TSK · Lamentations 3:17

O remember that my lyfe is but a winde, and that myne eye shall no more see pleasures:

Beholde, bitter as gall was my pensiuenesse, so sore longed I for health, and it was thy pleasure to deliuer my lyfe from the filthy pit: for thou it is O Lorde that hast cast all my sinnes behynde thy backe.

We roare all like beares, and mourne still like doues: we looke for equitie, but there is none: for health, but it is farre from vs.

Hast thou then vtterly forsaken Iuda? Doest thou so abhorre Sion? Wherfore hast thou so plagued vs, that we can be healed no more? We loked for peace, and there commeth no good, for the tyme of health, and lo here is nothyng but trouble.

Cursed be the day wherein I was borne, vnhappy be the day wherein my mother brought me foorth.

For before these dayes neither men nor cattaile could winne any thing, neither might any man come in and out in reste for trouble: but I let euery man go against his neighbour.