You sweep men away1 in the sleep of death; they are like the new grass of the morning--
though in the morning it springs up new, by evening it is dry and withered.27
We are consumed by your anger and terrified by your indignation.
You have set our iniquities before you, our secret sins3 in the light of your presence.49
All our days pass away under your wrath; we finish our years with a moan.510
The length of our days is seventy years6-- or eighty,7 if we have the strength; yet their spana is but trouble and sorrow,8 for they quickly pass, and we fly away.9