7 Gird, I pray thee, as a man, thy loins, I ask thee, and cause thou Me to know.
8 Dost thou also make void My judgment? Dost thou condemn Me, That thou mayest be righteous?
9 And an arm like God hast thou? And with a voice like Him dost thou thunder?
10 Put on, I pray thee, excellency and loftiness, Yea, honour and beauty put on.
11 Scatter abroad the wrath of thine anger, And see every proud one, and make him low.
12 See every proud one--humble him, And tread down the wicked in their place.
13 Hide them in the dust together, Their faces bind in secret.