TSK · Proverbs 17:22

My strength is dryed vp like a potsheard, and my tongue cleaueth to my iawes, and thou hast brought me into the dust of death.

For my dayes are consumed like smoke, and my bones are burnt like an herthe.

A ioyfull heart maketh a chearefull countenance: but by the sorow of the heart the minde is heauie.

I saide of laughter, Thou art mad: and of ioy, What is this that thou doest?

By who also through faith, we haue had this accesse into this grace, wherein we stand, and reioyce vnder ye hope of the glory of God.

For godly sorowe causeth repentance vnto saluation, not to be repented of: but the worldly sorowe causeth death.