Lord, the multitude of thy sweet-ness is full great; which thou hast hid to men dreading thee. Thou hast made a perfect thing to them that hope in thee; in the sight of the sons of men.
My soul, why art thou sorry; and why troublest thou me? Hope thou in God, for yet I shall acknowledge to him; he is the health of my cheer, and my God.
Therefore God shall destroy thee into the end, he shall draw thee out by the root, and he shall make thee to pass away from thy tabernacle; and thy root from the land of living men.
And I am as a mild lamb, which is borne to slain sacrifice; and I knew not, that they thought counsels on me, and said, Send we a tree into the bread of him, and raze we him away from the land of livers, and his name be no more had in mind.
And I shall draw thee down with them that go down into a pit, to the people everlasting; and I shall set thee in the last land, as old wilder-nesses, with them that be led down into a pit, that thou be not inhabited. Certainly when I shall give glory in the land of livers,