For these things I weep; my eye, my eye runs down with water, because the comforter that should relieve my soul is far from me: my children are desolate, because the enemy prevailed.

They that are slain with the sword are better than they that are slain with hunger: for these pine away, stricken through for lack of the fruits of the field.

For this our heart is faint; for these things our eyes are dim.