8 But now, O Lord, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; such that we all are the work of thy hands.
9 Be not wroth very sore, O Lord, neither remember iniquity for ever; behold, see, we beseech thee, we are all thy people.
10 Thy holy cities are a wilderness, Zion is a wilderness, Jerusalem a desolation.
11 Our house of our Sanctuary and of our glory, where our fathers praised thee, was burned up with fire; and all our precious things were destroyed.
12 Wilt thou refrain thyself regarding these things, O Lord? Wilt thou hold thy peace and afflict us very sore?