I'm stepping in and facing them with the wild floodwaters of the Euphrates, The king of Assyria and all his fanfare, a river in flood, bursting its banks,
But face the facts, all you oppressors, and then wring your hands. Listen, all of you, far and near. Prepare for the worst and wring your hands. Yes, prepare for the worst and wring your hands!
Plan and plot all you want--nothing will come of it. All your talk is mere talk, empty words, Because when all is said and done, the last word is Immanuel--God-With-Us.
The Holy can be either a Hiding Place or a Boulder blocking your way, The Rock standing in the willful way of both houses of Israel, A barbed-wire Fence preventing trespass to the citizens of Jerusalem.
I stand my ground and hope, I and the children GOD gave me as signs to Israel, Warning signs and hope signs from GOD-of-the-Angel-Armies, who makes his home in Mount Zion.
Frustrated and famished, they try one thing after another. When nothing works out they get angry, cursing first this god and then that one, Looking this way and that,