It stood still, but I could not discern the appearance thereof; A form was before mine eyes: There was silence, and I heard a voice, saying, Shall mortal man be more just than God? Shall a man be more pure than his Maker? Behold, he putteth no trust in his servants; And his angels he chargeth with folly: How much more them that dwell in houses of clay, Whose foundation is in the dust, Who are crushed before the moth! Betwixt morning and evening they are destroyed: They perish for ever without any regarding it.
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