There is no man ruling over the spirit to restrain the spirit, and there is no authority over the day of death, and there is no discharge in battle, and wickedness delivereth not its possessors.

If a man dieth -- doth he revive? All days of my warfare I wait, till my change come.

and they lift up their eyes from afar and have not discerned him, and they lift up their voice and weep, and rend each his robe, and sprinkle dust on their heads -- heavenward.

Darker than blackness hath been their visage, They have not been known in out-places, Cleaved hath their skin unto their bone, It hath withered -- it hath been as wood.