The lips of those that rose up against me, and their device against me all the day.
Behold their sitting down, and their rising up; I [am] their musick.
Render unto them a recompence, O LORD, according to the work of their hands.
Give them sorrow of heart, thy curse unto them.
Persecute and destroy them in anger from under the heavens of the LORD.
How is the gold become dim! [how] is the most fine gold changed! the stones of the sanctuary are poured out in the top of every street.
The precious sons of Zion, comparable to fine gold, how are they esteemed as earthen pitchers, the work of the hands of the potter!
Even the sea monsters draw out the breast, they give suck to their young ones: the daughter of my people [is become] cruel, like the ostriches in the wilderness.
The tongue of the sucking child cleaveth to the roof of his mouth for thirst: the young children ask bread, [and] no man breaketh [it] unto them.
They that did feed delicately are desolate in the streets: they that were brought up in scarlet embrace dunghills.
