ELEG. 2.
BEhold! her eyes, those glorious eyes, that were
Like two faire Sunnes, in one celestiall Sphaere,
Whose radiant beames did, once, reflect so bright,
Are now eclipsed, and haue lost their light,
And seeme like Ilands, about which, appeares
A troubled Ocean, with a Tide of teares;
Her seruant Cities, that were once, at hand,
And bow'd their seruile necks, to her command,
Stand all aloofe, as strangers to her mone,
And giue her leaue, to spend her teares alone;
Her Neighbours flatter, with a false reliefe,
And with a kisse, betray her, to her griefe.
ELEG. 3.
COmpast around, with Seas of briny teares,
Iudah laments, distraught with double feares;
Euen as the fearfull Partridge, to excuse her
From the fierce Gos-hawke, that too close pursues her,
Falls in a Couert, and her selfe doth couer,
From her vnequall Foe, that sits aboue her,
Meanewhile, the treason of the quick Retriuers,
Discouers nouell dangers, and deliuers
Her to a second feare, whose double fright
Findes safetie, nor in staying, nor in flight;
Euen so, is
Iudah vext, with change of woes,
Betwixt her home-bred, and her forrein Foes.
ELEG. 4.
DId not these sacred Cawsies, that are leading
To
Sion, late, seeme pau'd, with often treading?
Now secret Dens, for lurking Theeues to meet,
Vnprest, vnlesse with sacrilegious feet;
Sion, the Temple of the highest GOD,
Stands desolate, her holy steps vntrod;
Her Altars are defac'd, her Virgin fires
Surcease, and with a stinke, her snuffe expires;
Her Priests haue chang'd their Hymns to sighes & cries,
Her Virgins weepe forth Riuers from their eyes:
O
Sion, thou that wert the Childe of mirth,
Art now the scorne, and By-word of the Earth.
ELEG 5.
ENcreas'd in power, and high Cheuisaunce
Of armes, thy Tyrant foemen doe aduaunce
Their craftie crests; He, he that was thy father,
And crownd thee, once, with blessings, now doth gather
His troops to worke thy end; Him, who aduanc't thee
To be Earths Queene, thy sins haue bent against thee:
Strange spectacle of Griefe! Thy tender frie,
Whom childhood taught no language, but their crie,
T'expresse their infant griefe, these, wretched these,
By force of childish teares, could not appease
The ruthlesse Sword, which, deafe to all their cryes,
Did driue them Captiues, from their mothers eyes.
ELEG. 6.
FAire Virgin
Sion, where (ah) where are those
Pure cheekes, wherein, the Lilly, and the Rose,
So much contended, lately, for the place,
Till both compounded, in thy glorious face?
How hast thou blear'd, those sun-bright eyes, of thine,
Those beames, the royall Magazens of diuine
And sacred Majestie, from whose pure light,
The purblind worldlings, did receiue their sight,
Thy fearfull Princes, leaue their fencelesse Towers,
And flie like Harts, before their swift pursuers,
Like light-foot Harts they flie, not knowing, where,
Prickt on with Famin, and distracted Feare.
ELEG: 7.
GAll'd with her griefe,
Ierusalem recalls
To minde, her lost delights, her Festiualls,
Her peacefull freedome, and full joyes, in vaine
Wishing, what Earth cannot restore againe;
Succour shee sought, and begg'd, but none was there,
To giue the Almes, of one poore trickling teare,
The scornfull lips, of her amazed Foes,
Deride the griefe, of her disastrous woes;
They laugh, and lay more ample torments on her,
Disdaine to looke, and yet they gaze vpon her,
Abuse her Altars, hate her Offerings,
Prophane her Sabbaths, and her holy Things
ELEG. 8.
HAdst thou
(Ierusalem) ô, had thy heart
Beene loyall to his loue, whose once thou wert,
O, had the beames of thy vnvailed eye,
Continu'd pure; had'st thou beene nice, to trie
New pleasures, thus thy Glorie ne're had wasted,
Thy Walls, till now, like thy Reproach, had lasted.
