King James VersionLamentations4


1 How is the gold be­come dim! how is the most fine gold changed! the stones of the sanc­tu­ary are poured out in the top of ev­ery street. 2 The pre­cious sons of Zion, com­pa­ra­ble to fine gold, how are they es­teemed as earth­en pitch­ers, the work of the hands of the pot­ter! 3 Even the sea mon­sters draw out the breast, they give suck to their young ones: the daugh­ter of my peo­ple is become cru­el, like the os­trich­es in the wilder­ness. 4 The tongue of the suck­ing child cleaveth to the roof of his mouth for thirst: the young chil­dren ask bread, and no man breaketh it unto them. 5 They that did feed del­i­cate­ly are des­o­late in the streets: they that were brought up in scar­let em­brace dunghills. 6 For the pun­ish­ment of the in­iq­ui­ty of the daugh­ter of my peo­ple is greater than the pun­ish­ment of the sin of Sodom, that was over­thrown as in a mo­ment, and no hands stayed on her. 7 Her Nazarites were pur­er than snow, they were whiter than milk, they were more rud­dy in body than ru­bies, their pol­ish­ing was of sap­phire: 8 Their vis­age is black­er than a coal; they are not known in the streets: their skin cleaveth to their bones; it is with­ered, it is be­come like a stick. 9 They that be slain with the sword are bet­ter than they that be slain with hunger: for these pine away, strick­en through for want of the fruits of the field. 10 The hands of the piti­ful wom­en have sod­den their own chil­dren: they were their meat in the de­struc­tion of the daugh­ter of my peo­ple. 11 The LORD hath ac­com­plished his fury; he hath poured out his fierce anger, and hath kin­dled a fire in Zion, and it hath de­voured the foun­da­tions there­of. 12 The kings of the earth, and all the in­hab­i­tants of the world, would not have be­lieved that the ad­ver­sary and the en­e­my should have en­tered into the gates of Jerusalem. 13 For the sins of her prophets, and the in­iq­ui­ties of her priests, that have shed the blood of the just in the midst of her, 14 They have wan­dered as blind men in the streets, they have pol­lut­ed them­selves with blood, so that men could not touch their gar­ments. 15 They cried unto them, De­part ye; it is un­clean; de­part, de­part, touch not: when they fled away and wan­dered, they said among the hea­then, They shall no more so­journ there. 16 The anger of the LORD hath di­vid­ed them; he will no more re­gard them: they re­spect­ed not the per­sons of the priests, they favoured not the el­ders. 17 As for us, our eyes as yet failed for our vain help: in our watch­ing we have watched for a na­tion that could not save us. 18 They hunt our steps, that we can­not go in our streets: our end is near, our days are ful­filled; for our end is come. 19 Our per­se­cu­tors are swifter than the ea­gles of the heav­en: they pur­sued us upon the moun­tains, they laid wait for us in the wilder­ness. 20 The breath of our nos­trils, the anoint­ed of the LORD, was tak­en in their pits, of whom we said, Un­der his shad­ow we shall live among the hea­then. 21 Re­joice and be glad, O daugh­ter of Edom, that dwellest in the land of Uz; the cup also shall pass through unto thee: thou shalt be drunk­en, and shalt make thy­self naked. 22 The pun­ish­ment of thine in­iq­ui­ty is ac­com­plished, O daugh­ter of Zion; he will no more car­ry thee away into cap­tiv­i­ty: he will vis­it thine in­iq­ui­ty, O daugh­ter of Edom; he will dis­cov­er thy sins.