God sets the lonely in families. He brings out the prisoners with singing, but the rebellious dwell in a sun-scorched land.

And when the sun was up, they were scorched; and because they had no root, they withered away.

But when the sun was up, it was scorched; and because it had no root, it withered away.

Look not upon me, because I am swarthy, Because the sun hath scorched me. My mother's sons were incensed against me; They made me keeper of the vineyards; But mine own vineyard have I not kept.

They will not be hungry anymore, nor will they get thirsty anymore. The sun will not beat down on them, nor will they become scorched by the heat.