For of old time I have broken thy yoke, and
burst thy bands; and thou saidst, I will not transgress; when upon every high hill and under every green tree thou wanderest, playing the harlot.
Yet I had planted thee a noble vine, wholly a right seed: how then art thou turned into the degenerate plant of a strange vine unto me?
For though thou wash thee with nitre, and take thee much soap, yet
thine iniquity is marked before me, saith the Lord GOD.
How canst thou say, I am not polluted, I have not gone after Baalim? see thy way in the valley, know what thou hast done: thou art
a swift dromedary traversing her ways;
A wild ass used to the wilderness, that
snuffeth up the wind at her pleasure; in her occasion who can turn her away? all they that seek her will not weary themselves; in her month they shall find her.