My soul, my soul! I am pained at my very heart; my heart makes a noise in me; I cannot hold my peace, because you have heard, O my soul, the sound of the trumpet, the alarm of war.

My tent is plundered, and all my cords are broken: my children are gone forth from me, and they are not: there is none to stretch forth my tent anymore, and to set up my curtains.

And it shall come to pass, if they will diligently learn the ways of my people, to swear by my name, The LORD lives; as they taught my people to swear by Baal; then shall they be built in the midst of my people.