Isaiah.
Chapter 57.
The righteous hath perished, And there is none laying it to heart, And men of kindness are gathered, Without any considering that from the face of evil Gathered is the righteous one. 
He entereth into peace, they rest on their beds, Each is going straightforward. 
And ye, come near hither, O sons of a sorceress, seed of an adulterer, Even thou dost commit whoredom. 
Against whom do ye sport yourselves? Against whom enlarge ye the mouth? Prolong ye the tongue? Are not ye children of transgression? a false seed? 
Who are inflamed among oaks, under every green tree, Slaughtering the children in valleys, Under clefts of the rocks. 
Among the smooth things of a brook is thy portion, They — they are thy lot, Also to them thou hast poured out an oblation, Thou hast caused a present to ascend, For these things am I comforted? 
On a mountain, high and exalted, Thou hast set thy couch, Also thither thou hast gone up to make a sacrifice. 
And behind the door, and the post, Thou hast set up thy memorial, For from Me thou hast removed, and goest up, Thou hast enlarged thy couch, And dost covenant for thyself among them, Thou hast loved their couch, the station thou sawest, 
And goest joyfully to the king in ointment, And dost multiply thy perfumes, And sendest thine ambassadors afar off, And humblest thyself unto Sheol. 
In the greatness of thy way thou hast laboured, Thou hast not said, 'It is desperate.' The life of thy hand thou hast found, Therefore thou hast not been sick. 
And of whom hast thou been afraid, and fearest, That thou liest, and Me hast not remembered? Thou hast not laid it to thy heart, Am not I silent, even from of old? And Me thou fearest not? 
I declare thy righteousness, and thy works, And they do not profit thee. 
When thou criest, let thy gatherings deliver thee, And all of them carry away doth wind, Take away doth vanity, And whoso is trusting in Me inheriteth the land, And doth possess My holy mountain. 
And he hath said, 'Raise up, raise up, prepare a way, Lift a stumbling-block out of the way of My people.' 
For thus said the high and exalted One, Inhabiting eternity, and holy is His name: 'In the high and holy place I dwell, And with the bruised and humble of spirit, To revive the spirit of the humble, And to revive the heart of bruised ones,' 
For, not to the age do I strive, nor for ever am I wroth, For the spirit from before Me is feeble, And the souls I have made. 
For the iniquity of his dishonest gain, I have been wroth, and I smite him, Hiding — and am wroth, And he goeth on turning back in the way of his heart. 
His ways I have seen, and I heal him, yea, I lead him, And recompense comforts to him and to his mourning ones. 
Producing the fruit of the lips, 'Peace, peace,' to the far off, and to the near, And I have healed him, said Jehovah. 
And the wicked are as the driven out sea, For to rest it is not able, And its waters cast out filth and mire. 
There is no peace, said my God, to the wicked! 
