In the day of our king, the princes made themselves sick with the heat of wine: he stretched out his hand to scorners.

They have made kings, and not by Me, They have made princes, and I have not known, Their silver and their gold they have made to them idols, So that they are cut off.

And made desolate her vine and her fig-tree, Of which she said, A gift they are to me, That my lovers have given to me, And I have made them for a forest, And consumed them hath a beast of the field.