Howl, O gate; cry, O city; thou art melted away, O Philistia, all of thee; for there cometh a smoke out of the north, and there is no straggler in his ranks.
Yelle, thou yate; cry, thou citee, al Filistea is cast doun; for whi smoke schal come fro þe north, and noon is þat schal ascape his oost.