Ah! That my grief is past comfort(385) 18 Faints on me my heart, Lo, hark to the cry of my people Wide o’er the land.(386) “Is the Lord not in Ṣion, 19 Is there no king?(387) [Why have they vexed Me with idols, Foreigners’ fancies?](388) “Harvest is past, summer is ended, 20 And we are not saved!” For the breaking of the daughter of my people 21 I break, I blacken! Horror hath fastened upon me Pangs as of her that beareth.(389) Is there no balm in Gilead, 22 Is there no healer? Why do the wounds never close(390) Of the daughter of my people? Oh that my head were waters, IX. 1 Mine eyes a fountain of tears, That day and night I might weep For the slain of my people! There follows an Oracle in a very different mood. In the previous one the Prophet has taken his people to his heart, in spite of their sin and its havoc; in this he repels and would be quit of them. O that I had in the desert 2 A wayfarers’(391) lodge! Then would I leave my people, And get away from them, For adulterers all they be, A bundle(392) of traitors! Their tongue they stretch 3 Like a treacherous bow,(?) And never for truth Use their power in the land, But from evil to evil go forth And Me they know not.(393) Be on guard with your friends, 4 Trust not your(394) brothers, For brothers are all very Jacobs, And friends gad about to defame. Every one cheateth his neighbour, 5 They cannot speak truth. Their tongues they have trained to falsehood, They strain to be naughty— Wrong upon wrong, deceit on deceit(?) 6 Refusing to know Me.(395) Therefore thus saith the Lord:(396) 7 Lo, I will smelt them, will test them. How else should I do In face of the evil ...(397)(?) Of the Daughter of My people? A deadly(398) shaft is their tongue 8 The words of their mouth(399) deceit; If peace any speak to his friend In his heart he lays ambush. Shall I not visit for such— 9 Rede of the Lord— Nor on a nation like this Myself take vengeance? Raise for the mountains a wail,(400) 10 For the meads of the pasture a dirge! They are waste, with never a man(401) Nor hear the lowing of cattle. From the birds of heaven to the beasts They have fled, they are gone. I will make Jerusalem heaps, 11 Of jackals the lair, And the townships of Judah lay waste, With never a dweller. Who is the man that is wise 12 To lay this to mind, As the mouth of the Lord hath told him, So to declare— The wherefore the country is perished, And waste as the desert, With none to pass over!