Restored to his wonted strength, the king of Judah acknowledged in words of song the mercies of Jehovah, and vowed to spend his remaining days in willing service to the King of kings. His grateful recognition of God's compassionate dealing with him is an inspiration to all who desire to spend their years to the glory of their Maker. 343 "I said In the cutting off of my days, I shall go to the gates of the grave: I am deprived of the residue of my years. "I said, I shall not see the Lord, even the Lord, in the land of the living; I shall behold man no more with the inhabitants of the world. "Mine age is departed, And is removed from me as a shepherd's tent: "I have cut off like a weaver my life: He will cut me off with pining sickness: "From day even to night wilt Thou make an end of me. I reckoned till morning, that, As a lion, so will He break all my bones: "From day even to night wilt Thou make an end of me. Like a crane or a swallow, so did I chatter: I did mourn as a dove: Mine eyes fail with looking upward: O Lord, I am oppressed; undertake for me. "What shall I say? He hath both spoken unto me, And Himself hath done it: I shall go softly all my years in the bitterness of my soul. "O Lord, by these things men live, And in all these things is the life of my spirit: So wilt Thou recover me, and make me to live. "Behold, for peace I had great bitterness: But Thou hast in love to my soul delivered it from the pit of corruption: For Thou hast cast all my sins behind Thy back. "For the grave cannot praise Thee, Death cannot celebrate Thee: They that go down into the pit cannot hope for Thy truth. 344 "The living, the living, he shall praise Thee, As I do this day: The father to the children shall make known Thy truth. "The Lord was ready to save me: Therefore we will sing my songs to the stringed instruments All the days of our life in the house of the Lord." Isaiah 38:10-20.

"Jeg tænkte: Bort må jeg gå i min bedste alder, hensættes i dødsrigets porte mine sidste år. Jeg tænkte: Ej skuer jeg Herren i de levendes land, ser ingen mennesker mer blandt skyggerigets folk; min bolig er nedbrudt, ført fra mig som hyrdernes telt, som en væver sammenruller du mit liv og skar det fra tråden. Du ofrer mig fra dag til nat, jeg skriger til daggry; som en løve knuser han alle benene i mig; du giver mig hen fra dag til nat. Jeg klynker som klagende svale, sukker som duen, jeg skuer med tårer mod himmelen: Herre, jeg trænges, vær mig borgen! Hvad skal jeg sige? Han talte til mig, og selv greb han ind. For bitterhedens skyld i min sjæl vil jeg vandre sagtelig alle mine år. Herre, man skal bære bud derom til alle kommende slægter. Opliv min ånd, helbred mig og gør mig rask! Se, bitterhed, bitterhed blev mig til fred. Og du skånede min sjæl for undergangens grav; thi alle mine synder kastede du bag din ryg. Thi dødsriget takker dig ikke, dig lover ej døden, på din miskundhed håber ej de, der synker i graven. Men den levende, den levende takker dig som jeg i dag. Om din trofasthed taler fædre til deres børn. Herre, frels os! Så vil vi røre strengene alle vore levedage ved Herrens hus." Es. 38,10-20.