Job.
Chapter 9.
Then Job answered and said: 
Of a truth, I know that it is so: For how can man be just before God? 
If he choose to contend with him, He cannot answer him to one charge of a thousand. 
He is excellent in wisdom, mighty in strength: Who hath hardened himself against him, and prospered? 
He removeth the mountains, and they know it not; He overturneth them in his anger. 
He shaketh the earth out of her place, And the pillars thereof tremble. 
He commandeth the sun, and it riseth not, And he sealeth up the stars. 
He alone spreadeth out the heavens, And walketh upon the high waves of the sea. 
He made the Bear, Orion, and the Pleiades, And the secret chambers of the South. 
He doeth great things past finding out, Yea, wonderful things without number. 
Lo! he goeth by me, but I see him not; He passeth along, but I do not perceive him. 
Lo! he seizeth, and who can hinder him? Who will say to him, What doest thou? 
God will not turn away his anger; The proud helpers are brought low before him. 
How much less shall I answer him, And choose out words to contend with him? 
Though I were innocent, I would not answer him; I would cast myself on the mercy of my judge. 
Should I call, and he make answer to me, I could not believe that he listened to my voice,— 
He who falleth upon me with a tempest, And multiplieth my wounds without cause! 
Who will not suffer me to take my breath, But filleth me with bitterness! 
If I look to strength, “Lo! here am I!” saith he, If to justice, “Who shall summon me to trial?” 
Though I were upright, yet must my own mouth condemn me; Though I were innocent, He would prove me perverse. 
Though I were innocent, I would not care for myself; I would despise my life. 
It is all one; therefore I will affirm, He destroyeth the righteous and the wicked alike. 
When the scourge bringeth sudden destruction, He laugheth at the sufferings of the innocent. 
The earth is given into the hands of the wicked; He covereth the face of the judges thereof; If it be not He, who is it? 
My days have been swifter than a courier; They have fled away; they have seen no good. 
They have gone by like the reed-skiffs; Like the eagle, darting upon his prey. 
If I say, I will forget my lamentation, I will change my countenance, and take courage, 
Still am I in dread of the multitude of my sorrows; For I know that thou wilt not hold me innocent. 
I shall be found guilty; Why then should I labor in vain? 
If I wash myself in snow, And cleanse my hands with lye, 
Still wilt thou plunge me into the pit, So that my own clothes will abhor me. 
For He is not a man, as I am, that I may contend with him, And that we may go together into judgment; 
There is no umpire between us, Who may lay his hand upon us both. 
Let him take from me his rod, And not dismay me with his terrors, 
Then I will speak, and not be afraid of him: For I am not so at heart. 
