Her gates are sunk into the ground. He has destroyed and broken her bars. Her king and her rulers are among the nations where the law is not. Yea, her prophets find no vision from LORD.
The ways of Zion mourn, because none come to the solemn assembly. All her gates are desolate. Her priests sigh. Her virgins are afflicted, and she herself is in bitterness.
How the city sits solitary, that was full of people! She has become as a widow, who was great among the nations! She who was a princess among the provinces has become tributary!
For the palace shall be forsaken. The populous city shall be deserted. The hill and the watch-tower shall be for dens forever, a joy of wild donkeys, a pasture of flocks,
Howl, O gate, cry, O city. Thou are melted away, O Philistia, all of thee. For there comes a smoke out of the north, and there is no straggler in his ranks.