9 Thou, O God, didst pour a plentiful rain upon thine inheritance, and when it was weary thou strengthenedst it.
10 Thy flock hath dwelt therein: thou hast prepared in thy goodness, for the afflicted, O God!
11 The Lord gives the word: great the host of the publishers.
12 Kings of armies flee; they flee, and she that tarrieth at home divideth the spoil.
13 Though ye have lain among the sheepfolds, [ye shall be as] wings of a dove covered with silver, and her feathers with green gold.
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