And the eyes of the unjust shall be consumed, and flight shall perish from them, and their hope a breathing out of the soul.

And where is now my hope? as for my hope, who shall see it?

He will lay me waste round about, and I shall go: and he will remove my hope as a tree.

And he -- to the graves he is brought. And over the heap a watch is kept.

Lo, hope as to him is belied: is not one cast down even at the sight of him?