Anger and sin shape the span of days
For we are consumed in your anger. We are troubled in your wrath.
You have set our iniquities before you, Our secret sins in the light of your presence.
For all our days have passed away in your wrath. We bring our years to an end as a sigh.
The days of our years are seventy, Or even by reason of strength eighty years; Yet their pride is but labor and sorrow, For it passes quickly, and we fly away.
