They hunt our steps, that we cannot go in our streets: our end is near, our days are fulfilled; for our end is come.

The lovingkindnesses of Yahweh, verily they are not exhausted, Verily! not at an end, are his compassions:

Her filthiness was in her skirts; she remembered not her latter end; Therefore is she come down wonderfully; she hath no comforter: Behold, O Jehovah, my affliction; for the enemy hath magnified himself.