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Turn back, I pray you, let it not be perverseness, Yea, turn back again -- my righteousness is in it.

He turneth not again to his house, Nor doth his place discern him again.

For there is of a tree hope, if it be cut down, That again it doth change, That its tender branch doth not cease.

The eye hath not seen him, and addeth not. And not again doth his place behold him.

(They have broken down, They have not answered again, They removed from themselves words.