¹⁵ Moab is laid waste, and his cities are gone up [in smoke], and his chosen young men are gone down to the slaughter, saith the King, whose name is Jehovah of hosts.

¹⁴ My dove, in the clefts of the rock, In the covert of the precipice, Let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice; For sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.