1. Pray, call, is there any to answer thee? And unto which of the holy ones dost thou turn?
2. For provocation slayeth the perverse, And envy putteth to death the simple,
3. I--I have seen the perverse taking root, And I mark his habitation straightway,
4. Far are his sons from safety, And they are bruised in the gate, And there is no deliverer.
5. Whose harvest the hungry doth eat, And even from the thorns taketh it, And the designing swallowed their wealth.
6. For sorrow cometh not forth from the dust, Nor from the ground springeth up misery.
7. For man to misery is born, And the sparks go high to fly.
8. Yet I--I inquire for God, And for God I give my word,
9. Doing great things, and there is no searching. Wonderful, till there is no numbering.