¹⁹ Give not up to a company, The soul of Thy turtle-dove, The company of Thy poor ones forget not for ever.

¹⁴ My dove, in clefts of the rock, In a secret place of the ascent, Cause me to see thine appearance, Cause me to hear thy voice, For thy voice `is' sweet, and thy appearance comely.

¹⁰ Thy company have dwelt in it, Thou preparest in Thy goodness for the poor, O God.

⁵ Hearken, my brethren beloved, did not God choose the poor of this world, rich in faith, and heirs of the reign that He promised to those loving Him?

⁶ and ye did dishonour the poor one; do not the rich oppress you and themselves draw you to judgment-seats;

¹⁶ `Lo, I do send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves, be ye therefore wise as the serpents, and simple as the doves.

¹² And I have left in thy midst a people humble and poor, And they have trusted in the name of Jehovah.

⁸ Who `are' these -- as a thick cloud they fly, And as doves unto their windows?

⁹ One is my dove, my perfect one, One she `is' of her mother, The choice one she `is' of her that bare her, Daughters saw, and pronounce her happy, Queens and concubines, and they praise her.

¹ Lo, thou `art' fair, my friend, lo, thou `art' fair, Thine eyes `are' doves behind thy veil, Thy hair as a row of the goats That have shone from mount Gilead,

² He judgeth Thy people with righteousness, And Thy poor with judgment.

¹³ Though ye do lie between two boundaries, Wings of a dove covered with silver, And her pinions with yellow gold.

¹⁸ For not for ever is the needy forgotten, The hope of the humble lost to the age.