I -- I have seen the perverse taking root, And I mark his habitation straightway,

His memorial hath perished from the land, And he hath no name on the street.

In the street doth not lodge a stranger, My doors to the traveller I open.

And also He moved thee from a strait place, To a broad place -- no straitness under it, And the sitting beyond of thy table Hath been full of fatness.