¹⁸ Their soul abhorreth all manner of meat; and they draw near unto the gates of death.

³ For my soul is full of troubles: and my life draweth nigh unto the grave.

¹³ Have mercy upon me, O Lord; consider my trouble which I suffer of them that hate me, thou that liftest me up from the gates of death:

¹⁹ He is chastened also with pain upon his bed, and the multitude of his bones with strong pain:

²⁰ So that his life abhorreth bread, and his soul dainty meat.

²¹ His flesh is consumed away, that it cannot be seen; and his bones that were not seen stick out.

²² Yea, his soul draweth near unto the grave, and his life to the destroyers.

¹⁰ I said in the cutting off of my days, I shall go to the gates of the grave: I am deprived of the residue of my years.