Your silver has become dross, your wine mixed with water.
All the wicked of the earth thou dost count as dross; therefore I love thy testimonies.
How the faithful city has become a harlot, she that was full of justice! Righteousness lodged in her, but now murderers.
Your princes are rebels and companions of thieves. Every one loves a bribe and runs after gifts. They do not defend the fatherless, and the widow's cause does not come to them.
A band of drunkards, they give themselves to harlotry; they love shame more than their glory.
What shall I do with you, O Ephraim? What shall I do with you, O Judah? Your love is like a morning cloud, like the dew that goes early away.
For we are not, like so many, peddlers of God's word; but as men of sincerity, as commissioned by God, in the sight of God we speak in Christ.