Their cry is as it were of a lion, and the roaring of them like lion's whelps. They shall roar, and haunch up the prey, and no man shall recover it or get it from them.

Woe be to the crown of pride, even to the drunken people of Ephraim, whose great pomp is as a flower that fadeth away upon the head of the valley of such as be in wealth, and are overladen with wine.

The same voice spake, "Now cry." And I said, "What shall I cry?" Then spake it, "That all flesh is grass, and that all the beauty thereof, is as the flower of the field.