You Gentiles, Unwashed, unclean, Prepare for war, Come vent your spleen.
Beat the plowshares into swords, Your harvest tools to mighty weapons, Feel the surging doom and think you strong, GatherΒ Β in the Valley of Decision, The Valley of Jehoshaphat, Where stand we all for judgment.
The Sun, the Moon, go dark; The Stars remove their shine, And full earth shakes beneath The coming doom, Before the lasting Peace Descends on Israel.
Reading Joel again. Chapter 3 is an interesting twist on plowshares and swords.