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Purer than snow were her princes,[a]
    whiter than milk,
their bodies more ruddy than rubies,
    their appearance like sapphire.
Their form has become darker than soot!
    They are not recognized in the street.
Their skin has shriveled on their bones,
    withered like a tree.
Better are those slain by the sword
    than those struck down by famine—
they waste away, racked with pain,
    for lack of fruits of the field.

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Footnotes

  1. Lamentations 4:7 Or, Nazirite, consecrated ones.