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Pass over to Tarshish; howl, ye inhabitants of the coast!

Is this your joyous [city], whose antiquity is of ancient days? Her feet shall carry her afar off to sojourn.

Who hath purposed this against Tyre, the distributor of crowns, whose merchants were princes, whose dealers were the honourable of the earth?

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Cross over to Tarshish;(A)
    wail, you people of the island.
Is this your city of revelry,(B)
    the old, old city,
whose feet have taken her
    to settle in far-off lands?
Who planned this against Tyre,
    the bestower of crowns,
whose merchants(C) are princes,
    whose traders(D) are renowned in the earth?

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