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¶ Woe is me! for I am as when they have gathered the summer fruits, as the grapegleanings of the vintage: there is no cluster to eat: my soul desired the firstripe fruit.

The merciful man of the earth is missing: and there is no one upright among men: they all lie in wait for blood; they hunt each man his brother with a net.

To complete the evil with their hands, the prince demands, and the judge judges for a reward; and the great man speaks the desires of his heart: and they confirm it.

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