Therefore the abundance he made, and their store, Unto the brook of the willows they carry.

For Thou hast been a stronghold for the poor, A stronghold for the needy in his distress, A refuge from storm, a shadow from heat, When the spirit of the terrible is as a storm -- a wall.

Lo, a mighty and strong one is to the Lord, As a storm of hail -- a destructive shower, As an inundation of mighty waters overflowing, He cast down to the earth with the hand.

O afflicted, storm-tossed, not comforted, Lo, I am laying with cement thy stones, And have founded thee with sapphires,