And for all ships of Tarshish, And for all desirable pictures.

The Burden of Tyre. Howl, ye ships of Tarshish, For it hath been destroyed, Without house, without entrance, From the land of Chittim it was revealed to them.

Pass over to Tarshish, howl, ye inhabitants of the isle,

Pass through thy land as a brook, Daughter of Tarshish, there is no more a girdle.

Howl, ye ships of Tarshish, For your strength hath been destroyed.

Surely for Me isles do wait, And ships of Tarshish first, To bring thy sons from afar, Their silver and their gold with them, To the name of Jehovah thy God, And to the Holy One of Israel, Because He hath beautified thee.

And I have set among them a sign, And have sent out of them those escaping unto the nations, (Tarshish, Pul, and Lud, drawing bow, Tubal and Javan, the isles that are far off,) Who have not heard My fame, nor seen Mine honour, And they have declared Mine honour among nations.