5 Whose harvest the hungry doth eat, And even from the thorns taketh it, And the designing swallowed their wealth.
6 For sorrow cometh not forth from the dust, Nor from the ground springeth up misery.
7 For man to misery is born, And the sparks go high to fly.
8 Yet I -- I inquire for God, And for God I give my word,
9 Doing great things, and there is no searching. Wonderful, till there is no numbering.
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