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29 Do not rejoice, all you of Philistia,
that the rod that struck you is broken.
For from the serpent’s root comes a viper
and its fruit will be a flying serpent.
30 The firstborn of the poor will feed,
and the needy will lie down in safety.
I will kill your root with famine,
and your survivors will be slain.
31 Wail, O gate! Cry, O city!
Melt away, all you of Philistia!
For smoke is coming from the north,
and there is no straggler in its ranks.

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