Thy Louers, whose false beauties did entice thee,
Haue seene thee naked, and doe now despise thee,
Drunke with thy wanton pleasures, they are fled,
And scorne the bountie, of thy loathed bed;
Left to thy guilt (the seruant of thy sin)
Thou sham'st to show, what once, thou gloriedst in.
ELEG. 9.
IErusalem is all infected ouer
With leprosie, whose filth, no shade can couer,
Puft vp with pride, vnmindfull of her end,
See, how shee lyes, deuoid of helpe, or friend.
Great Lord of Lords (whose Mercy farre transcends
Thy sacred Iustice) whose full Hand attends
The cryes of emptle Rauens, bow downe thine eares,
To wretched
Sion, Sion drown'd in teares;
Thy Hand did plant her (Lord) shee is thy Vine,
Confound her Foes, they are her foes, and thine:
Shew wonted fauour, to thy holy Hill,
Rebuild her walls, and loue thy
Sion still.
ELEG. 10.
KNees, falsly bent to
Dagon, now defile
Her wasted Temple, rudely they dispoile
Th'abused Altars, and no hand releeues;
Her House of prayer is turn'd a Den of theeues,
Her costly Robes, her sacred treasure stands,
A willing prey to sacrilegious hands,
Her Priests are slaine, and in a lukewarme flood,
Through euery Channell runnes the Leuits blood;
The hallowed Temple of the highest GOD,
Whose purer Foot-steps, were not to be trod
With vnprepared feet, before her eye
Is turn'd a Groue, for base Idolatrie.
ELEG. 11
LIngring with Death and Famin,
Iudah groanes,
And to the Aire, breathes forth her ayrie moanes,
Her fainting Eyes waxe dimme, her Cheeks grow pale,
Her wandring steps despaire to speede, and faile,
Shee faints, and through her trembling lips (halfe dead)
Shee whispers oft the holy name of Bread:
Great GOD, let thy offended wrath surcease,
Behold thy seruants, send thy seruants peace,
Behold thy vassalls, groueling on the dust;
Be mercifull (deare GOD) as well as just;
'Tis thou, 'tis thou alone, that sent this griefe,
'Tis thou, 'tis thou alone, can send reliefe.
ELEG. 12.
MY tongu's in labour with her painfull birth,
That findes no passage; Lord, how strange a dearth
Of wordes, concomitates a world of woes!
I neither can conceale, nor yet disclose:
You weary Pilgrims, you, whom change of Clymes
Haue taught the change of Fortunes, and of Times,
Stay, stay your feeble steps, and cast your Eyes
On me, the Abstract of all miseries.
Say (Pilgrims) say, if e're your eyes beheld
More truer Iliades; more vnparalleld,
And matelesse Euills, which my offended GOD
Reulcerates, with his enraged Rod.
ELEG. 13.
NO humane power could, no enuious Art
Of mortall man, could thus subiect my heart,
My glowing heart, to these imperious fires:
No earthly sorrow, but at length expires;
But these my Tyrant-torments doe extend
To Infinites, nor hauing ease, nor end;
Lo, I the Pris'ner of the highest GOD,
Inthralled to the vengeance of his Rod,
Lie bound in fetters, that I cannot flie,
Nor yet endure his deadly strokes, nor die:
My ioyes are turn'd to sorrowes, backt with feares,
And I (poore I) lie pickled vp in teares.
ELEG. 14.
O! How vnsufferable is the waight
Of sinne! How miserable is their state,
The silence of whose secret sinne conceales
The smart, till Iustice to Reuenge appeales!
How ponderous are my Crimes, whose ample scroule,
Weighs downe the pillars of my broken Soule!
Their sower, masqu'd with sweetnesse, ouerswai'd me,
And with their smiling kisses, they betrai'd me,
Betrai'd me to my Foes, and what is worse,
Betrai'd me to my selfe, and heauens curse,
Betrai'd my soule, to an eternall griefe,
Deuoid of hope, for e're to finde reliefe.
ELEG.. 15.
PErplext with change of woes, where e're I turne
My fainting eyes, they finde fresh cause, to mourne;
My griefes mooue like the Planets, which appeare
Chang'd from their places, constant to their Sphaere;
Behold, the Earth-confounding arme of heauen,
Hath cow'd my valiant Captaines, and hath driuen
Their scattered forces vp and downe the street,
Like worried sheepe, afraid of all they meet;
My yonger men, the seede of propagation,
Exile hath driuen from my diuided Nation;
My tender Virgins haue not seap'd their rage,
Which neither had respect to youth, nor age.
