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And each his brother they press not, Each in his way they go on, If by the missile they fall, they are not cut off.

In the city they run to and fro, On the wall they run, Into houses they go up by the windows, They go in as a thief.

10 At their face trembled hath the earth, Shaken have the heavens, Sun and moon have been black, And stars have gathered up their shining.

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