^{13 Ref} Pangs of a travailing woman come to him, He `is' a son not wise, For he remaineth not the time for the breaking forth of sons.

^{14 Ref} From the hand of Sheol I do ransom them, From death I redeem them, Where `is' thy plague, O death? Where thy destruction, O Sheol? Repentance is hid from Mine eyes.