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Exact Match

Then thou goest thy way confidently, And thy foot doth not stumble.

And thou hast howled in thy latter end, In the consumption of thy flesh and thy food,

She doth prepare in summer her bread, She hath gathered in harvest her food.

Winking with his eyes, speaking with his feet, Directing with his fingers,

Doth a man walk on the hot coals, And are his feet not scorched?

Abundance of food -- the tillage of the poor, And substance is consumed without judgment.

Apples of gold in imagery of silver, Is the word spoken at its fit times.

He is cutting off feet, he is drinking injury, Who is sending things by the hand of a fool.