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My heart shall cry out for Moab;
    his fugitives shall flee to Zoar,
    like a three-year-old heifer.
For by the Ascent of Luhith
    they shall go up with weeping;
for in the way of Horonaim
    they shall raise up a cry of destruction,
for the waters of Nimrim shall be desolate;
    surely the grass is withered away;
the grass fails,
    there is no green thing.
Therefore the abundance they have gained, and that which they have laid up,
    they shall carry away to the Brook of the Willows.

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