On which account, he is glad and exulteth: on which account, he sacrificeth to his Net, and burneth incense to his Drag; because, thereby, rich, is his portion, and his food - fatness!

Before him, marcheth pestilence, - and fever, goeth forth, at his feet:

Though, the fig-tree, should not blossom, and there be no sprouting in the vines, the yield of the olive, should have deceived, and, the fields, not have brought forth food, - the flock, have been consumed out of the fold, and there be no herd in the stalls,

Yahweh, My Lord, is my strength, therefore hath he made my feet like hinds, and, upon my high places, will he cause me to march along. To the chief musician, on my double harp.