Because the yoke of its burden, And the staff of its shoulder, the rod of its exactor, Thou hast broken as in the day of Midian.

And awaking for him is Jehovah of Hosts, A scourge like the smiting of Midian at the rock Oreb, And his rod is over the sea, And he hath lifted it in the way of Egypt.

A company of camels covereth thee, Dromedaries of Midian and Ephah, All of them from Sheba do come, Gold and frankincense they bear, And of the praises of Jehovah they proclaim the tidings.