Job 6:11

I offer pretty turns of phrase

A silken view of life,

But nothing I can do or say

Can turn misfortune’s knife.

I cannot heal a broken heart

Or give back the job lost,

My words can’t help the soldiers’ wife

Whose loved one paid the cost.

My words won’t hold back the wild tide

Or lift despair’s grim shade

And nothing I can say or write

Can change the choice that’s made,

But still I raise my songs of praise

And share the sights I see,

For he, who can do all these things,

Has asked that much of me.

So while he works to heal a world,

Where hope is often scant,

I’ll work at those things I can do

And leave him what I can’t.

Job 6:11
“What strength do I have, that I should still hope? What prospects, that I should be patient?