Nations as the wasting of many waters are wasted, And He hath pushed against it, And it hath fled afar off, And been pursued as chaff of hills before wind, And as a rolling thing before a hurricane.
And as small dust hath been The multitude of those scattering thee, And as chaff passing on the multitude of the terrible, And it hath been at an instant -- suddenly.
Therefore they are as a cloud of the morning, And as dew, rising early, going away, As chaff tossed about out of a floor, And as smoke out of a window.
whose fan `is' in his hand, and he will thoroughly cleanse his floor, and will gather his wheat to the storehouse, but the chaff he will burn with fire unquenchable.'