^{8 Ref} Art thou better than No-Ammon, That is dwelling among brooks? Waters she hath round about her, Whose bulwark `is' the sea, waters her wall.

^{9 Ref} Cush her might, and Egypt, and there is no end. Put and Lubim have been for thy help.

^{10 Ref} Even she doth become an exile, She hath gone into captivity, Even her sucklings are dashed to pieces At the top of all out-places, And for her honoured ones they cast a lot, And all her great ones have been bound in fetters.