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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.
Doth the wild ass bray when he hath grass?
Or loweth the ox over his fodder?
Can that which hath no savor be eaten without salt?
Or is there any taste in [a]the white of an egg?

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Footnotes

  1. Job 6:6 Or, the juice of purslain