Brenton(i)
11 And she became a rod for a tribe of princes, and was elevated in her bulk in the midst of other trees, and she saw her bulk in the multitude of her branches.
12 But she was broken down in wrath, she was cast upon the ground, and the east wind dried up her choice branches: vengeance came upon them, and the rod of her strength was withered; fire consumed it.
13 And now they have planted her in the wilderness, in a dry land.
14 And fire is gone out of a rod of her choice boughs, and has devoured her; and there was no rod of strength in her. Her race is become a parable of lamentation, and it shall be for a lamentation.