For why the house is left, the multitude of the city is forsaken; darknesses and groping be made on [the] dens, till into without end. The joy of wild asses is the pasture of flocks;
A wild ass accustomable in wilderness, drew the wind of his love in the desire of his soul; no man shall turn away it. All that seek it, shall not fail; they shall find it in the flux of unclean blood thereof.