Plunder the silver, plunder the gold; for there is no end of the splendid store of all precious vessels.

There shall the fire devour thee; the sword shall cut thee off; it shall devour thee like the cankerworm. Make thyself many as the cankerworm, make thyself many as the locust.

There is no healing of thy breach; thy wound is grievous; all that hear the report of thee clap the hands over thee; for upon whom hath not thy wickedness passed continually?