Lamentations 1:1, 16

How doth the city sit solitary, That was full of people! How is she become as a widow! She that was great among the nations, And princess among the provinces, How is she become tributary!

For these things I weep; Mine eye, mine eye runneth down with water, Because the comforter that should relieve my Soul is far from me: My children are desolate, Because the enemy prevailed.