²⁹ At the voice of the horsemen, and the archers, all the city is fled away; they have entered into thickets and have climbed up the rocks: all the cities are forsaken, and there dwelleth not a man in them.

³⁰ But when thou art spoiled what wilt thou do? though thou deckest thee with ornaments of gold, and paintest thy eyes with stibic stone, thou shalt dress thyself out in vain: thy lovers have despised thee, they will seek thy life.

³¹ For I have heard the voice as of a woman in travail, anguishes as of a woman in labor of a child. The voice of the daughter of Sion, dying away, spreading her hands: Woe is me, for my soul hath fainted because of them that are slain.