ELEG. 16.
QVick change of Torments! equall to those crimes,
Which past vnthought-of, in my prosp'rous times;
From hence proceede my griefes, (ah me) from hence,
My spring-tyde sorrowes haue their influence;
For these, my soule dissolues, my eyes lament,
Spending those teares, whose store will ne're be spent;
For these, my fainting spirits droope, and melt
In anguish, such as neuer Mortall felt;
Within the selfe-same flames, I freeze, and frie,
I roare for helpe, and yet no helpe is nigh;
My sonnes are lost, whose fortunes should relieue me,
And onely such triumph, that hourely grieue me.
ELEG. 17.
REnt from the glorie of her lost renowne,
Sion laments; Her lips (her lips o'reflowne
With floods of teares) shee prompteth how to breake
New languages, instructs her tongue to speake
Elegious Dialects; Shee lowly bends
Her dustie knees vpon the earth, extends
Her brawnelesse armes to them, whose ruthlesse eyes
Are red, with laughing at her miseries;
Naked shee lyes, deform'd, and circumvented
With troopes of feares, vnpitied, vnlamented,
A loathsome draine for filth, despis'd forlorne;
The scorne of Nations, and the Childe of scorne.
ELEG. 18.
SOwre wages issue from the sweets of sin.
Heauens hand is just, this treacherous heart hath bin
The author of my woes: 'Tis I alone;
My sorrowes reape, what my foule sinnes haue sowne;
Often they cry'd to Heauen, e're Heauen replyde,
And Vengeance ne're had come, had they ne're cryde;
All you that passe, vouchsafe your gracious eares,
To heare these cryes, your eyes, to view these teares;
They are no heat-drops of an angrie heart,
Or childish passions of an idle smart,
But they are Riuers, springing from an Eye,
Whose streames, no ioy can stop, no griefe draw drye.
ELEG. 19.
TVrne where I list, new cause of woe, presents
My poore distracted soule with new laments;
Where shall I turne? Shall I implore my friends?
Ah! summer friendship, with the summer ends;
In vaine to them my groanes, in vaine my teares,
For haruest friends, can finde no winter eares;
Or shall I call my sacred Priests for aid;
Alas! my pined Priests are all betraid
To Death, and Famin; in the streits they cryde
For bread, and whilst they sought for bread, they dyde:
Vengeance could neuer strike so hard a blowe,
As when shee sends an vnlamented woe.
ELEG. 20.
VOuchsafe (great GOD) to turne thy tender eyes
On me, poore wretch: ô, let my mid-night cryes,
(That neuer cease, if neuer stopt with teares)
Procure audience from thy gracious eares;
Behold thy creature, made by change of griefe
The barest wretch, that euer begg'd reliefe;
See, see, my soule is tortur'd on thy racke,
My bowells tremble, and my heart-strings crack;
Abroad, the sword with open ruine frights me;
At home, the secret hand of Famin smights me;
Strange fires of griefe! How is my soule opprest,
That findes abroad, no peace; at home, no rest!
ELEG. 21.
WHere, where art thou, ô sacred Lambe of peace,
That promis'd to the heauie laden, ease?
Thee, thee alone, my often bended knee
Inuokes, that haue no other helpe, but Thee;
My foes (amazed at my hoarse complayning)
Scoffe at my oft repeated cryes, disdayning
To lend their prosp'rous hand, they hisse and smile,
Taking a pleasure to behold my spoile;
Their hands delight to bruze my broken reeds,
And still persist, to prick that heart, that bleeds;
But ther's a Day (if Prophets can diuine)
Shall scourge their sinnes, as they haue scourged mine.
ELEG. 22.
YOu noysome Weedes, that lift your Crests so high,
When better Plants, for want of moisture, die,
Thinke you to flourish euer? and (vnspide)
To shoot the flowers of your fruitlesse pride?
If Plants be lopt, because their fruits are small,
Thinke you to thriue, that beare no fruit at all?
