Chapter 19

… Thine to raise a dirge over the princes of Israel:

Prince, that mother of thine was a lioness indeed; where lions haunt, she made her lair, among their whelps nursed her brood.

One cub she reared that grew to lion’s estate, learned to bring down his prey, to eat men;

the neighbours2 heard of it, caught him, not scatheless, in their pit, and carried him off in chains to Egypt.

Baulked of her hopes, she reared another, till it was a grown lion.

This one, in turn, took his ease like a lion among the rest; learned to bring down prey, eat men,

of women make widows, of cities a desert; dispeopled a whole land with his roaring.

At that, folk came from far and near3 with nets to snare him, caught him in their cruel toils and caged him.

This one they led off in chains to the king of Babylon; in Babylon he remained a prisoner, and his voice was heard on the hill-sides of Israel no more.

Mother of that royal stock! Vine planted by the water-side, and in that neighbourhood leafy and fruitful both, was never so fertile.

Here was a vine could yield sturdy boughs, sceptres for kings to govern with; high grew the leaves, fair the branching tendrils.

But vengeance fell upon it, torn up and thrown away on the ground, the sirocco to wither its leaves; faded and dry those strong boughs, till at last fire consumed them!

It is planted now far away, in the parched soil of a desert.

Fire came out from those branching boughs, that consumed all the fruit of it; never a sturdy bough more, to be a king’s sceptre. Make lament, then; here is good cause for lament.