And they eat of the fruit of their way, And from their own counsels they are filled.

And filled are thy barns with plenty, And with new wine thy presses break forth.

Lest strangers be filled with thy power, And thy labours in the house of a stranger,

Come, we are filled with loves till the morning, We delight ourselves in loves.

From his ways is the backslider in heart filled, And a good man -- from his fruits.

Sweet to a man is the bread of falsehood, And afterwards is his mouth filled with gravel.

And by knowledge the inner parts are filled, With all precious and pleasant wealth.

Whoso is tilling his ground is satisfied with bread, And whoso is pursuing vanity, Is filled with poverty.