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Without Me it hath bowed down In the place of a bound one, And in the place of the slain they fall. With all this not turned back hath His anger, And still His hand is stretched out.

Wo [to] Asshur, a rod of Mine anger, And a staff in their hand [is] Mine indignation.

Against a profane nation I send him, And concerning a people of My wrath I charge him, To spoil spoil, and to seize prey, And to make it a treading-place as the clay of out places.

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