Their heart cried unto the Lord. O wall of the daughter of Zion, let tears run down like a torrent day and night: give thyself no respite; let not the apple of thine eye rest.

For these things I weep; mine eye, mine eye runneth down with water: for the comforter that should revive my soul is far from me; my children are desolate, for the enemy hath prevailed.

He hath bent his bow like an enemy; he stood with his right hand as an adversary, and hath slain all that was pleasant to the eye: in the tent of the daughter of Zion, he hath poured out his fury like fire.

Mine eye runneth down with streams of water for the ruin of the daughter of my people.

Mine eye poureth down, and ceaseth not, without any intermission,

Mine eye affecteth my soul, because of all the daughters of my city.