²¹ For the quaffer and glutton become poor, And drowsiness clotheth with rags.

¹⁷ Whoso `is' loving mirth `is' a poor man, Whoso is loving wine and oil maketh no wealth.

¹⁹ whose end `is' destruction, whose god `is' the belly, and whose glory `is' in their shame, who the things on earth are minding.

²⁰ and have said unto the elders of his city, Our son -- this one -- is apostatizing and rebellious; he is not hearkening to our voice -- a glutton and drunkard;

²¹ envyings, murders, drunkennesses, revellings, and such like, of which I tell you before, as I also said before, that those doing such things the reign of God shall not inherit.

¹⁰ nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners, the reign of God shall inherit.

¹¹ and now, I did write to you not to keep company with `him', if any one, being named a brother, may be a whoremonger, or covetous, or an idolater, or a railer, or a drunkard, or an extortioner -- with such a one not even to eat together;

⁵ Awake, ye drunkards, and weep, And howl all drinking wine, because of the juice, For it hath been cut off from your mouth.

¹ Wo `to' the proud crown of the drunkards of Ephraim. And the fading flower of the beauty of his glory, That `is' on the head of the fat valley of the broken down of wine.

² Lo, a mighty and strong one `is' to the Lord, As a storm of hail -- a destructive shower, As an inundation of mighty waters overflowing, He cast down to the earth with the hand.

³ By feet trodden down is the proud crown of the drunkards of Ephraim,

³⁰ Near the field of a slothful man I passed by, And near the vineyard of a man lacking heart.

³¹ And lo, it hath gone up -- all of it -- thorns! Covered its face have nettles, And its stone wall hath been broken down.

³² And I see -- I -- I do set my heart, I have seen -- I have received instruction,

³³ A little sleep -- a little slumber -- A little folding of the hands to lie down.

³⁴ And thy poverty hath come `as' a traveller, And thy want as an armed man!

¹⁵ Sloth causeth deep sleep to fall, And an indolent soul doth hunger.

⁹ Till when, O slothful one, dost thou lie? When dost thou arise from thy sleep?

¹⁰ A little sleep, a little slumber, A little clasping of the hands to rest,

¹¹ And thy poverty hath come as a traveller, And thy want as an armed man.