1. Woe is me! for I am as when they have gathered the summer-fruits, as the grape-gleanings of the vintage. There is no cluster to eat; there is no early fruit which my soul desired.
2. The godly man hath perished out of the land, and there is none upright among men: they all lie in wait for blood, they hunt every man his brother with a net.
3. Both hands are for evil, to do it well. The prince asketh, and the judge is there for a reward; and the great man uttereth his soul's greed: and together they combine it.