I am counted with them that go down into the pit: I am as a man that has no strength:

Adrift among the dead, like the slain that lie in the grave, whom you remember no more: and they are cut off from your hand.

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.

My 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 from the loom: from day even to night will you make an end of me.

You shall break them with a rod of iron; you shall dash them in pieces like a potter's vessel.

For I am become like a wineskin in the smoke; yet do I not forget your statutes.

And he shall break it as the breaking of the potters' vessel that is broken in pieces; he shall not spare: so that there shall not be found among the fragments of it a sherd to take fire from the hearth, or to dip water out of the cistern.

Has not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one vessel unto honor, and another unto dishonor?

What if God, willing to show his wrath, and to make his power known, endured with much longsuffering the vessels of wrath fitted to destruction:

And he shall rule them with a rod of iron; as the vessels of a potter shall they be broken to pieces: even as I received of my Father.