A spirit glided past my face; the hair of my flesh stood up.

Oh that you would hide me in Sheol, that you would conceal me until your wrath be past, that you would appoint me a set time, and remember me!

My days are past; my plans are broken off, the desires of my heart.

Some move landmarks; they seize flocks and pasture them.

He ranges the mountains as his pasture, and he searches after every green thing.