Joel Thys is the worde of the Lorde, that came vnto Ioell the sonne of Phatuel.

Great⁽ⁱ⁾ ¹ Thys is the worde of the Lorde, that came vnto Ioell the sonne of Phatuel. ² Heare, O yee elders: pondre this well, all ye that dwell in the lande: yf euer there happened soch a thinge in your dayes, or in the dayes of youre fathers. ³ Tell youre chyldren of it, and lett them shewe it vnto their chyldren, and so they to certifye theyr posteryte therof. ⁴ Loke what the caterpyller hath lefte, that hath the greshoper eaten vp: what the greshoper lefte, that hath the locuste eaten vp: and what the locuste hath left, that hath the blastynge consumed. ⁵ Wake vp ye dronckardes, and wepe: mourne all ye wynesuppers, because of youre swete wyne, for it shall be taken awaye from youre mouth. ⁶ Yee, a myghtye and an innumerable people shall come vp into my lande: these haue teeth lyke the teeth of lyons, and chaftbones lyke the lyonesses. ⁷ They shall make my vyneyarde waste, they shall pyll of the darckes of my fyggetrees, strype them bare, cast them awaye, and make the braunches whyte. ⁸ Make thy moone as a vyrgin doth that gyrdeth her selfe with sacke, because of her bryde grome. ⁹ For the meate and drynckoffringe shalbe taken awaye from the house of the Lorde, and the prestes the Lordes minysters shall mourne. ¹⁰ The felde shalbe wasted, the lande shalbe in a myserable case: for the corne shalbe destroyed, the swete wyne shall come to confusyon, and the oyle vtterly desolate. ¹¹ The housbandmen and the wyne gardeners shall loke pyteously and make lamentacyon, for the wheate, wyne and barly, and because the haruest vpon the felde is so clene destroyed. ¹² The grapegatherers shall make greate mone, when the vyneyarde and fyggetrees be so vtterly wasted. Yee, all the pomgarnettes, palmetrees, apletrees, & the other trees of the felde shall wyther awaye. Thus the mery cheare of the chyldren of men, shall come to confusyon. ¹³ Gyrde you, and make youre mone, O ye prestes, mourne ye minystres of the aulter: goo your waye in, and slepe in sack cloth, O ye officiers of my God: for the meat & drinkofferinge shall be taken awaye from the house of youre God. ¹⁴ Proclayme a fastinge, call the congregacyon, gather the elders and all the inhabitours of the lande together into the house of the Lorde your God, and crye vnto the Lorde: ¹⁵ alas, alas for thys daye. And why? the daye of the Lorde is at hande, and cometh as a destroyer from the almyghtye. ¹⁶ Shall not the meates be taken awaye before oure eyes, the myrth also and ioye from the house of our God? ¹⁷ The sede shall peryshe in the grounde, the garners shall lye waste, the flores shalbe broken downe, for the corne shall be destroyed. ¹⁸ O what a syghynge make the kyne? the bullockes are very euell lykynge, because they haue no pasture: and the shepe are famysshed awaye. ¹⁹ O Lorde, to the wyll I crye: for the fyre hath consumed the goodly pastures of the wyldernes, and the flame hath brent vp all the trees of the felde. ²⁰ Yee, the wylde beastes crye also vnto the: for the water riuers are dryed vp, and the fyre hath consumed the pastures of the wyldernesse.