Daily Meditation
9 The Lord of hosts
hath purposed it, to stain the pride of all glory, and to bring into contempt
all the honourable of the earth. Isaiah 23
Today’s Reading
Isaiah
Chapter 23
Be still
1 The burden of
Tyre. Howl, ye ships of Tarshish; for it is laid waste, so that there is no
house, no entering in: from the land of Chittim it is revealed to them. 2 Be
still, ye inhabitants of the isle; thou whom the merchants of Zidon, that pass
over the sea, have replenished. 3 And by great waters the seed of Sihor, the
harvest of the river, is her revenue; and she is a mart of nations. 4 Be thou
ashamed, O Zidon: for the sea hath spoken, even the strength of the sea,
saying, I travail not, nor bring forth children, neither do I nourish up young
men, nor bring up virgins. 5 As at the report concerning Egypt, so shall they
be sorely pained at the report of Tyre. 6 Pass ye over to Tarshish; howl, ye
inhabitants of the isle. 7 Is this your joyous city, whose antiquity is of
ancient days? her own feet shall carry her afar off to sojourn. 8 Who hath
taken this counsel against Tyre, the crowning city, whose merchants are
princes, whose traffickers are the honourable of the earth? 9 The Lord of hosts
hath purposed it, to stain the pride of all glory, and to bring into contempt
all the honourable of the earth. 10 Pass through thy land as a river, O
daughter of Tarshish: there is no more strength. 11 He stretched out his hand
over the sea, he shook the kingdoms: the Lord hath given a commandment against
the merchant city, to destroy the strong holds thereof. 12 And he said, Thou
shalt no more rejoice, O thou oppressed virgin, daughter of Zidon: arise, pass
over to Chittim; there also shalt thou have no rest. 13 Behold the land of the
Chaldeans; this people was not, till the Assyrian founded it for them that
dwell in the wilderness: they set up the towers thereof, they raised up the
palaces thereof; and he brought it to ruin. 14 Howl, ye ships of Tarshish: for
your strength is laid waste.
15 And it shall come
to pass in that day, that Tyre shall be forgotten seventy years, according to
the days of one king: after the end of seventy years shall Tyre sing as an
harlot. 16 Take an harp, go about the city, thou harlot that hast been
forgotten; make sweet melody, sing many songs, that thou mayest be remembered.
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