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25 Now my days are swifter than a post:
they flee away, they see no good.
26 They are passed away as the swift ships:
as the eagle that hasteth to the prey.

27 If I say, I will forget my complaint,
I will leave off my heaviness, and comfort myself:
28 I am afraid of all my sorrows,
I know that thou wilt not hold me innocent.
29 If I be wicked, why then labour I in vain?
30 If I wash myself with snow water,
and make my hands never so clean;
31 yet shalt thou plunge me in the ditch,
and mine own clothes shall abhor me.

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