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,
28 I am afraid of all my sorrows; I know that thou wilt not hold me innocent.
29 Be it that I am wicked, why then do I labour in vain?
30 If I washed myself with snow-water, and cleansed my hands in purity,
31 Then wouldest thou plunge me in the ditch, and mine own clothes would abhor me.