“Why will your bull-god Apis run off?Because God will drive him off.Your ragtag army will fall to pieces.The word is passing through the ranks,‘Let’s get out of here while we still can.Let’s head for home and save our skins.’When they get home they’ll nickname Pharaoh‘Big-Talk-Bad-Luck.’As sure as I am the living God”—the King’s Decree, God-of-the-Angel-Armies is his name—“A conqueror is coming: like Tabor, singular among mountains;like Carmel, jutting up from the sea!So pack your bags for exile,you coddled daughters of Egypt,For Memphis will soon be nothing,a vacant lot grown over with weeds.