Jeremiah 4:19–31

^19rMy bowels, my bowels! I am pained at my very heart;

^sMy heart maketh a noise in me; I cannot hold my peace,

Because thou hast heard, O my soul, ^tthe sound of the trumpet, ^ttthe alarm of war.

^20uDestruction upon destruction is cried; for the whole land is spoiled:

Suddenly are ^vmy tents spoiled, and ^vmy curtains in a moment.

²¹How long shall I see the standard, and hear ^tthe sound of the trumpet?

²²For my people is foolish, ^wthey have not known me;

They are sottish children, and they have none understanding:

^xThey are wise to do evil, but to do good they have no knowledge.

^23yI beheld the earth, and lo, it was ^zwithout form, and void;

And the heavens, and ^athey had no light.

²⁴I beheld ^bthe mountains, and lo, they trembled,

And all the hills moved lightly.

²⁵I beheld, and lo, ^cthere was no man,

And ^call the birds of the heavens ^dwere fled.

²⁶I beheld, and lo, ^ethe fruitful place was a wilderness,

And all the cities thereof were broken down

At the presence of the Lord, and by his ^ffierce anger.

²⁷For thus hath the Lord said,

The whole land shall be desolate;

Yet ^gwill I not make a full end.

²⁸For this ^hshall the earth mourn, and ^aithe heavens above be black:

Because I have spoken it, I have purposed it,

And ^kwill not repent, neither will I turn back from it.

²⁹The whole city shall flee for the noise of the horsemen and ^lbowmen;

They shall go into thickets, and climb up upon ^mthe rocks:

Every city shall be forsaken, and ⁿnot a man dwell therein.

³⁰And ^owhen thou art spoiled, what wilt thou do?

Though thou clothest thyself with crimson, though thou ^pdeckest thee with ornaments of gold,

Though thou rentest ^qthy face with painting, in vain ^rshalt thou make thyself fair;

Thy ^slovers ^twill despise thee, they will seek thy life.

³¹For I have heard a voice as of ^ua woman in travail, and the anguish as of her that bringeth forth her first child,

The voice of the daughter of Zion, that bewaileth herself, that ^vspreadeth her hands,

^wSaying, Woe is me now! for my soul is wearied because of murderers.

V.