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Babylon’s Fall

47 

Go down and sit in the dust, you virgin daughter of Babylon.
Sit on the ground without a throne, daughter of the Chaldeans,
for you will never again be called delicate and pampered.
Take millstones and grind meal.
Remove your veil. Strip off your skirt.
Expose your thighs. Wade through rivers.
Let your nakedness be exposed.
Let your shame be seen!
I will take vengeance.
I will not spare anyone.

Our Redeemer—the Lord of Armies is his name—is the Holy One of Israel.

Daughter of the Chaldeans, sit silently, and enter into the darkness,
for you will never again be called queen of the kingdoms.
I was angry with my people.
I defiled my heritage.
I gave them into your hand.
You showed them no mercy.
Even on the aged you made your yoke very heavy.
You said, “I will be a lady forever.”
You did not take these things to heart.
You did not remember how this will turn out.

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