To the overseer, Thou wilt not destroy, to David a poem in his fleeing from the face of Saul in the cave. Compassionate me, O God, compassionate me: for in thee my soul put trust, and in the shadow of thy wings I will put my trust till calamity shall pass by.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem, killing the prophets, and striking with stones those having been sent to her; how often I wished to gather thy children together, which manner a hen her young brood under the wings, and ye would not!
(By which the greatest and precious promises are bestowed upon us: that by these ye might be having escaped from the corruption in the world through eager desires.)