The way of the wicked is as darkness, They have not known at what they stumble.

A foolish woman is noisy, Simple, and hath not known what.

Go not forth to strive, haste, turn, What dost thou in its latter end, When thy neighbour causeth thee to blush?

Boast not thyself of to-morrow, For thou knowest not what a day bringeth forth.

Who went up to heaven, and cometh down? Who hath gathered the wind in his fists? Who hath bound waters in a garment? Who established all ends of the earth? What is His name? and what His son's name? Surely thou knowest!

'What, my son? and what, son of my womb? And what, son of my vows?