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I will scatter them with a winnowing fork at the gates of the land.
I will make them childless.
I will destroy my people,
because they have not changed their ways.
I will make their widows more numerous than the sand on the seashore.
At noon I will bring a destroyer against the mothers of their
        young men.
I will bring anguish and terror down on them suddenly.
The mother of seven will grow faint.
She will breathe her last.
Her sun will set while it is still day,
and she will be ashamed and humiliated.
The survivors I will put to the sword in the presence of their enemies,
        declares the Lord.

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