Will Jehovah be pleased with thousands of rams, with ten thousands of rivers of oil? Shall I give my first-born for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?

Woe is me! For I am like the gatherings of summer fruits, like the grape-gleanings of the vintage. There is no cluster to eat; my soul desires the first-ripe fruit.

Both hands are on evil, to do it well. The ruler asks for a bribe, and the judge also; and the great man speaks the evil desire of his soul. So they weave it together.