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Day of desolation! Here are seven women catching hold of one man, and promi-sing, We will earn our bread, find ourselves in clothing; only let us bear thy name, and be saved from the reproach of barrenness! (Isaiah 4, 1)
All over this mountain, my sanctuary, no hurt shall be done, no life taken. Deep as the waters that hide the sea-floor, knowledge of the Lord overspreading the world! (Isaiah 11, 9)
Dwellers in the south, bring out water to meet the thirsty, bread to meet fleeing men. (Isaiah 21, 14)
After this thou wilt be forgotten, thou city of Tyre, for seventy years, long as the life-time of one of thy kings. At the end of those seventy years, Tyre will know the meaning of the harlot’s song, (Isaiah 23, 15)
Fresh life they shall have, Lord, that are thine in death; lost to us, they shall live again. Awake and utter your praises, you that dwell in the dust. The dew thou sendest, Lord, shall bring light to them; only the land of dead heroes thou wilt doom to overthrow. (Isaiah 26, 19)
Bread the Lord will grant, though it be sparingly, water, though it be in short measure. Birds of passage they shall be no longer,✻ the men he gives thee for thy teachers; always thou wilt have a true counsellor in sight, (Isaiah 30, 20)
On the heights his dwelling shall be, his eyrie among the fastnesses of the rocks, bread shall be his for the asking, water from an unfailing spring. (Isaiah 33, 16)
Remember, Lord, I entreat thee, a life that has kept true to thee, an innocent heart; how I did ever what was thy will. And Ezechias wept bitterly. (Isaiah 38, 3)
Go and tell Ezechias, Here is a message to thee from the Lord, the God of thy father David. I have listened to thy prayer, and marked thy tears; be it so, I will add fifteen years to thy life. (Isaiah 38, 5)
It seemed as if I must go down to the gates of the world beneath, in the noontide of my years; the remnant of life that I hoped for, hoped for in vain. (Isaiah 38, 10)
This familiar world✻ taken away from me, folded up like a shepherd’s tent, my life cut short like the weaver’s thread! And he had cut me off while the web was still in the making; before the day reached its evening, he would make an end of me. (Isaiah 38, 12)
Lord, so frail a thing is life; on so little does my mortal breath depend! Thou canst chastise me, thou canst make me live.✻ (Isaiah 38, 16)
