THIS IS A LAMENTATION
THY MOTHER IS LIKE
A VINE IN THY BLOOD,
PLANTED BY THE WATERS:
SHE WAS FRUITFUL AND FULL
OF BRANCHES
BY REASON OF MANY WATERS.
AND
SHE HAD STRONG RODS
FOR THE SCEPTRES OF THEM
THAT BARE RULE,
AND
HER STATURE WAS EXALTED
AMONG THE THICK BRANCHES,
AND
SHE APPEARED IN HER HEIGHT
WITH THE MULTITUDE OF HER
BRANCHES.
BUT SHE WAS
PLUCKED UP IN FURY,
SHE WAS CAST DOWN
TO THE GROUND,
AND
THE EAST WIND DRIED
UP HER FRUIT:
HER STRONG RODS
WERE BROKEN AND WITHERED;
THE FIRE CONSUMED THEM.
AND NOW
SHE IS PLANTED
IN THE WILDERNESS,
IN A DRY AND THIRSTY GROUND.
AND
AND
FIRE IS GONE OUT OF A ROD
OF HER BRANCHES,
WHICH HATH DEVOURED HER FRUIT,
SO THAT SHE HATH NO STRONG
ROD TO BE A SCEPTRE TO RULE.
THIS IS A LAMENTATION,
AND
SHALL BE FOR A LAMENTATION.
LOVE
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