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.
10 Who is giving rain on the face of the land, And is sending waters on the out-places.
11 To set the low on a high place, And the mourners have been high 'in' safety.
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