Looke downe (great GOD) and from their places, teare
These weeds, that suck the juyce, should make vs beare;
Vndew'd with showers, let them see no Sunne,
But feele those frosts, that thy poore Plants haue done.
O, clense thy Garden, that the World may knowe,
We are the Seedes, that thy right Hand did sowe.
SIONS ELEGIES.
Threnodia II.
ELEG. 1.
ALas! my torments, my distracted feares,
Haue no commerce with reasonable teares;
How hath heauens absence darkned the renowne
Of
Sions glorie! with one angrie frowne,
How hath th'Almightie clouded those bright beames,
And chang'd her beauties streamers, into streames!
Sion, the glorie of whose refulgent Fame,
Gaue Earnest of an euerlasting name,
Is now become an indigested Masse,
And ruine is, where that braue glorie was;
How hath Heauen struck her earth-admired name,
From th'height of honour, to the depth of shame!
ELEG. 2.
BEautie, nor strength of building, could entice,
Or force Reuenge from her iust enterprise;
Mercy hath stopt her eares, and Iustice hath
Powr'd out full vialls, of her kindled wrath;
Impatient of delay, shee hath struck downe
The pride of
Sion, kickt off
Iuda's Crowne,
Her streets vnpeopled, and disperc'd her powres,
And with the ground hath leuell'd her high towres,
Her Priests are slaine, her captiu'd Princes are
Vnransom'd pris'ners; Slaues, her men of warre;
Nothing remaynes of all her wonted glorie,
But sad Memorialls of her tragick storie.
ELEG. 3.
COnfused horror, and confounded shame,
Hath blurr'd the beautie, and renowned name
Of righteous
Israel; Israels fruitfull Land,
Entail'd by Heauen, with the vsurping hand
Of vncontrolled Gentiles, is laid waste,
And with the spoile of ruine is defac't;
The angrie mouth of Iustice blowes the fires
Of hastie Vengeance, whose quick flame aspires,
With furie, to that place, which Heauen did seuer,
For
Iacob, and his holy Seede, for euer;
No part, no secret Angle of the Land,
Which beares no marke of Heauens enraged hand.
ELEG. 4.
DArts, thrill'd from heauen, transfixe my bleeding hart,
And fill my soule with euerlasting smart,
Whose festring wound, no fortune can recure;
Th' Almightie strikes but seldome, but strikes sure;
His sinowy arme hath drawne his steely bowe,
And sent his forked shafts, to ouerthrowe
My pined Princes, and to ruinate
The weakned Pillars, of my wounded state;
His hand hath scourg'd my deare delights, acquited
My soule, of all, where in my soule delighted;
I am the Mirrour of vnmasqued sin,
To see her (dearely purchas'd) pleasures in.
ELEG. 5.
EVen as the Pilot, whose sharpe Keele diuides
Th' encountring waues, of the
Cicilian Tides,
Tost on the lists of Death, striuing to scape
The danger of deepe mouth'd
Carybdis rape,
Rebutts on
Scylla, with a forc'd careere,
And wrecks vpon a lesse suspected feare;
Euen so poore I, contriuing to withstand
My Foemans, fall into th' Almighties hand;
So I, the Childe of ruine, to auoyd
Lesse dangers, by a greater am destroyd:
How necessarie, Ah! How sharp's his end,
That neither hath his GOD, nor Man, to friend!
ELEG. 6.
FOrgotten
Sion hangs her drooping head,
Vpon her fainting brest; Her soule is fed
With endlesse griefe, whose torments had depriu'd her
Long since, of life, had not new paines reviu'd her;
Sion is like a Garden, whose defence
Being broke, is left to the rude violence
Of wastefull Swine, full of neglected waste,
Nor hauing flowre for smell; nor herbe for taste;
Heauen takes no pleasure in her holy Feasts,
Her idle sabbaths, or burnt fat of beasts;
Both State, and Temple are despoil'd and fleec't
Of all their beautie; without Prince, or Priest.
ELEG: 7.
