4 Safe are their young ones, They grow up in the field, they have gone out, And have not returned to them.
5 Who hath sent forth the wild ass free? Yea, the bands of the wild ass who opened?
6 Whose house I have made the wilderness, And his dwellings the barren land,
7 He doth laugh at the multitude of a city, The cries of an exactor he heareth not.
8 The range of mountains 'is' his pasture, And after every green thing he seeketh.
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