Ephraim'shall say , What have I to do any more with idols? I have answered, and will regard him: I am like a green fir-tree; from me is thy fruit found.

Ephraim is smitten, their root is dried up, they shall bear no fruit: yea, though they bring forth, yet will I slay the beloved fruit of their womb.

Israel is a luxuriant vine, that putteth forth his fruit: according to the abundance of his fruit he hath multiplied his altars; according to the goodness of their land they have made goodly pillars.