Gird you, and make your moan, O ye priests: mourn ye ministers of the alter: go your way in, and sleep in sackcloth, O ye officers of my God: for the meat and drink offering shall be taken away from the house of your God.

They shall run like mighty men; they shall climb the wall like men of war; and they shall march every one on his ways, and they shall not break their ranks:

And each his brother they press not, Each in his way they go on, If by the missile they fall, they are not cut off.

Let the priests, the servants of the Lord, be weeping between the covered way and the altar, and let them say, Have mercy on your people, O Lord, do not give up your heritage to shame, so that the nations become their rulers: why let them say among the peoples, Where is their God?