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15 You trampled the sea with Your horses,
    through the wakes of great waters.

16 I heard, and my body trembled;
    my lips quivered at the sound;
rottenness entered my bones;
    my legs tremble beneath me.
Yet I will wait quietly for the day
    when calamity comes on the people invading us.

A Hymn of Faith

17 Though the fig tree does not blossom,
    nor fruit be on the vines;
though the yield of the olive fails,
    and the fields produce no food;
though the flocks are cut off from the fold,
    and there be no herd in the stalls—

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