CCXXVII
Behold, even the moon shineth not,
Yea, the stars are not pure in his sight;
How much less man, the worm;
And the son of man, the maggot!
CCXXVIII
JOB:
How hast thou helped him that is without power?
How upholdest thou the arm that hath no strength?
To whom hast thou uttered words?
And whose spirit went out from thee?
CCXXIX
As God liveth who hath taken away my right,
And the Almighty who hath made my soul bitter,
Never shall my lips confess untruth,
Nor my tongue give utterance to falsehood!
CCXXX
Far be it from me to agree with you!
Till I die I will not yield up my integrity!
My righteousness I hold fast and will not let it go,
My heart doth not censure any one of my days.