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I have been wearied with my calling, Burnt hath been my throat, Consumed have been mine eyes, waiting for my God.

Those hating me without cause Have been more than the hairs of my head, Mighty have been my destroyers, My lying enemies, That which I took not away -- I bring back.

O God, Thou -- Thou hast known Concerning my overturn, And my desolations from Thee have not been hid.

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