17 Thy crowned [are] as the locusts, and thy captains as the great grasshoppers, which settle in the hedges in the cold day, [but] when the sun ariseth they flee away, and their place is not known where they [are].
18 Thy shepherds slumber, O king of Assyria: thy nobles shall dwell [in the dust]: thy people are 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 fame of thee shall clap the hands over thee: for upon whom hath not thy wickedness passed continually?
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