Isaiah - Ferrar Fenton Bible Translation page 430
The Books of the Prophets
ISAIAH.
Ovz xg, Boox I.
CH, I3,
14
I0 I2 16 18 And the gorilla shall dance! And her widowhood Hyeuas mourn, And snakes in her Temples delight! And soon it will come, For her period shall not be for long. For the LORD will have pity on jacob, And Israel once more will select, And comfort them on their own land. And the stranger shall gather to them, And cling to the household of jacob, And our tribes take them and bear to their homes, When lQsrael's House rules the Land of the LORD, And the Masters he served be his servants and maids, And he shall subdue his oppressors. Then when the LORD frees you from grief and from fear, And from the hard slavery you slaved, You can raise up these verses against Babel’s King, ‘ How failed the Tyrant? The gold—seeker perished? The LORD broke the rod of the Wicked, The stick of the driver, whose fury struck peoples,—»-· Who with strokes never ceasing Chased Nations in anger, He is now helpless driven l ‘Al1 the earth laughs in peace And breaks out into song! Yes, the pine trees laugh at you, and Lebanon’s cedars: Since you fell, no fellers have come up against us.’ The Grave below mourns you,—-and comes out to meet you, The Rephaim strip for you, And rise all the Heroes of Earth from their Beds, All the Kings of the Heathen grieve for you and say, ‘ Have you become feeble like us? Un—kingdomed as we? ‘ Your pomp sinks to the grave with the sound of your viols; Your couch is the maggot, your covering the worm ! How fell you from Heaven, bright Son of the Morning? Down, down to the earth, you destroyer of Nations? Though you said in your heart ‘ I will rise up to Heaven! Exalt my throne over the stars of its God And reside on the Hill of the Seasons; Be adored like the North l I will rise o’er the heights of the clouds, I will make myself like the Mosr HIGH! But now you are hurled to the Grave ! You are kicked to the Pit! Those who see you upon you will gaze, Reflecting that this was the man Shook the earth and made Kingdoms afraid, Made the World like a desert, its cities destroyed, And sent not his prisoners home! ‘ All the Kings of the Nations-the whole, Rest in honour,·—each one in his house, But you are flung out of your grave Like a careless guard slain in the dark, _ _ By the stab of a sword, is tlung to the stones in a pit, As a corpse trodden down. 430
