Lo, thy people are women in thy midst, To thine enemies thoroughly opened Have been the gates of thy land, Consumed hath fire thy bars.

There consume thee doth a fire, Cut thee off doth a sword, It doth consume thee as a cankerworm! Make thyself heavy as the cankerworm, Make thyself heavy as the locust.

Who may endure before his wrath? Or who is able to abide his grim displeasure? His anger taketh on like fire, and the hard rocks burst in sunder before him.

The shield of his giants glistereth, his men of war are clothed in purple. His chariots are as fire when he maketh him forward, his archers are well decked and trimmed.

The chariots roll upon the streets, and welter in the highways. They are to look upon like cressettes of fire, and go swiftly as the lightning.

Behold, I will upon thee, sayeth the LORD of Hosts, and will set fire upon thy chariots that they shall smoke withal, and the sword shall devour thy young lions. I will make an end of thy spoiling from out of the earth, and the voice of thy messengers shall no more be heard.