Isaiah 2

You hide in the shade of the cedars of Lebanon.
You stand on the mountains and laugh at the land.
You build mighty towers and breed mighty horses,
And you prop up your pride in the power of man.

Your idols are made of fine silver, pure gold,
But they cannot stop the storm-wrath of the Lord.
Child, humble yourself! Bend your knees to the dust!
Pick up a mild plough in exchange for your sword.

A day comes when high things will crumble like sand—
A day comes when earth will first shake, then be still.
But small, lowly Zion will rise like the dawn.
And will you be found on that most steadfast hill?