King James VersionIsaiah14

Isaiah

1 For the LORD will have mer­cy on Ja­cob, and will yet choose Is­rael, and set them in their own land: and the strangers shall be joined with them, and they shall cleave to the house of Ja­cob. 2 And the peo­ple shall take them, and bring them to their place: and the house of Is­rael shall pos­sess them in the land of the LORD for ser­vants and hand­maids: and they shall take them cap­tives, whose cap­tives they were; and they shall rule over their op­pres­sors. 3 And it shall come to pass in the day that the LORD shall give thee rest from thy sor­row, and from thy fear, and from the hard bondage where­in thou wast made to serve, 4 That thou shalt take up this proverb against the king of Baby­lon, and say, How hath the op­pres­sor ceased! the gold­en city ceased! 5 The LORD hath bro­ken the staff of the wicked, and the scep­tre of the rulers. 6 He who smote the peo­ple in wrath with a con­tin­u­al stroke, he that ruled the na­tions in anger, is per­se­cut­ed, and none hin­dereth. 7 The whole earth is at rest, and is qui­et: they break forth into singing. 8 Yea, the fir trees re­joice at thee, and the cedars of Lebanon, saying, Since thou art laid down, no feller is come up against us. 9 Hell from be­neath is moved for thee to meet thee at thy com­ing: it stir­reth up the dead for thee, even all the chief ones of the earth; it hath raised up from their thrones all the kings of the na­tions. 10 All they shall speak and say unto thee, Art thou also be­come weak as we? art thou be­come like unto us? 11 Thy pomp is brought down to the grave, and the noise of thy vi­o­ls: the worm is spread un­der thee, and the worms cov­er thee. 12 How art thou fall­en from heav­en, O Lu­cifer, son of the morn­ing! how art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weak­en the na­tions! 13 For thou hast said in thine heart, I will as­cend into heav­en, I will ex­alt my throne above the stars of God: I will sit also upon the mount of the con­gre­ga­tion, in the sides of the north: 14 I will as­cend above the heights of the clouds; I will be like the most High. 15 Yet thou shalt be brought down to hell, to the sides of the pit. 16 They that see thee shall nar­row­ly look upon thee, and con­sid­er thee, say­ing, Is this the man that made the earth to trem­ble, that did shake king­doms; 17 That made the world as a wilder­ness, and de­stroyed the cities there­of; that opened not the house of his pris­on­ers? 18 All the kings of the na­tions, even all of them, lie in glo­ry, ev­ery one in his own house. 19 But thou art cast out of thy grave like an abom­inable branch, and as the rai­ment of those that are slain, thrust through with a sword, that go down to the stones of the pit; as a car­case trod­den un­der feet. 20 Thou shalt not be joined with them in buri­al, be­cause thou hast de­stroyed thy land, and slain thy peo­ple: the seed of evil­do­ers shall nev­er be renowned. 21 Pre­pare slaugh­ter for his chil­dren for the in­iq­ui­ty of their fa­thers; that they do not rise, nor pos­sess the land, nor fill the face of the world with cities. 22 For I will rise up against them, saith the LORD of hosts, and cut off from Baby­lon the name, and rem­nant, and son, and nephew, saith the LORD. 23 I will also make it a pos­ses­sion for the bit­tern, and pools of wa­ter: and I will sweep it with the be­som of de­struc­tion, saith the LORD of hosts. 24 The LORD of hosts hath sworn, say­ing, Sure­ly as I have thought, so shall it come to pass; and as I have pur­posed, so shall it stand: 25 That I will break the As­syr­i­an in my land, and upon my moun­tains tread him un­der foot: then shall his yoke de­part from off them, and his bur­den de­part from off their shoul­ders. 26 This is the pur­pose that is pur­posed upon the whole earth: and this is the hand that is stretched out upon all the na­tions. 27 For the LORD of hosts hath pur­posed, and who shall dis­an­nul it? and his hand is stretched out, and who shall turn it back? 28 In the year that king Ahaz died was this bur­den. 29 Re­joice not thou, whole Palesti­na, be­cause the rod of him that smote thee is bro­ken: for out of the serpent's root shall come forth a cock­a­trice, and his fruit shall be a fiery fly­ing ser­pent. 30 And the first­born of the poor shall feed, and the needy shall lie down in safe­ty: and I will kill thy root with famine, and he shall slay thy rem­nant. 31 Howl, O gate; cry, O city; thou, whole Palesti­na, art dis­solved: for there shall come from the north a smoke, and none shall be alone in his ap­point­ed times. 32 What shall one then an­swer the mes­sen­gers of the na­tion? That the LORD hath found­ed Zion, and the poor of his peo­ple shall trust in it.