2 As nothing, have my steps slipped, For I have been envious of the boastful,
3 The peace of the wicked I see, That there are no bands at their death,
4 And their might 'is' firm.
5 In the misery of mortals they are not, And with common men they are not plagued.
6 Therefore hath pride encircled them, Violence covereth them as a dress.
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