GLorie, that once did Heauens bright Temple fill,
Is now departed from that sacred Hill;
See, how the emptie Altar stands disguiz'd,
Abus'd by Gentiles, and by Heauen despiz'd;
That place, wherein the holy One hath taken
So sweet delight, lyes loathed, and forsaken;
That sacred place, wherein the pretious Name
Of great
Iehouah was preseru'd, the same
Is turn'd a Den for Theeues; an open stage,
For Vice, to act on; a defiled Cage
Of vncleane birds; a house of priuiledge
For sinne, and vncontrolled sacriledge.
ELEG. 8.
HEauen hath decreed; his angrie breast doth boile,
His time's expir'd, and he is arm'd to spoile;
His secret Will adjourn'd the righteous doome
Of threatned
Sion, and her time is come;
His hand is arm'd with thunder, from his eyes,
A flame more quick, then sulphrous
Aetna, flyes;
Sion must fall; That hand, which hath begun,
Can neuer rest, till the full worke be dun;
Her walls are sunke, her Towres are ouerthrowne,
Heauen will not leaue a stone vpon a stone;
Hence, hence the flouds of roaring
Iudah rise,
Hence
Sion fills the Cisterns of her eyes.
ELEG. 9.
IOy is departed from the holy Gates
Of deare
Ierusalem, and peace retraits
From wasted
Sion; her high walls, that were
An armed proofe, against the brunt of feare,
Are shrunke, for shame, if not withdrawne, for pitie,
To see the ruines, of so braue a Citie;
Her Kings, and out-law'd Princes liue constrain'd,
Howrely to heare the name of Heauen profan'd;
Manners and Lawes, the life of gouernment,
Are sent into eternall banishment;
Her Prophets cease to dreame; they vow, vnheard;
They howle to Heauen, but Heauen giues no regard.
ELEG. 10.
KIng, Priest, and People, all alike are clad,
In weedes of Sack-cloth, taken from the sad
Wardrobe of sorrow; prostrate on the earth,
They close their lips, their lips estrang'd to mirth;
Silent they sit, for dearth of speech, affords
A sharper Accent, for true griefe, then words;
The Father wants a Sonne; the Sonne, a Mother;
The Bride, her Groome; the Brother wants his Brother;
Some, Famin; Exile, some; and some, the Sword
Hath slaine; All want, when
Sion wants her Lord:
How art thou All in all! Ther's nothing scant
(Great GOD) with thee; without thee, all things want.
ELEG. 11.
LAunch forth, my soule, into a Sea of teares,
Whose ballac'd bulke, no other Pilot steares,
Then raging sorrow, whose vncertaine hand,
Wanting her Compasse, strikes on euery sand;
Driuen with a storme of sighes, shee seekes the Hauen
Of rest, but like to
Noahs wandring Rauen,
Shee scowres the Mayne, and, as a Sea-lost Rouer,
Shee roames, but can no land of peace, discouer:
Mine eyes are faint with teares; Teares haue no end;
The more are spent, the more remayne to spend:
What Marble (ah) what Adamantine eye,
Can looke on
Sions ruine, and not crye?
ELEG. 12.
MY tongue? The tongues of Angels, are too faint,
T'expresse the causes of my just complaint;
See, how the pale-fac'd sucklings roare for food,
And from their milklesse mothers brests, draw blood,
Children surcease their serious toyes, and plead
With trickling teares, Ah mothers, giue vs bread;
Such goodly Barnes, and not one graine of corne,
Why did the Sword escape's? why were we borne
To be deuour'd, and pin'd with famin? saue vs
With quick reliefe, or take the liues, you gaue vs;
They cryde for bread, that scarce had breath to crye;
And wanting meanes to liue, found meanes to dye.
ELEG. 13.
NEuer, ah! neuer yet, did vengeance brand
A State, with deeper ruine, then thy Land,
Deare
Sion; How could mischiefe beene more keene,
Or struck thy glorie, with a sharper spleene?
Whereto
(Ierusalem) to what shall I
Compare this thy vnequall'd miserie?
Turne back to ages past; Search deepe Records:
Theirs are, thine cannot be exprest, in words;
Would, would to GOD, my liues cheape price might be
Esteem'd of valew, but to ransome thee;
Would I could cure thy griefe; but who is able,
To heale that wound, that is immedicable?
ELEG. 14.
