Treasury of Scripture Knowledge
My anguish, my anguish! I am pained at my very heart; my heart is disquieted in me; I can't hold my peace; because you have heard, O my soul, the sound of the trumpet, the alarm of war.
Oh that my head were waters, and my eyes a spring of tears, that I might weep day and night for the slain of the daughter of my people!
You shall say this word to them, Let my eyes run down with tears night and day, and let them not cease; for the virgin daughter of my people is broken with a great breach, with a very grievous wound.
As for me, I have not hurried from being a shepherd after you; neither have I desired the woeful day; you know: that which came out of my lips was before your face.
I said to the king, "Let the king live forever! Why shouldn't my face be sad, when the city, the place of my fathers' tombs, lies waste, and its gates have been consumed with fire?"
For there, those who led us captive asked us for songs. Those who tormented us demanded songs of joy: "Sing us one of the songs of Zion!"
When he drew near, he saw the city and wept over it,
I tell the truth in Christ. I am not lying, my conscience testifying with me in the Holy Spirit,
Song of Songs 1:5
I am dark, but lovely, you daughters of Jerusalem, like Kedar's tents, like Solomon's curtains.
At their presence the peoples are in anguish. All faces have grown pale.
She is empty, void, and waste. The heart melts, the knees knock together, their bodies and faces have grown pale.