Add parallel Print Page Options

18 Lo! my child, whom I have chosen, my darling, in whom it hath well pleased to my soul; I shall put my Spirit on him, and he shall tell doom to heathen men.

19 He shall not strive, nor cry, neither any man shall hear his voice in streets.

20 A bruised reed he shall not break, and he shall not quench smoking flax, till he cast out doom to victory;

Read full chapter