Isaiah - The Old Testament

¹ Yahweh, you are my God, I shall praise you to the heights, I shall praise your name; for you have accomplished marvels, plans long-conceived, faithfully, firmly.

² For you have made the town a heap of stones, the fortified city a ruin. The foreigners' citadel is a city no longer, it will never be rebuilt.

³ Hence mighty peoples will honour you, the city of pitiless nations hold you in awe;

⁴ For you have been a refuge for the weak, a refuge for the needy in distress, a shelter from the storm, shade from the heat; for the breath of the pitiless is like a winter storm.

⁵ Like heat in a dry land you calm the foreigners' tumult; as heat under the shadow of a cloud, so the song of the pitiless dies away.

⁶ On this mountain, for all peoples, Yahweh Sabaoth is preparing a banquet of rich food, a banquet of fine wines, of succulent food, of well-strained wines.

⁷ On this mountain, he has destroyed the veil which used to veil all peoples, the pall enveloping all nations;

⁸ he has destroyed death for ever. Lord Yahweh has wiped away the tears from every cheek; he has taken his people's shame away everywhere on earth, for Yahweh has spoken.

⁹ And on that day, it will be said, 'Look, this is our God, in him we put our hope that he should save us, this is Yahweh, we put our hope in him. Let us exult and rejoice since he has saved us.'

¹⁰ For Yahweh's hand will rest on this mountain, and Moab will be trodden under his feet as straw is trodden into the dung-heap.

¹¹ He may stretch his hands wide on the mountain like a swimmer stretching out his hands to swim. But he will humble his pride despite what his hands may attempt.

¹² And the impregnable fortress of your walls, he has overthrown, laid low, flung to the ground, in the dust.