“My days are past more swiftly than a web is cut off by the weaver. By a very suitable image the time of the flesh is compared to a web. For as the web advances by threads, so this mortal life by the several days; but in proportion as it grows to its bigness, it is advancing to its cutting off. For as we have also said…”
Gregory the Dialogist, 7th c. — Morals on the Book of Job, Book VIII
Original
6My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, and are spent without hope.
Modern
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Teens
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In context
4When I lie down, I say, When shall I arise, and the night be gone? and I am full of tossings to and fro unto the dawning of the day.
5My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust; my skin is broken, and become loathsome.
— Job 7:6 —
7O remember that my life is wind: mine eye shall no more see good.
8The eye of him that hath seen me shall see me no more: thine eyes are upon me, and I am not.