TSK · Proverbs 13:12

Then sayde Israel vnto Ioseph: Now am I content to dye, for so moch as I haue sene thy face, that thou art yet alyue.

Then sayde ye kynge vnto me: Why lokest thou so sadly? Thou art not sicke, that is not ye matter, but thou art heuy harted. Neuertheles I was sore afrayed,

He brought me out of the horrible pitte, out of the myre and claye: he set my fete vpo the rocke, and ordred my goinges.

I am weery of crienge, my throte is drye, my sight fayleth me, for waytinge so longe vpon my God.

Sela. Heare me (o LORDE) and that soone, for my sprete waxeth faynte: hyde not yi face fro me, lest I be like vnto the that go downe in to the graue.

The frute of the rightuous is as the tre of life, a wyse man also wynneth mens soules.

I charge you therfore (o ye doughters of Ierusalem) yf ye fynde my beloued, that ye tell him, how that I am sick for loue.

And now haue ye sorowe also: but I wil se you agayne, and youre hert shal reioyse, and youre ioye shal noman take from you.