And a highway hath been there, and a way, And the `way of holiness' is called to it, Not pass over it doth the unclean, And He Himself `is' by them, Whoso is going in the way -- even fools err not.
Pass ye on, pass on through the gates, Prepare ye the way of the people, Raise up, raise up the highway, clear it from stones, Lift up an ensign over the peoples.
But My people have forgotten Me, to a vain thing they make perfume, And they cause them to stumble in their ways -- paths of old, To walk in paths -- a way not raised up,