Wail, O gate; cry, O city; you, all of Philistia, are dissolved: for there shall come from the north a smoke, and none shall be alone in his appointed times.

And it shall come to pass, that your choicest valleys shall be full of chariots, and the horsemen shall set themselves in array at the gate.

In the city is left desolation, and the gate is stricken with destruction.

And for a spirit of justice to him that sits in judgment, and for strength to them that turn back the battle at the gate.

That make a man an offender for a word, and lay a snare for him that reproves in the gate, and turn aside the just for a thing of nothing.