To bruise under one's feet any bound ones of earth,
To hear the groan of the prisoner, To loose sons of death,
For Jehovah hearkeneth unto the needy, And His bound ones He hath not despised.
Let the groaning of the prisoner come in before Thee, According to the greatness of Thine arm, Leave Thou the sons of death.
He hath made the world as a wilderness, And his cities he hath broken down, Of his bound ones he opened not the house.
To say to the bound, Go out, To those in darkness, Be uncovered. On the ways they feed, And in all high places is their pasture.
A scattered sheep is Israel, lions have driven away, At first, devour him did the king of Asshur, And now, at last, broken his bone Hath Nebuchadrezzar king of Babylon.
For He hath not afflicted with His heart, Nor doth He grieve the sons of men.
To turn aside the judgment of a man, Over-against the face of the Most High,