Psalms

My soul cleaveth unto the dust: quicken thou me according to thy word.

And thou shalt be brought down, and shalt speak out of the ground, and thy speech shall be low out of the dust, and thy voice shall be, as of one that hath a familiar spirit, out of the ground, and thy speech shall whisper out of the dust.

They that did feed delicately are desolate in the streets: they that were brought up in scarlet embrace dunghills.

But I will put it into the hand of them that afflict thee; which have said to thy soul, Bow down, that we may go over: and thou hast laid thy body as the ground, and as the street, to them that went over.

Thou broughtest us into the net; thou laidst affliction upon our loins.