Now was it not, One, who made you who had, the residue of the spirit? What, then, of that One? He was seeking a godly seed. Therefore should ye take heed to your spirit, and, with the wife of thy youth, do not thou deal treacherously.
So will I turn your festivals into mourning, and all your songs into a dirge, and I will bring up—on all loins—sackcloth, and upon every head—baldness,—and I will make it like the mourning for an only one, even the afterpart thereof, as a day of bitterness.
The ways to Zion, are mourning, because none come to her appointed feasts, All her gates, are desolate, her priests, are sighing,—her virgins, are grieved, and, she, it is bitter for her.