I -- I am He -- your comforter, Who art thou -- and thou art afraid of man? he dieth! And of the son of man -- grass he is made!

In that day doth man cast his idols of silver, And his idols of gold, That they have made for him to worship, To moles, and to bats,

And it hath been for man to burn, And he taketh of them, and becometh warm, Yea, he kindleth it, and hath baked bread, Yea, he maketh a god, and boweth himself, He hath made it a graven image, And he falleth down to it.

I made earth, and man on it prepared, I -- My hands stretched out the heavens, And all their host I have commanded.