Marvel not at me that I am so black: For why? The sun hath shined upon me. My mother's children had evil will at me, they made me the keeper of the vineyards; but mine own vineyard have I not kept.

Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest the sheep, where thou maketh the rest at the noon day: for why shall I be like him that goeth wrong about the flocks of thy companions?