Jehovah is slow to anger, and great in power, and doth not at all clear the guilty: Jehovah, his way is in the whirlwind and in the storm, and the clouds are the dust of his feet.

Who shall stand before his indignation? and who shall abide in the fierceness of his anger? His fury is poured out like fire, and the rocks are broken asunder by him.

The shield of his mighty men is made red, the valiant men are in scarlet: the chariots glitter with the sheen of steel, in the day of his preparation, and the spears are brandished.

The gates of the rivers are opened, and the palace melteth away.

All thy strongholds are like fig-trees with the first-ripe figs: if they be shaken, they even fall into the mouth of the eater.

Behold, thy people in the midst of thee are as women: the gates of thy land are set wide open unto thine enemies; the fire devoureth thy bars.

Thy chosen men are as the locusts, and thy captains as swarms of grasshoppers, which camp in the hedges in the cold day: when the sun ariseth they flee away, and their place is not known where they are.

Thy shepherds slumber, O king of Assyria; thy nobles lie still; thy people are scattered upon the mountains, and no man gathereth them.