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It shall go down to the bars of Sheol, When once there is rest in the dust.

Where then is my hope? And as for my hope, who shall see it?

Mine eye also is dim by reason of sorrow, And all my members are as a shadow.

Upright men shall be astonished at this, And the innocent shall stir up himself against the godless.

My days are past, my purposes are broken off, Even the thoughts of my heart.

If I have said to corruption, Thou art my father; To the worm, `Thou art' my mother, and my sister;

They change the night into day: The light, `say they', is near unto the darkness.

Job 18

Yet shall the righteous hold on his way, And he that hath clean hands shall wax stronger and stronger.

But as for you all, come on now again; And I shall not find a wise man among you.

If I look for Sheol as my house; If I have spread my couch in the darkness;

But he hath made me a byword of the people; And they spit in my face.

I also could speak as ye do; If your soul were in my soul's stead, I could join words together against you, And shake my head at you.

He wandereth abroad for bread, `saying', Where is it? He knoweth that the day of darkness is ready at his hand.

For thou hast hid their heart from understanding: Therefore shalt thou not exalt `them'.

Although there is no violence in my hands, And my prayer is pure.

He shall shake off his unripe grape as the vine, And shall cast off his flower as the olive-tree.

Behold, he putteth no trust in his holy ones; Yea, the heavens are not clean in his sight:

He shall not depart out of darkness; The flame shall dry up his branches, And by the breath of `God's' mouth shall he go away.

Though I speak, my grief is not assuaged; And though I forbear, what am I eased?

He runneth upon him with a `stiff' neck, With the thick bosses of his bucklers;

Job 17

But' I would strengthen you with my mouth, And the solace of my lips would assuage your grief'.

How much less one that is abominable and corrupt, A man that drinketh iniquity like water!

The wicked man travaileth with pain all his days, Even the number of years that are laid up for the oppressor.

Why doth thy heart carry thee away? And why do thine eyes flash,

They have gaped upon me with their mouth; They have smitten me upon the cheek reproachfully: They gather themselves together against me.

He believeth not that he shall return out of darkness, And he is waited for of the sword.

He hath torn me in his wrath, and persecuted me; He hath gnashed upon me with his teeth: Mine adversary sharpeneth his eyes upon me.

A sound of terrors is in his ears; In prosperity the destroyer shall come upon him.