³ Like an apple^[a] tree among the trees of the forest
    is my beloved^(A) among the young men.
I delight^(B) to sit in his shade,
    and his fruit is sweet to my taste.^(C)

³ Assyria cannot save us;^(A)
    we will not mount warhorses.^(B)
We will never again say ‘Our gods’^(C)
    to what our own hands have made,^(D)
    for in you the fatherless^(E) find compassion.”