For there is hope of a tree, if it is cut down, that it will sprout again, and that the tender branch of it will not cease.

He shall shake off his unripe grape as the vine, and shall cast off his flower as the olive tree.

He has broken me down on every side, and I am gone. And he has plucked up my hope like a tree.

The womb shall forget him. The worm shall feed sweetly on him. He shall be no more remembered. And unrighteousness shall be broken as a tree.