4 For the arrows of the Almighty are within me, the poison whereof my spirit drinketh up: 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 hath no savour be eaten without salt? or is there any taste in the white of an egg?
7 My soul refuseth to touch them; they are as loathsome meat to me.
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 crush me; that he would let loose his hand, and cut me off!
10 Then should I yet have comfort; yea, I would exult in pain that spareth not: for I have not denied the words of the Holy One.