25 Now my days are swifter than a post: They flee away, they see no good,
26 They are passed away as the swift ships; As the eagle that swoopeth on the prey.
27 If I say, I will forget my complaint, I will put off my [sad] countenance, and be of good cheer;
28 I am afraid of all my sorrows, I know that thou wilt not hold me innocent.
29 I shall be condemned; Why then do I labor in vain?
30 If I wash myself with snow water, And make my hands never so clean;
31 Yet wilt thou plunge me in the ditch, And mine own clothes shall abhor me.
