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13 From above He hath sent fire into my bone, And it subdueth it, He hath spread a net for my feet, He hath turned me backward, He hath made me desolate -- all the day sick.

14 Bound hath been the yoke of my transgressions by His hand, They are wrapped together, They have gone up on my neck, He hath caused my power to stumble, The Lord hath given me into hands, I am not able to rise.

15 Trodden down all my mighty ones hath the Lord in my midst, He proclaimed against me an appointed time, To destroy my young men, A wine-press hath the Lord trodden, To the virgin daughter of Judah.

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