1 Lo, My servant, I take hold on him, My chosen one -- My soul hath accepted, I have put My Spirit upon him, Judgment to nations he bringeth forth.
2 He doth not cry, nor lift up, Nor cause his voice to be heard, in the street.
3 A bruised reed he breaketh not, And dim flax he quencheth not, To truth he bringeth forth judgment.
4 He doth not become weak nor bruised, Till he setteth judgment in the earth, And for his law isles wait with hope.
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