My heart shall call out to Moab; his fugitives flee to Zoar like a three year old heifer. He goes up the ascent to Luhith with weeping; for in the way of Horonaim they shall raise up an outcry of destruction.

Look down from Heaven, and look down from the place of Your holiness and of Your glory. Where is Your zeal and Your strength, the multitude of Your tender affections and of Your mercies toward me? Are they restrained?

My stomach, my stomach! I am convulsed to my heart! My heart groans within me; I cannot be silent because you have heard, O my soul, the sound of the shofar, the alarm of war.

Is Ephraim My dear son? Is he a delightful child? For as often as I spoke against him, I call to mind and remember him still. Therefore My heart is stirred for him; I will have mercy and compassion upon him, says Jehovah.

Therefore my heart shall mourn for Moab like flutes, and my heart shall mourn like flutes for the men of Kir-hares, because the riches that he has gotten have perished.

How shall I give you up, Ephraim? Shall I deliver you up, Israel? How shall I make you like Admah? Shall I set you as Zeboim? My heart churns within Me; My compassions are kindled together.

Therefore if there is any consolation in Christ, if any comfort of love, if any fellowship of the Spirit, if any affection and mercy,