my couche: ¹⁴ The troublest thou me with dreames, ad makest me so afrayed thorow visions, ¹⁵ that my soule wyssheth rather to be hanged, and my bones to be deed. ¹⁶ I can se no remedy, I shall lyue nomore: O spare me then, for my dayes are but vayne

¹ My breth fayleth, my dayes are shortened, I am harde at deathes dore.

¹¹ My dayes are past, my thoughtes are vanished awaye, which haue vexed myne herte, ¹² chaunginge the night in to daye, & ye light in to darcknes. ¹³ Though I tary neuer so moch, yet the graue is my house, and I must make my bed in the darcke. ¹⁴ I call corrupcion my father, and the wormes call I my mother and my sister. ¹⁵ What helpeth then my longe tarienge? Or, who wil fulfill the thinge, that I loke for? ¹⁶ All that I haue, shall go downe in to the pytt, & lye with me in the dust.

¹⁴ I am poured out like water, all my bones are out of ioynt: my hert in the myddest off my body is euen like meltinge waxe. ¹⁵ My strength is dried vp like a potsherde, my tunge cleueth to my goomes, and thou hast brought me in to the dust of death.

¹⁴ Wherfore shulde I be then punyshed daylie, & be chastened euery mornynge?

³ He shalbe the most symple & despised of all, which yet hath good experience of sorowes & infirmities. We shal reken him so symple & so vyle, that we shal hyde oure faces fro him.

¹⁰ Yet hath it pleased ye LORDE to smyte him with infirmite, that when he had made his soule an offeringe for synne, he might se a loge lastinge sede. And this device of the LORDE shal prospere in his honde.

⁷ Arise (o thou swearde) vpon my shepherde, and vpon the prynce of my people, sayeth the LORDE of hoostes: Smyte the shepherde and the shepe shalbe scatred abrode, and so will I turne myne honde to the litle ones.

⁴⁴ And it came so, that he wrestled with death, and prayed the longer. And his sweate was like droppes of bloude, runnynge downe to the grounde.