21 Were I perfect, yet would I not know my soul: I would despise my life.
22 It is all one; therefore I said, he destroyeth the perfect and the wicked.
23 If the scourge kill suddenly, he mocketh at the trial of the innocent.
24 The earth is given over into the hand of the wicked man; he covereth the faces of its judges. If not, who then is it?
25 And my days are swifter than a runner: they flee away, they see no good.
26 They pass by like skiffs of reed; as an eagle that swoops upon the prey.
27 If I say, I will forget my complaint, I will leave off my sad countenance, and brighten up,