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 stoning those sent to her; how often did I wish to gather thy children together, which manner a bird gathers together her young broods under the wings, and ye would not!
As the eagle he will arouse his young brood, He will brood over his young birds; He will spread out his wings, and will take them; He will lift them up upon his wings: