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Clothed hath been my flesh [with] worms, And a clod of dust, My skin hath been shrivelled and is loathsome,

My days swifter than a weaving machine, And they are consumed without hope.

Remember Thou that my life [is] a breath, Mine eye turneth not back to see good.

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My body is clothed with worms(A) and scabs,
    my skin is broken and festering.(B)

“My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle,(C)
    and they come to an end without hope.(D)
Remember, O God, that my life is but a breath;(E)
    my eyes will never see happiness again.(F)

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