And when they lifted up their eyes afar off, and knew him not, they lifted up their voice, and wept; and they tore every one his mantle, and sprinkled dust upon their heads toward heaven.

If you prepare your heart, and stretch out your hands toward him;

Shall not his excellence make you afraid? and his dread fall upon you?

Withdraw your hand far from me: and let not your dread make me afraid.

Who make oil within their walls, and tread their winepresses, yet suffer thirst.

Does the hawk fly by your wisdom, and stretch her wings toward the south?

Look on every one that is proud, and bring him low; and tread down the wicked in their place.

The sword of him that reaches him cannot avail: neither the spear, the dart, nor the javelin.