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22 The burden of the valley of vision. What aileth thee now, that thou art wholly gone up to the housetops?

Thou that wast full of stir, a town of tumult, a joyous city: thy slain men are not slain with the sword, nor dead in battle.

All thy rulers have fled together, they are taken prisoners without the bow: all that are found of thee are made prisoners together; they were fleeing far off.

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