Betwixt morning and evening they are destroyed: They perish for ever without any regarding it.
Even that it would please God to crush me; That he would let loose his hand, and cut me off!
My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, And are spent without hope.
He will redeem their soul from oppression and violence; And precious will their blood be in his sight:
For we know that if the earthly house of our tabernacle be dissolved, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal, in the heavens.
For indeed we that are in this tabernacle do groan, being burdened; not for that we would be unclothed, but that we would be clothed upon, that what is mortal may be swallowed up of life.
And as a mantle shalt thou roll them up, As a garment, and they shall be changed: But thou art the same, And thy years shall not fail.
And I think it right, as long as I am in this tabernacle, to stir you up by putting you in remembrance;