¹⁴ Your new moons and your appointed feasts my soul hateth: they are a trouble unto me; I am weary to bear them.

²¹ I hate, I despise your feast days, and I will not smell in your solemn assemblies.

²⁴ Thou hast bought me no sweet cane with money, neither hast thou filled me with the fat of thy sacrifices: but thou hast made me to serve with thy sins, thou hast wearied me with thine iniquities.

¹⁷ Ye have wearied the Lord with your words. Yet ye say, Wherein have we wearied him? When ye say, Every one that doeth evil is good in the sight of the Lord, and he delighteth in them; or, Where is the God of judgment?

¹³ Behold, I am pressed under you, as a cart is pressed that is full of sheaves.