Job excuseth his desire of death.
Job 7:1 Is not the lyfe of man vpon earth a verye batayl? Are not hys daies lyke þe daies of an hired seruaunte? Job 7:2 For lyke as a bonde seruaunt desyreth the shadowe, and as an hyrelynge woulde fayne haue an ende of hys worcke: Job 7:3 Euen so haue I laboured whole monethes longe (but in vayne) and manye a carefull nyght haue I tolde. Job 7:4 When I layed me downe to slepe, I sayde: O when shall I ryse? Agayne, I longed sore for the night. Thus am I full of sorowe, tyll it be darcke. Job 7:5 My fleshe is clothed wyth wormes, fylthynesse and dust: my skynne is wythered, and crompled together: Job 7:6 my dayes passe ouer more spedelye, then a weeuer can weeue out his webbe: and are gone, or I am a warre. Job 7:7 O remembre, that my lyfe is but a wynde, and that myne eye shall nomore se the pleasures Job 7:8 therof, ye & that none other mans eye shall se me eny more. For yf thou fasten thyne eyes vpon me, I come to naught lyke Job 7:9 as a cloude is consumed & vanisshed a waye euen so he that goeth downe to hell, commeth nomore vp, Job 7:10 ner turneth agayne into hys house, nether shall hys place knowe him eny more. Job 7:11 Therfore I wyll not spare my mouth, but will speake in the trouble of my sprete, in the bytternesse of my mynde wyll I talke.
He complaineth of his own restlessness,
Job 7:12 Am I a see or a whalfysh, that thou kepest me so in preson? Job 7:13 When I thynke: my bed shall comforte me. I shall haue some refresshynge by talckinge by my self vpon my couche: Job 7:14 Then troublest thou me with dreames, and makest me so afrayed thorowe visions, Job 7:15 that my soule wyssheth rather to be strangled, and my bones to be deed. Job 7:16 I can se no remedy, I shall loue nomore: O spare me then, for my dayes are but vayne
and God's watchfulness.
Job 7:17 What is man, that thou hast hym in soch reputacyon, and settest somoch by hym? Job 7:18 Thou takest diligent care for hym, & sodenly doest thou trye hym. Job 7:19 Why goest thou not from me, ner lettest me alone, so longe tyll I swalowe doune my spetle? Job 7:20 I haue offended, what shall I do vnto the, O thou preseruer of men? Why hast thou made me to stande in thy way, and am so heuy a burden vnto my selfe? Job 7:21 Why doest thou not forgeue me my synne? Wherfore takeste thou not awaye my wyckednesse. Beholde, now must I slepe in the dust: & yf thou sekest me to morow in the morning, I shalbe gone.