Ik zou, eer deese drift van winden,
En woede stormen my verslinden,
My haasten, om die rasch t'ontkoomen.
Verdeil hun tong, verslind dien raad,
Want, Heer, ik sag de stad, en staat,
Van twist, en wreevel, ingenoomen.
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Davids Psalmen · Joannes Six van Chandelier · Poetry Cove