My sorrow is beyond healing, My heart is faint within me! Behold, listen! The cry of the daughter of my people from a distant land: “Is the LORD not in Zion? Is her King not within her?” “Why have they provoked Me with their graven images, with foreign idols?” “Harvest is past, summer is ended, And we are not saved.” For the brokenness of the daughter of my people I am broken; I mourn, dismay has taken hold of me. Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there? Why then has not the health of the daughter of my people been restored?
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