¶ The song of the stairs. Many a time have they fought against me from my youth up, (may Israel now say.) Yea many a time have they fought against me from my youth up, but they have not overcome me. The plowers plowed upon my back, and made long furrows. But the righteous LORD hath hewn the yoke of the ungodly in pieces.
¶ Let them be confounded and turned backward, as many as have evil will at Sion. Let them be even as the hay upon the house tops, which withereth afore it be plucked up. Whereof the mower filleth not his hand, neither he that bindeth up the sheaves, his bosom. So that they which go by, say not so much as: the LORD prosper you, we wish you good luck in the name of the LORD.