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12 Left in the city [is] desolation, And [with] wasting is the gate smitten.

13 When thus it is in the heart of the land, In the midst of the peoples, As the compassing of the olive, As gleanings when harvest hath been finished,

14 They -- they lift up their voice, They sing of the excellency of Jehovah, They have cried aloud from the sea.

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