4 For the arrows of the Almighty are within me, their poison drinketh up my spirit: the terrors of +God are arrayed against me.
5 Doth the wild ass bray by the grass? loweth an ox over his fodder?
6 Shall that which is insipid be eaten without salt? Is there any taste in the white of an egg?
7 What my soul refuseth to touch, that is as my loathsome food.
8 Oh that I might have my request, and that +God would grant my desire!
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