Isaiah

⁷And there is none that calleth upon thy name, that stirreth up himself to take hold of thee: for thou hast hid thy face from us, and hast consumed us by means of our iniquities. ⁸But now, O Lord, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; and we all are the work of thy hand. ⁹Be not wroth very sore, O Lord, neither remember iniquity for ever: behold, look, we beseech thee, we are all thy people. ¹⁰Thy holy cities are become a wilderness, Zion is become a wilderness, Jerusalem a desolation. ¹¹Our holy and our beautiful house, where our fathers praised thee, is burned with fire; and all our pleasant things are laid waste. ¹²Wilt thou refrain thyself for these things, O Lord? wilt thou hold thy peace, and afflict us very sore?