Thy fierce wrath goeth over me; thy terrors have cut me off.

For all our days are passed away in thy wrath: we spend our years as a tale that is told.

Because of thine indignation and thy wrath: for thou hast lifted me up, and cast me down.

Cast abroad the rage of thy wrath: and behold every one that is proud, and abase him.

O lord, rebuke me not in thy wrath: neither chasten me in thy hot displeasure.

Moreover, my father, see, yea, see the skirt of thy robe in my hand: for in that I cut off the skirt of thy robe, and killed thee not, know thou and see that there is neither evil nor transgression in mine hand, and I have not sinned against thee; yet thou huntest my soul to take it.