³ Is it good unto thee that thou shouldest oppress, that thou shouldest despise the work of thine hands, and shine upon the counsel of the wicked?

¹⁴ For we must needs die, and are as water spilt on the ground, which cannot be gathered up again; neither doth God respect any person: yet doth he devise means, that his banished be not expelled from him.

¹⁵ Terrors are turned upon me: they pursue my soul as the wind: and my welfare passeth away as a cloud.