Ay, in their distress they will be waiting full early at my door; Back to the Lord! will be their cry;

salve he only can bring, that wounded us; hand that smote us shall heal.

Dead men to-day and to-morrow, on the third day he will raise us up again, to live in his presence anew. Acknowledge we, cease we never to acknowledge the Lord, he will reveal himself, sure as the dawn, come back to us, sure as the rains of winter and spring come back to the earth.

What way will serve with you, men of Ephraim? Juda, what way will serve? Ruth of yours is but momentary, fades like the early mist, like morning dew.

What wonder I should send prophets first, to shape men to my will if they could, and then utter my sentence of ruin? Believe me, this doom of thine shall be clear as daylight.

A tender heart wins favour with me, not sacrifice; God’s acknowledging, not victim’s destroying;

and these be very children of Adam, keep troth they cannot, here is a land where my will is set at defiance.✻

What is Galaad but a stronghold of idolatry, bedabbled with footprints of blood?

Nor much imports it, company of priests thou meet on Sichem road, or troop of robbers thirsting for men’s lives; be sure there is mischief afoot;✻

foul deeds I see done in Israel.✻ Ephraim so wanton, Israel so defiled; and,

Juda, what of thyself? For thee, no harvest?✻

When I restore my people from exile …