When I would heal Israel, The iniquity of Ephraim is uncovered, And the evil deeds of Samaria, For they deal falsely; The thief enters in, Bandits raid outside, And they do not consider in their hearts That I remember all their wickedness. Now their deeds are all around them; They are before My face. With their wickedness they make the king glad, And the princes with their lies. They are all adulterers, Like an oven heated by the baker Who ceases to stir up the fire From the kneading of the dough until it is leavened. On the day of our king, the princes became sick with the heat of wine; He stretched out his hand with scoffers, For their hearts are like an oven As they approach their plotting; Their anger smolders all night, In the morning it burns like a flaming fire. All of them are hot like an oven, And they consume their rulers; All their kings have fallen. None of them calls on Me. Ephraim mixes himself with the nations; Ephraim has become a cake not turned. Strangers devour his strength, Yet he does not know it; Gray hairs also are sprinkled on him, Yet he does not know it. Though the pride of Israel testifies against him, Yet they have not returned to the LORD their God, Nor have they sought Him, for all this.
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