¹Woe to the city of blood, She is all with lies—burglary—full, Prey doth not depart. ²The sound of a whip, And the sound of the rattling of a wheel, And of a prancing horse, and of a bounding chariot, Of a horseman mounting. ³And the flame of a sword, and the lightning of a spear, And the abundance of the wounded, And the weight of carcases, Yea, there is no end to the bodies, They stumble over their bodies. ⁴Because of the abundance of the fornications of an harlot, The goodness of the grace of the lady of witchcrafts, Who is selling nations by her fornications, And families by her witchcrafts. ⁵Lo, I am against thee, An affirmation of Jehovah of Hosts, And have removed thy skirts before thy face, And have shewed nations thy nakedness, And kingdoms thy shame, ⁶And I have cast upon thee abominations, And dishonoured thee, and made thee as a sight. ⁷And it hath come to pass, Each of thy beholders fleeth from thee, And hath said: ‘Spoiled is Nineveh, Who doth bemoan for her?’ Whence do I seek comforters for thee?

Read in Logos

Public Domain.