He hath caused the arrows of his quiver To enter into my reins.
For the arrows of the Almighty are within me, The poison whereof drinketh up my spirit: The terrors of God do set themselves in array against me.
The arrow cannot make him flee: Slingstones are turned with him into stubble.
I will heap mischiefs upon them; I will spend mine arrows upon them.
Their quiver is as an open sepulchre, they are all mighty men.
He hath bent his bow like an enemy: He stood with his right hand as an adversary, And slew all that were pleasant to the eye In the tabernacle of the daughter of Zion: He poured out his fury like fire.