OSion, had thy prosp'rous soule endur'd
Thy Prophets scourge, thy ioyes had beene secur'd;
But thou (ah thou) hast lent thine itching eare,
To such as claw'd, and onely such, would'st heare;
Thy Prophets, 'nointed with vnhallow'd oile,
Rubb'd, where they should haue launcht, & did beguile
Thy abused faith, their fawning lips did crie
Peace, peace, alas, when there was no peace nigh;
They quilted silken curtains for thy crimes,
Belyde thy GOD, and onely pleas'd the Times;
Deare
Sion, oh; hadst thou, but had the skill,
To stop thine eares, thou hadst beene
Sion still.
ELEG. 15.
PEople, that trauell through thy wasted Land,
Gaze on thy ruines, and amazed stand,
They shake their spleenfull heads, disdaine, deride
The sudden downfull, of so faire a pride;
They clap their ioyfull hands, and fill their tongs
With hisses, ballads, and with Lyrick songs;
Her torments giue their emptie lips new matter,
And, with their scornfull fingers, point they at her;
Is this (say they) that place, whose wonted fame,
Made troubled Earth, to tremble at her name?
Is this that State? are these, those goodly Stations?
Is this that Mistris, and that Queene of Nations?
ELEG. 16.
Qvencht are the dying Embers of Compassion,
For emptie sorrow, findes no Lamentation;
When as thy Haruest flourisht with full eares,
Thy slightest griefe, brought in a Tyde of teares;
But now, alas! thy Crop consum'd, and gon,
Thou art but food, for beasts to trample on;
Thy seruants glorie in thy ruine, those
That were thy priuate friends, are publike foes;
Thus, thus (say they) we spit our rancrous spleene,
And gnash our teeth, vpon the worlds faire Queene;
Thrice welcome this (this long expected) day,
That crownes our conquest, with so sweeta pray.
ELEG. 17.
REbellious
Iudah! Could thy flattring Crimes
Secure thee, from the danger of these times?
Or did thy summer Prophets e're foresay
These euills, or warne thee of a winters day?
Did not those sweet-lipt Oracles begude
Thy wanton eares, with newes of Wine, and Oile?
But Heauen is iust; what his deepe Counsell will'd,
His Prophets told, and Iustice hath fulfill'd;
He hath destroyd; no secret place, so voyd,
No Fort so sure, that Heauen hath not destroyd;
Thou Land of
Iudah! How's thy sacred Throne,
Become a Stage, for Heath'n, to trample on!
ELEG. 18.
SEe, see, th'accursed Gentiles doe inherit
The Land of promise; where heauens sacred Spirit
Built Temples for his euerlasting Name;
There, there, th'vsurping Pagans doe proclaime
Their idle Idols, vnto whom they gaue
That stollen honour, which heauens Lord should haue:
Winke
Sion; ô, let not those eyes be stain'd.
With heauens dishonour, see not heauen profan;d;
Close, close thine eyes, or if they needs must bee
Open, like flood-gates to let water flee,
Yet let the violence of their flowing streames
Obscure thine open eyes, and maske their beames.
ELEG. 19.
TRust not thine eye-lids, least a flattering sleepe,
Bribe them to rest, and they forget to weepe;
Powre out thy heart, thy heart dissolu'd in teares,
Weepe forth thy plaints, in the Almighties eares;
Oh, let thy cryes, thy cryes, to heauen addrest,
Disturbe the silence of thy mid-night rest;
Preferre the sad Petitions of thy soule
To Heauen, ne're close thy lips, till Heauen condole
Confounded
Sion, and her wounded weale;
That GOD that smit, oh, mooue that GOD to heale;
Oh, let thy tongue ne're cease to call, thine eye,
To weepe, thy pensiue heart, ne're cease to crye.
ELEG. 20.
VOuchsafe, oh thou eternall Lord of pitie,
To looke on
Sion, and thy dearest Citie,
Confus'd
Ierusalem, for thy DAVIDS sake,
And for that Promise, which thy selfe did make
To halting
Is'rel; Loe, thy hand hath forc'd
Gen. 35. 12.
