Now, therefore, will I expose her unseemliness, before the eyes of her lovers, - and no, man, shall deliver her out of my hand!

In the day of our king, the rulers, have made themselves ill, with the heat of wine, - he hath extended his hand with scoffers.

A trafficker! in his hand, are balances of deceit, to oppress, he loveth.

And I will lay my word upon the prophets, yea, I myself, have magnified, vision, - and, by the hand of the prophets, will I use similitudes.

Out of the hand of hades, will I ransom them, out of death, will I redeem them, - Where is thy pestilence, O death? Where thy plague, O hades? Repentance, shall be hid from mine eyes.