11 Howle ye that dwel in the myll, for all the marchaunt people are gone, and all they that were laden with syluer, are roted out.
12 At the same tyme wil I seke thorow Ierusalem with lanternes, and vyset them that contynue in their dregges, and saye in their hertes: Tush, the LORDE wil do nether good ner euell.
13 Their goodes shalbe spoyled, and their houses layed waist. They shall buylde houses, and not dwel in them: they shal plante vynyardes, but not drynke the wyne therof.
14 For the greate daye of the LORDE is at honde, it is harde by, & commeth on a pace. Horrible is ye tydinges of the LORDES daye, then shall the giaunte crie out:
15 for that daye is a daye of wrath, a daye of trouble & heuynesse, a daye of vtter destruccion & mysery, a darcke & glomynge daye, a cloudy & stormy daye,