Awake ye drunkardes, & weepe, howle all ye wine bibbers for lacke of newe wine: for it is cleane taken away from your mouth
Go to nowe ye riche men, weepe and howle on your wretchednesse that shall come vpon you.
Ther was a certaine riche man, whiche was clothed in purple & fine whyte, and fared very deliciously euery day.
And thei haue cast lottes for my people, and chaunged the boy for an harlot, and solde the gyrle for wine, that they might drynke
Girde your selues and lament O ye priestes, howle ye out ye ministers of the aulter, come and lye all night in sackcloth ye seruauntes of my God: for the meate and drynke offerynges are taken away from the house of your God
Be ye ashamed O ye husbandemen, howle O ye wine dressers for ye wheate and for the barly: for the haruest of the fielde is perished
Thou sonne of man prophecie, and speake, thus sayth the Lorde God, howle, wo worth this day
Wherfore girde your selues about with sackcloth, mourne and weepe: for the fearefull wrath of the Lorde is not withdrawen from vs