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My heritage is unto me as a speckled bird; the birds round about are against her; come ye, assemble all the beasts of the field, come to devour her.

10 Many pastors have destroyed my vineyard; they have trodden my heritage under foot; they have made my precious heritage a desolate wilderness.

11 They have made it desolate; it cries against me, desolate; the whole land was made desolate because there was no man that would see.

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