Strike the horn upon the hill, and the trumpet upon the height: make a loud noise at the house of vanity after thee, O Benjamin.

For they shall sow the wind, and they shall reap the whirlwind: no stalk to it: the sprout shall not make flour: perhaps it will make, strangers will swallow it down.

Ephraim was smitten, their root was dried up, they shall not make fruit: also if they shall bring forth, and I destroyed the desires of their womb.

And he will be a leader to the messenger, and he will prevail: he wept, and he will make supplication to him: in the house of God he will find him, and there he will speak with him.

And now they will add to sin, and they will make to them a molten image of their silver, in their understanding images the work of artificers all of it: they saying to them, The men sacrificing shall kiss the calves.