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“My days fly more swiftly than a weaver’s shuttle,
    and are spent without hope.
Oh, remember that my life is a breath!
    My eye will never again see good.
The eye of him who sees me will behold me no more;
    your eyes will be on me, but I will be no more.
As the cloud disappears and vanishes away,
    so he who goes down to Sheol will come up no more.
10 He will never return to his house,
    and his place will not recognize him anymore.

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My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle,
And are spent without hope.
Oh remember that my life is a breath:
Mine eye shall no more see good.
The eye of him that seeth me shall behold me no more;
Thine eyes shall be upon me, but I shall not be.
As the cloud is consumed and vanisheth away,
So he that goeth down to Sheol shall come up no more.
10 He shall return no more to his house,
Neither shall his place know him any more.

Read full chapter