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And draw out spear and lance, To meet my pursuers. Say to my soul, 'Thy salvation I am.'

Causing wars to cease, Unto the end of the earth, the bow he shivereth, And the spear He hath cut asunder, Chariots he doth burn with fire.

My soul is in the midst of lions, I lie down among flames -- sons of men, Their teeth are a spear and arrows, And their tongue a sharp sword.

(Even a sparrow hath found a house, And a swallow a nest for herself, Where she hath placed her brood,) Thine altars, O Jehovah of Hosts, My king and my God.