6 Only, in an image doth each walk habitually, Only, 'in' vain, they are disquieted, He heapeth up and knoweth not who gathereth them.
7 And, now, what have I expected? O Lord, my hope -- it 'is' of Thee.
8 From all my transgressions deliver me, A reproach of the fool make me not.
9 I have been dumb, I open not my mouth, Because Thou -- Thou hast done 'it'.
10 Turn aside from off me Thy stroke, From the striving of Thy hand I have been consumed.
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