Isaiah - Ferrar Fenton Bible Translation page 432
The Books of the Prophets
ISAIAH.'
Ona zx, Boox I.
16
12
Cn. 15.
In the squares all fall howling in tears.
And Heshbonand Alalah, shriek out to ]atz.
Their voices re~echo !
Moab’s joints ache and his soul is distracted!
My heart cries for Moab,
At her flight, like a three—year-old heifer to Zoer,
For she mounts up to Lilith in tears;
And raises on Horanim’s roadway a shriek of despair,
For the waters of N imrim are failing;
Grass withers, plants perish, and nothing is green !
Therefore the wealth they had made and collected,
The Arabs bear off to their Vale.
For the shriek has gone round all the bordersiof Moab
At Aglim they wail, and will wail at Bar—Alam,
When the Rivers of Dimon are filled full of blood;
But I will set worse upon Dimon,
A lion to chase out of Moab, and shatter the land.
(FRIENDSHIP OF IUDAH SOUGHT BY MOAB CHIEFS.
‘ Let your ruler from Seba send lambs
From the pasture,to Her on Mount Sion;
When like a lost bird driven out of its nest,
At Arnon’s fords stand Moalfs daughters}
(MoAs’s PRAYER.)
Take counsel, be kind;
Lay your shadow like night at the windows;
Hide the refugees flight, betray not.
With you let Moab’s fugitives rest,
And from the spoilers to them be a shield,
Till oppression may cease, and the ruin may end,
And the ferment depart from the land.
For by Mercy the Throne is prepared,
And in David’s Hall sits on it Truth,
A judge seeking`]ustice,_and helping the Right.
(REPLY or ]uDA1»1.)
' We have heard of proud Moab’s great pride;
His boastings, his pride and his rage;
Left alone, therefore, let Moab wail,
In Moab let everyone weep.
Sigh and mourn for the happy Kirharsheth.
(LAMENT oven Mean.)
Sibmalrs Vine fails in the fields of Heshbon,
Foreign Lords have her trellis destroyed:
Which stretched out to jazr and spread, to the desert;
And whose off-shoots spread over the streams.
I weep Sibmah‘s Vine with my weeping at jazer,
Elalah and Heshbon will soak with my tears,
For rain has rushed over their harvest and fruitage,
And smiling and laughter have fled from her orchard s.
No cheers from her Vineyards, nor shouting of wine.
No treaders now tread in the Press,
The singing has ceased!
So my heart, like a harp, mourns for Moab,
And my breast for Kirharsheth.
And Moab looks in distress to the Height,
And goes to his Temple to pray, and he fails!
432
