Go on do his sucklings, And his beauty is as an olive, And he hath fragrance as Lebanon.

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.

As grapes in a wilderness I found Israel, As the first-fruit in a fig-tree, at its beginning, I have seen your fathers, They -- they have gone in to Baal-Peor, And are separated to a shameful thing, And are become abominable like their love.

O Ephraim, what to Me any more with idols? I -- I afflicted, and I cause him to sing: 'I am as a green fir-tree,' From Me is thy fruit found.