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For they have drawn near, As an oven [is] their heart, In their lying in wait all the night sleep doth their baker, Morning! he is burning as a flaming fire.

All of them are warm as an oven, And they have devoured their judges, All their kings have fallen, There is none calling unto Me among them.

Ephraim! among peoples he mixeth himself, Ephraim hath been a cake unturned.

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