¹⁹ O deliver not the soul of thy turtledove unto the multitude of the wicked: forget not the congregation of thy poor for ever.

¹⁴ O my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the stairs, let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice; for sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.

¹⁰ Thy congregation hath dwelt therein: thou, O God, hast prepared of thy goodness for the poor.

⁵ Hearken, my beloved brethren, Hath not God chosen the poor of this world rich in faith, and heirs of the kingdom which he hath promised to them that love him?

⁶ But ye have despised the poor. Do not rich men oppress you, and draw you before the judgment seats?

¹⁶ Behold, I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves: be ye therefore wise as serpents, and harmless as doves.

¹² I will also leave in the midst of thee an afflicted and poor people, and they shall trust in the name of the LORD.

⁸ Who are these that fly as a cloud, and as the doves to their windows?

⁹ My dove, my undefiled is but one; she is the only one of her mother, she is the choice one of her that bare her. The daughters saw her, and blessed her; yea, the queens and the concubines, and they praised her.

¹ Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves' eyes within thy locks: thy hair is as a flock of goats, that appear from mount Gilead.

² He shall judge thy people with righteousness, and thy poor with judgment.

¹³ Though ye have lien among the pots, yet shall ye be as the wings of a dove covered with silver, and her feathers with yellow gold.

¹⁸ For the needy shall not alway be forgotten: the expectation of the poor shall not perish for ever.