Come down and sit in the dust, virgin-daughter of Babylon! Sit on the ground, there is no throne, O daughter of the Chaldeans; for thou shalt no more be called tender and delicate.

For he shall grow up before him as a tender sapling, and as a root out of dry ground: he hath no form nor lordliness, and when we see him, there is no beauty that we should desire him.

Look down from the heavens, and behold from the habitation of thy holiness and of thy glory! Where is thy zeal and thy strength, the sounding of thy bowels and of thy tender mercies? Are they restrained toward me?