The oracle on Tyre, - Howl! ye ships of Tarshish, For it is laid too waste to be a haven to enter, From the land of Cyprus, hath it been unveiled to them.

Like the report of Egypt, They shall be in pangs at the like report of Tyre.

Who hath purposed this, against Tyre, The bestower of crowns, - Whose merchants are princes, Her traders the honourable of the earth?

So shall it be in that day, That Tyre shall be forgotten seventy years, According to the days of a certain king: At the end of seventy years, shall it befall Tyre according to the song of the harlot:

So shall it be, at the end of seventy years, That Yahweh will visit Tyre, And she will return to her hire, - Yea she will play the harlot - with all the kingdoms of the earth, upon the face of the ground.