God

Lo, He breaketh down, and it is not built up, He shutteth against a man, And it is not opened.

Lo, He keepeth in the waters, and they are dried up, And he sendeth them forth, And they overturn the land.

With Him are strength and wisdom, His the deceived and deceiver.

Magnifying the nations, and He destroyeth them, Spreading out the nations, and He quieteth them.

They feel darkness, and not light, He causeth them to wander as a drunkard.

Yet I for the Mighty One do speak, And to argue for God I delight.

For God do ye speak perverseness? And for Him do ye speak deceit?

His face do ye accept, if for God ye strive?

Is it good that He doth search you, If, as one mocketh at a man, ye mock at Him?

Doth not His excellency terrify you? And His dread fall upon you?

Lo, He doth slay me--I wait not! Only, my ways unto His face I argue.

Also--He is to me for salvation, For the profane cometh not before Him.

Only two things, O God, do with me: Then from Thy face I am not hidden.

Thy hand put far off from me, And Thy terror let not terrify me.

And call Thou, and I--I answer, Or--I speak, and answer Thou me.

Why dost Thou hide Thy face? And reckonest me for an enemy to Thee?

A leaf driven away dost Thou terrify? And the dry stubble dost Thou pursue?

For Thou writest against me bitter things, And causest me to possess iniquities of my youth:

And puttest in the stocks my feet, And observest all my paths, On the roots of my feet Thou settest a print,

Also--on this Thou hast opened Thine eyes, And dost bring me into judgment with Thee.

If determined are his days, The number of his months are with Thee, His limit Thou hast made, And he passeth not over;

O that in Sheol Thou wouldest conceal me, Hide me till the turning of Thine anger, Set for me a limit, and remember me.

Thou dost call, and I--I answer Thee; To the work of Thy hands Thou hast desire.

But now, my steps Thou numberest, Thou dost not watch over my sin.

Sealed up in a bag is my transgression, And Thou sewest up mine iniquity.