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18 King of Assyria, your rulers are asleep.
    Your important men lie down to rest.
Your people have been scattered on the mountains.
    And there is no one to bring them back.
19 Nothing can heal your wound.
    Your injury will not heal.
Everyone who hears about you applauds
    because everyone has felt your endless cruelty.

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18 Thy shepherds slumber, O king of Assyria: thy nobles shall dwell in the dust: thy people is scattered upon the mountains, and no man gathereth them.

19 There is no healing of thy bruise; thy wound is grievous: all that hear the bruit of thee shall clap the hands over thee: for upon whom hath not thy wickedness passed continually?

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