In the greatness of thy way thou hast laboured, Thou hast not said, `It is desperate.' The life of thy hand thou hast found, Therefore thou hast not been sick.
Thou hast been wearied in the multitude of thy counsels, Stand up, I pray thee, and save thee, Let the charmers of the heavens, Those looking on the stars, Those teaching concerning the months, From those things that come on thee!
Withhold thy foot from being unshod, And thy throat from thirst, And thou sayest, `It is incurable, No, for I have loved strangers, and after them I go.'
Jehovah, Thine eyes, are they not on stedfastness? Thou hast smitten them, and they have not grieved, Thou hast consumed them, They have refused to receive instruction, They made their faces harder than a rock, They have refused to turn back.