Brenton(i)
1 Alas for me! for I am become as one gathering straw in harvest, and as one gathering grape-gleanings in the vintage, when there is no cluster for me to eat the first-ripe fruit: alas my soul!
2 For the godly is perished from the earth; and there is none among men that orders his way aright: they all quarrel even to blood: they grievously afflict every one his neighbour:
3 they prepare their hands for mischief, the prince asks a reward, and the judge speaks flattering words; it is the desire of their soul:
4 therefore I will take away their goods as a devouring moth, and as one who acts by a rigid rule in a day of visitation. Woe, woe, thy times of vengeance are come; now shall be their lamentations.
5 Trust not in friends, and confide not in guides: beware of thy wife, so as not to commit anything to her.
6 For the son dishonours his father, the daughter will rise up against her mother, the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law: those in his house shall be all a man's enemies.