As through a wide breach they come In the midst of the ruin they roll themselves upon me
Who were snatched away before their time, Whose foundation was poured out as a stream:
They mar my path, They set forward my calamity, Even men that have no helper.
Terrors are turned upon me, They chase mine honour as the wind; And my welfare is passed away as a cloud.
The cords of death compassed me, And the floods of ungodliness made me afraid.