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18 Your shepherds are asleep,
    O king of Assyria;
    your nobles slumber.
Your people are scattered on the mountains
    with no one to gather them.(A)
19 There is no assuaging your hurt;
    your wound is mortal.
All who hear the news about you
    clap their hands over you.
For who has ever escaped
    your endless cruelty?(B)

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18 Hey king of Assyria! Your shepherds are asleep
    and your nobles are lying down!
Your people lie scattered on the mountains,
    and there is no one to gather them together.
19 There is no healing for your injury—
    your wound is fatal.
Everyone who hears about you will applaud,
    because who hasn’t escaped your endless evil?”

Read full chapter