14 I cried like a swift or thrush,
    I moaned like a mourning dove.(A)
My eyes grew weak(B) as I looked to the heavens.
    I am being threatened; Lord, come to my aid!”(C)

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16 The fugitives(A) who escape
    will flee to the mountains.
Like doves(B) of the valleys,
    they will all moan,
    each for their own sins.(C)

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