For with hearts like an oven they approach their intrigue; all night their anger smolders; in the morning it blazes like a flaming fire.

They do not cry to me from the heart, but they wail upon their beds; for grain and wine they gash themselves; they rebel against me.

Their heart is false; now they must bear their guilt. The Lord will break down their altars and destroy their pillars.

How can I give you up, O Ephraim? How can I hand you over, O Israel? How can I make you like Admah? How can I treat you like Zeboiim? My heart recoils within me; my compassion grows warm and tender.

but when they had grazed, they became full, they were filled, and their heart was lifted up; therefore they forgot me.