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How can I myself alone bear your cumbrance, and your burden, and your strife?
Also by watering he wearieth the thick cloud: he scattereth his bright cloud:
Your new moons and your appointed feasts my soul hateth: they are a trouble unto me; I am weary to bear [them].
¶ To the chief Musician, A Psalm [or] Song of David. Let God arise, let his enemies be scattered: let them also that hate him flee before him.
And they said, Go to, let us build us a city and a tower, whose top [may reach] unto heaven; and let us make us a name, lest we be scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth.
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