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As heat in a dry place, The noise of strangers Thou humblest, Heat with the shadow of a thick cloud, The singing of the terrible is humbled.

And made hath Jehovah of Hosts, For all the peoples in this mount, A banquet of fat things, a banquet of preserved things, Fat things full of marrow, preserved things refined.

And swallowed up hath He in this mountain The face of the wrapping that is wrapped over all the peoples, And of the covering that is spread over all the nations.

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