Therefore doth law cease, And judgment doth not go forth for ever, For the wicked is compassing the righteous, Therefore wrong judgment goeth forth.

For, lo, I am raising up the Chaldeans, The bitter and hasty nation, That is going to the broad places of earth, To occupy tabernacles not its own.

For yet the vision is for a season, And it breatheth for the end, and doth not lie, If it tarry, wait for it, For surely it cometh, it is not late.

Lo, a presumptuous one! Not upright is his soul within him, And the righteous by his stedfastness liveth.

Lo, is it not from Jehovah of Hosts And peoples are fatigued for fire, And nations for vanity are weary?

Woe to him who is saying to wood, 'Awake,' 'Stir up,' to a dumb stone, It a teacher! lo, it is overlaid -- gold and silver, And there is no spirit in its midst.