My days go quicker than a post-runner: they go in flight, they see no good.

Have the doors of death been open to you, or have the door-keepers of the dark ever seen you?

When I went out of my door to go up to the town, and took my seat in the public place,

If my heart went after another man's wife, or if I was waiting secretly at my neighbour's door;

For fear of the great body of people, or for fear that families might make sport of me, so that I kept quiet, and did not go out of my door;