Woe to those saying to evil 'good,' And to good 'evil,' Putting darkness for light, and light for darkness, Putting bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter.

Butter and honey he doth eat, When he knoweth to refuse evil, and to fix on good.

And it hath come to pass, From the abundance of the yielding of milk he eateth butter, For butter and honey doth every one eat Who is left in the heart of the land.

Therefore I said, 'Look ye from me, I am bitter in my weeping, Haste not to comfort me, For the destruction of the daughter of my people.'

With a song they drink not wine, Bitter is strong drink to those drinking it.

Your perversion! as clay is the potter esteemed? That the work saith of its maker, 'He hath not made me?' And the framed thing said of its framer, 'He did not understand?'

I have stirred up one from the north, And he cometh, From the rising of the sun he calleth in My name, And he cometh in on prefects as on clay, And as a potter treadeth down mire.

I have given to them in My house, And within My walls a station and a name, Better than sons and than daughters, A name age-during I give to him That is not cut off.