And I have cut off a judge from her midst, And all its heads I slay with him, said Jehovah.

And perished hath refuge from the swift, And the strong strengtheneth not his power, And the mighty delivereth not his soul.

And the handler of the bow standeth not, And the swift with his feet delivereth not himself, And the rider of the horse delivereth not his soul.

Saying, When doth the new moon pass, And we sell ground corn? And the sabbath, and we open out pure corn? To make little the ephah, And to make great the shekel, And to use perversely balances of deceit.

To purchase with money the poor, And the needy for a pair of sandals, Yea, the refuse of the pure corn we sell.

I have seen the Lord standing by the altar, and He saith: 'Smite the knob, and the thresholds shake, And cut them off by the head -- all of them, And their posterity with a sword I do slay, Not flee to them doth the fleer, Nor escape to them doth a fugitive.