12 While it 'is' in its budding -- uncropt, Even before any herb it withereth.
13 So 'are' the paths of all forgetting God, And the hope of the profane doth perish,
14 Whose confidence is loathsome, And the house of a spider his trust.
15 He leaneth on his house -- and it standeth not: He taketh hold on it -- and it abideth not.
16 Green he 'is' before the sun, And over his garden his branch goeth out.
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