26 O daughter of My people, Gird on sackcloth, and roll thyself in ashes, The mourning of an only one make for thee, A lamentation most bitter, For suddenly come doth the spoiler against us.
27 A watch-tower I have given thee, Among My people a fortress, And thou knowest, and hast tried their way.
28 All of them are turned aside by apostates, Walking slanderously -- brass and iron, All of them are corrupters.
29 The bellows have been burnt, By fire hath the lead been consumed, In vain hath a refiner refined, And the wicked have not been drawn away.
30 'Silver rejected,' they have called to them, For Jehovah hath kicked against them!
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