Thus saith the Lord: A voice was heard on high of lamentation, of mourning and weeping, of Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted for them, because they are not.
But if you will not hear this, my soul shall weep in secret for your pride: weeping it shall weep, and my eyes shall run down the tears, because the flock of the Lord is carried away captive.
Gird thee with sackcloth, O daughter of my people, and sprinkle thee with ashes: make thee mourning as for an only son, a bitter lamentation, because the destroyer shall suddenly come upon us.
My bowels, my bowels, are in pain, the senses of my heart are troubled within me. I will not hold my peace, for my soul hath heard the sound of the trumpet, the cry of battle.
Caph. My eyes have failed with weeping, my bowels are troubled: my liver is poured out upon the earth, for the destruction of the daughter of my people, when the children, and the sucklings, fainted away in the streets of the city.
And they shall shave themselves bald for thee and shall be girded with haircloth: and they shall weep for thee with bitterness of soul, with most bitter weeping.