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MOF HOS Chapter 8

HOS 8 ©

8Set the trumpet to your lips!

An eagle swoops upon the house of the Eternal;

for my compact they have broken,

and rebelled against my law,

2although they cry to me,

“God of Israel, we know thee.”

3Israel discards the good:

so let the foe pursue them!


4bOf silver and gold they made them idols–

only to be wasted.

5Your Calf, Samaria, I detest it,

my wrath blazes at it

6[[How long will it be before Israel

returns to purity of life?]];

a craftsman made it,

it is not God–

no, Samaria’s Calf shall be smashed.


7They sow the wind and reap the storm.

No stalk on their shoot it bears no fruit.

If fruit it bore, a foreigner would devour it.

8a[[And Israel is devoured.]]


4aThey set up kings, but not with my consent;

they set up chiefs, but not with my approval;

8band now they count for nothing among the nations.

9They have gone off to Assyria wilfully,

like a wild ass by himself;

they have offered love-gifts to Egypt.

10If thus they spend themselves among the nations,

I must be scattering them,

to make them cease awhile

from electing kings and chiefs.


11Many an altar has Ephraim raised,

altars that only serve for sin.

12Were I to write for him my laws,

he would but think them foreigners’ saws.

13They sacrifice indeed,

sacrifice flesh – and eat it!

The Eternal has no delight in that!

I must remember their guilt now,

and punish their iniquity

[[Back to Egypt they must go.

14For Israel forgot his Maker and built temples,

Judah made many a citadel:

but I fling fires of war on citadels,

and burn up temples]].

HOS 8 ©

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