My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent without hope.
5My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust; my skin is broken, and become loathsome.
6My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent without hope.
7O remember that my life is wind: mine eye shall no more see good.
8The eye of him that hath seen me shall see me no more: thine eyes are upon me, and I am not.
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