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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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18 Thy shepherds slumber, O king of Assyria; thy nobles are at rest; thy people are scattered upon the mountains, and there is none to gather them. 19 There is no assuaging of thy hurt; thy wound is grievous: all that hear the report of thee clap their hands over thee; for upon whom hath not thy wickedness passed continually?

Read full chapter