Those sitting at the gate meditate concerning me, And those drinking strong drink, Play on instruments.

For a cup is in the hand of Jehovah, And the wine hath foamed, It is full of mixture, and He poureth out of it, Only its dregs wring out, and drink, Do all the wicked of the earth,

Thou hast shewn Thy people a hard thing, Thou hast caused us to drink wine of trembling.