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Non-Exact Match

My woe is to me, for I have been As gatherings of summer-fruit, As gleanings of harvest, There is no cluster to eat, The first-ripe fruit desired hath my soul.

Verse ConceptsGleaningFruitFig treeGrapesLonelinessSummerVintageNot Reaping What You Sow

Is Jehovah pleased with thousands of rams? With myriads of streams of oil? Do I give my first-born for my transgression? The fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?

Verse ConceptsFirstbornBodyRamsA Thousand AnimalsSacrificing The Firstborn