As the passing chaff I strew them 24
To the wind of the desert.
This is thy lot, the share I mete thee— 25
Rede of the Lord—
Because Me thou hast wholly forgotten
And trusted in fraud.
So thy skirts I draw over thy face, 26
Thy shame is exposed.
Thine adulteries, thy neighings, 27
Thy whorish intrigues;