8
Though Nineveh of old was like a pool of water, Now they flee away. "Halt! Halt!" they cry; But no one turns back.
9
Take spoil of silver! Take spoil of gold! There is no end of treasure, Or wealth of every desirable prize.
10
She is empty, desolate, and waste! The heart melts, and the knees shake; Much pain is in every side, And all their faces are drained of color.
11
Where is the dwelling of the lions, And the feeding place of the young lions, Where the lion walked, the lioness and lion's cub, And no one made them afraid?
12
The lion tore in pieces enough for his cubs, Killed for his lionesses, Filled his caves with prey, And his dens with flesh.
13
"Behold, I am against you," says the Lord of hosts, "I will burn your chariots in smoke, and the sword shall devour your young lions; I will cut off your prey from the earth, and the voice of your messengers shall be heard no more."