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My soule is weary of my life, I will leaue my complaint vpon my selfe; I will speake in the bitternesse of my soule.

I will say vnto God, Doe not condemne mee; shewe me wherefore thou contendest with me.

Is it good vnto thee, that thou shouldest oppresse? that thou shouldest despise the worke of thine hands? and shine vpon the counsell of the wicked?

Hast thou eyes of flesh? or seest thou as man seeth?

Are thy dayes as the dayes of man? are thy yeeres as mans dayes,

That thou enquirest after mine iniquitie, and searchest after my sinne?

Thou knowest that I am not wicked, and there is none that can deliuer out of thine hand.