O that my provocation were thoroughly weighed, And my calamity in balances They would lift up together!

They were ashamed that one hath trusted, They have come unto it and are confounded.

Whom, though I were righteous, I answer not, For my judgment I make supplication.

If there were between us an umpire, He doth place his hand on us both.

I also, like you, might speak, If your soul were in my soul's stead. I might join against you with words, And nod at you with my head.

High they were for a little, and they are not, And they have been brought low. As all others they are shut up, And as the head of an ear of corn cut off.

A stream hath broken out from a sojourner, Those forgotten of the foot, They were low, from man they wandered.

His flesh is consumed from being seen, And high are his bones, they were not seen!

Revealed to thee were the gates of death? And the gates of death-shade dost thou see?