⁶ My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle,
and are spent without hope.
⁷ O remember that my life is wind:
mine eye shall no more see good.

¹⁶ I loathe it; I would not live alway:
let me alone; for my days are vanity.
¹⁷ What is man, that thou shouldest magnify him?
and that thou shouldest set thine heart upon him?
¹⁸ And that thou shouldest visit him every morning,
and try him every moment?
¹⁹ How long wilt thou not depart from me,
nor let me alone till I swallow down my spittle?