18. For I have been full of words, Distressed me hath the spirit of my breast,
19. Lo, my breast [is] as wine not opened, Like new bottles it is broken up.
20. I speak, and there is refreshment to me, I open my lips and answer.
21. Let me not, I pray you, accept the face of any, Nor unto man give flattering titles,
22. For I have not known to give flattering titles, In a little doth my Maker take me away.