(For with sons of the field is thy covenant, And the beast of the field Hath been at peace with thee.)

In a field his provender they reap, And the vineyard of the wicked they glean.

Safe are their young ones, They grow up in the field, they have gone out, And have not returned to them.

And she forgetteth that a foot may press it, And a beast of the field tread it down.

For food do mountains bear for him, And all the beasts of the field play there.