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the milk frothed in pools at my feet, no rock so hard but my olives bathed it in oil. (Job 29, 6)
Still my heart is in turmoil, greeted still by fresh despairs; (Job 30, 27)
doted I upon my great riches, upon all my toil had earned? (Job 31, 25)
If he should leave them in chains, caught in the toils of sore need, (Job 36, 8)
Is that skin a spoil for the net, that head for the fishermen’s cabins? (Job 40, 26)
he makes the deep sea boil like a pot where ointment simmers; (Job 41, 22)
What means this turmoil among the nations? Why do the peoples cherish vain dreams? (Psalms 2, 1)
crying, Let us break away from their bondage, rid ourselves of the toils! (Psalms 2, 3)
All his spite will recoil on himself, all his violence will fall his own head. (Psalms 7, 17)
to exult in thy saving power. The heathen have been caught in their own deadly devices; their feet have been trapped in the very toils they had laid; (Psalms 9, 16)
So he catches him in the toils; stands there bowing and scraping,✻ till the prey falls by his onset. (Psalms 9, 31)
the grave had caught me in its toils, deadly snares had trapped my feet. (Psalms 17, 6)
