4 For the arrows of the Almighty are within me,the poison whereof drinketh up my spirit:the terrors of God do set themselves in array against me.
5 Doth the wild ass bray when he hath grass?Or loweth the ox over his fodder?
6 Can that which is unsavory be eaten without salt?Or is there any taste in the white of an egg?
7 The things that my soul refused to touch are as my sorrowful meat.
8 Oh that I might have my request;and that God would grant me the thing that I long for!
9 Even that it would please God to destroy me;that he would let loose his hand, and cut me off!
10 Then should I yet have comfort;yea, I would harden myself in sorrow:let him not spare;for I have not concealed the words of the Holy One.