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Lift up an ensign Zionward, Strengthen yourselves, stand not still, For evil I am bringing in from the north, And a great destruction.

Gone up hath a lion from his thicket, And a destroyer of nations hath journeyed, He hath come forth from his place To make thy land become a desolation, Thy cities are laid waste, without inhabitant.

For this, gird on sackcloth, lament and howl, For the fierce anger of Jehovah hath not turned back from us.

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