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18 Oh that I could comfort myself against sorrow!
    My heart is faint within me.
19 Behold, the voice of the cry of the daughter of my people from a land that is very far off:
    “Isn’t Yahweh in Zion?
    Isn’t her King in her?”

“Why have they provoked me to anger with their engraved images,
    and with foreign idols?”

20 “The harvest is past.
    The summer has ended,
    and we are not saved.”

21 For the hurt of the daughter of my people, I am hurt.
    I mourn.
    Dismay has taken hold of me.
22 Is there no balm in Gilead?
    Is there no physician there?
Why then isn’t the health of the daughter of my people recovered?

Oh that my head were waters,
    and my eyes a spring of tears,
that I might weep day and night
    for the slain of the daughter of my people!
Oh that I had in the wilderness
    a lodging place of wayfaring men;
that I might leave my people,
    and go from them!
For they are all adulterers,
    an assembly of treacherous men.