Job.
Chapter 9.
Then answered Job, and said, 
Truly I know that it is so: and how could a mortal be righteous before God? 
If he were desirous to enter into a contest with him, he could not give him one answer out of a thousand. 
He is wise of heart, and mighty in strength: who hath hardened himself against him, and escaped unscathed? 
He it is who removeth mountains, and they know it not, yea, when he overturneth them in his anger; 
Who shaketh the earth loose out of her place, that her pillars tremble; 
Who speaketh to the sun, and he shineth not, and around the stars he placeth a seal; 
Who spread out the heavens by himself alone, and treadeth upon the hillocks of the sea; 
Who made the Bear, Orion, and the Pleiades, and the chambers the south; 
Who doth great things which are quite unsearchable, and wonders which are quite without number. 
Lo, were he to go past by me, I should not see him; and were he to pass along, I should not perceive him. 
Behold, were he to snatch aught away, who could hold him back? who would say unto him, What dost thou? 
God will not withdraw his anger: beneath him sink down the helpers of the proud. 
How much less then could I answer him, and select my words to contend with him? 
Whom, were I even righteous, I could not answer? to him that condemneth me I could only make supplication. 
Or were I to call, and he would answer me, I could yet not believe that he would give ear unto my voice— 
He that bruiseth me with his tempest, and multiplieth my wounds without a cause. 
He suffereth me not to recover my breath; but feedeth me overmuch with bitter things. 
If it regard strength, lo, he is the powerful; and if justice, who will cite him for me to appear? 
If I were righteous even, my own mouth would condemn me: were I innocent, it would still prove me perverse. 
I am innocent; I will not have regard for myself: I will despise my life. 
One thing is certain, therefore have I said it, The innocent and the wicked he bringeth to their end. 
If a scourge should slay suddenly, he will mock at the trial of the guiltless. 
Is a land given up into the hand of the wicked? he covereth the faces of its judges: if this be not the truth, who is it then? 
And my days pass swifter than a runner: they flee away, they see no happiness, 
They hasten along like pirate ships: like the eagle that stoopeth down upon his food. 
If I say, I will forget my complaint, I will leave off my sorrowful countenance, and recover my cheerfulness: 
O then would I be in dread of all my pains; I know that thou wilt not declare me innocent. 
I must ever be guilty: why then should I fatigue myself for nought? 
If I were to wash myself in snow-water, to cleanse myself in the purity of my hands: 
Even then wouldst thou plunge me in the ditch, that my own clothes would render me abhorred. 
For he is not a man, like me, that I could answer him, that we should enter together into a contest. 
There is no one who can decide between us, who could lay his hand upon us both. 
Let him but remove from me his rod, and let not his dread terrify me: 
Then would I speak, and not fear him; for the like I feel not within me. 
