I beat them fine, like the dust of the earth; like the mire of the streets, I crushed them, I stamped them down.

And [so] he brought me up from [the] roaring pit, from the miry clay. And he put my feet upon a rock; he made my steps steady.

But the wicked [are] like the churning sea, that is not able to keep quiet, and its waters toss up mire and mud.