21 You have become cruel to me; the strength of your hand is hard on me.
22 Lifting me up, you make me go on the wings of the wind; I am broken up by the storm.
23 For I am certain that you will send me back to death, and to the meeting-place ordered for all living.
24 Has not my hand been stretched out in help to the poor? have I not been a saviour to him in his trouble?
25 Have I not been weeping for the crushed? and was not my soul sad for him who was in need?
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