JOB.
Chapter 3.
After these things Job opened his mouth, and cursed his day, 
and he said, 
Perish the day in which I was born, and the night in which it was said, A man is conceived. 
That day be turned into darknesses; God seek not it from above, and be it not in mind, neither be it lightened with light. 
Darkness make it dark, and the shadow of death and of mist occupy it; and be it wrapped with bitterness. 
Dark whirlwind hold that night; be it not reckoned among the days of the year, neither be it numbered among the months. 
That night be sullen, and not worthy of praising. 
Curse they it, that curse the day, that be ready to raise Leviathan. 
The Stars of that night be they made dark with the darkness thereof; abide it light, and see it not, neither see it the beginning of the morrow-tide rising up. 
For it closed not the doors of the womb, that bare me, neither it took away evil from mine eyes. 
Why was not I dead in the womb? why went I out of the womb, and perished not anon? 
Why was I taken on knees? why was I given suck with teats? 
For now I sleeping should be still, and I should rest in my sleep, 
with kings and counsellors of the earth, which build to them sullen places; 
either with princes that have gold in possession, and fill their houses with silver; 
either as a child, or a beast, born before the time, and hid, I should not have been; either as they that be conceived, and saw not light. 
There wicked men ceased of making noise, and there men made weary of strength rested. 
And sometime men bound together now be without dis-ease, they heard not the voice of the wrongful asker. 
A little man and a great man be there, and a servant is free from his lord. 
Why is light given to the wretch, and life to them that be in bitterness of soul? 
Which abide death, and it cometh not; as men that dig out treasure, 
and joy greatly, when they have found a sepulchre? 
Why is light given to a man, whose way is hid, and God hath encompassed him with darknesses? 
Before that I eat, I sigh; and as of water flowing, so is my roaring. 
For the dread, which I dreaded, hath come to me; and that thing, that I shamed of, hath befallen to me. 
Whether I dissembled or feigned not? whether I was not still? whether I rested not? and yet indignation hath come up on me. 
