Nor do they mutter through their throat, Like them are their makers, Every one who is trusting in them.
Like them are their makers, Every one who is trusting in them.
Brutish is every man by knowledge, Put to shame is every refiner by a graven image, For false `is' his molten image. And there is no breath in them.
And in one they are brutish and foolish, An instruction of vanities `is' the tree itself.
Those observing lying vanities their own mercy forsake.