For it would be now heavier than the sand of the sea: therefore my words are [a]swallowed up.

For the arrows of the Almighty are in me, the venom whereof doth drink up my spirit, and the terrors of God [b]fight against me.

Doth the [c]wild ass bray when he hath grass? or loweth the ox when he hath fodder?

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Footnotes

  1. Job 6:3 My grief is so great that I lack words to express it.
  2. Job 6:4 Which declareth that he was not only afflicted in body, but wounded in conscience, which is the greatest battle that the faithful can have.
  3. Job 6:5 Think you that I cry without cause, seeing the brute beasts do not complain when they have what they would.

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