The Prophet’s Lament and Confession

17 This is the word thou shalt speak to them:

Mine eyes run down with tears

By night and day unceasing;

For the daughters of my people

Is broken, grievously broken,

With a wound exceeding sore.

18 If to the field I go forth,

Lo, the slain of the sword lie there;

And if into the city I go,

Lo, there lie the victims of famine:

Yea, prophet and priest alike,

All witless, lie crouched on the ground,

19 Hast Thou utterly cast away Judah?

Is Zion grown loathsome to Thee?

Why hast Thou smitten us so,

That we can find no healing?

We look for peace, but no good cometh:

For a season of healing, but lo! dismay.

20 We acknowledge, Jehovah, our wickedness,

The guilt of our fathers also;

For we have sinned against Thee.

21 For Thy name’s sake, O spurn us not,

O shame not Thy glorious throne:

O remember and break out Thy covenant with us.

22 Of the worthless gods of the heathen

Is there one that can bring down rain?

Can the sky give showers of itself?

Is it not Thou alone that canst do this–

Jehovah, our God, whom we wait for?

Yea, these things are all Thy creation.