Rotherham(i)
9 Then shall, the torrents thereof, be turned, into pitch, And, the dust thereof, into brimstone,––So shall her land become burning pitch:
10 Neither, night nor day, shall it be quenched, To times age–abiding, shall ascend the smoke thereof,––From generation to generation, shall it be waste, Never, never, shall any pass through it:
11 That the vomiting pelican and the bittern, may possess it: And, the great owl and the raven, dwell therein; Then will he stretch out over it, The line of desolation, and, The plummet of emptiness.
12 Her nobles (but none are, there!) unto royalty, will call,––All, all her princes, shall become nought.