Mothers (whom lawlesse Famin, hath diuorc'd
From deare affection) to deuoure the bloomes,
And buds, that burgeond from their painfull wombes;
Thy sacred Priests, and Prophets that whilere,
Did howrely whisper, in thy neighb'ring eare,
Are falne before the sacrilegious sword,
Euen where, euen whilst they did vnfold thy Word.
ELEG. 21.
WOunded, and wasted, by th'eternall Hand
Of Heauen, I grouell on the ground; my Land
Is turn'd a
Golgotha, before mine eye,
Vnsepulchred my murthred people lye;
My deadlye rudely scattred on the stones,
My Cawsies all are pau'd with dead mens bones;
The fierce Destroyer doth alike forbeare
The Maidens trembling, and the Matrons teare,
Th'impartiall sword spares neither Foole, nor Wise,
The Old mans pleading; nor the Infants cryes;
Vengeance is deafe, and blinde; and shee respects
Nor Young, nor Old, nor Wise, nor Foole, nor Sexe.
ELEG. 22.
YEeres, heauy laden with their months, retire;
Months, gone their date of numbred dayes, expire;
The Dayes, full howerd, to their period tend;
And Howres, chac'd with light foot minutes, end;
Yet my vndated Euills, no time will minish,
Though Yeers, & Months, though Daies & Howers, finish:
Feares flock about me, as inuited Guests,
Before the Portalls, at proclaimed feasts;
Where Heauen hath breath'd, that man, that state must fall;
Heauen wants no Thunder-bolts, to strike withall;
I am the Subiect, of that angrie Breath,
My Sonnes are slaine, and I am mark'd for death.
SIONS ELEGIES.
Threnodia III.
ELEG. 1.
ALl you, whose vnprepared lips did taste
The tedious Cup of sharpe affliction, caste
Your wondings eyes on me, that haue drunke vp
Those dregs, whereof you onely kist the Cup:
I am the Man, 'gainst whom th'Eternall hath
Discharg'd the lowder volley of his wrath;
I am the man, on whom the brow of night
Hath scowl'd, vnworthy to behold the light;
I am the Man, in whom th'Almightie showes
The dire example of vnpattern'd woes;
I am that Pris'ner, ransome cannot free;
I am that Man; and I am onely Hee.
ELEG. 2.
BOndage hath forc'd my seruile necke to faile
Beneath her load; Afflictions nimble Flaile
Hath thrasht my soule vpon a floore of stones,
And quasht the marrow of my broken bones;
Th'assembled powres of Heauen enrag'd, are eager
To roote me out; Heauens souldiers doe beleager
My worried soule, my soule vnapt for fleeing,
That yeelds, o'reburthen'd with her tedious being;
Th'Almighties hand hath clouded all my light,
And clad my soule with a perpetuall night,
A night of torments, and eternall sorrow,
Like that of Death, that neuer findes a morrow.
ELEG. 3.
CHain'd to the brazen pillars of my woes,
I striue in vaine; No mortall hand can loose
What Heauen hath bound; My soule is wall'd about,
That Hope can nor get in, nor Feare get out;
When e're my wauering hopes to Heauen addresse
The feeble voice of my extreame distresse,
He stops his tyred eares; without regard
Of suit, or Sutor, leaues my prayers vnheard.
Before my faint and stumbling feet, he layes
Blocks to disturbe my best aduised wayes;
I seeke my peace, but seeke my peace in vaine.
For euery way's a Trap; each path's a Traine.
ELEG. 4.
DIsturbed Lions are appeas'd with blood,
And rauenous Beares are mild, not wanting food,
But heauen (ah heauen!) will not implored bee:
Lions, and Beares are not so fierce as Hee:
His direfull vengeance (which no meane confines)
Hath crost the thriuing of my best designes;
His hand hath spoil'd me, that erewhile aduanc't me,
Brought in my Foes, possest my Friends against me;
His Bowe is bent, his forked Rouers flye,
Like darted haile stones from the darkned skye;
Shot from a hand that cannot erre, they bee
Transfixed in no other marke, but mee.
ELEG. 5.
EXil'd from Heauen, I wander to and fro,
And seeke for streames, as Stags new striken doe,
And, like a wandring Hart I flee the Hounds,
With Arrowes deeply fixed in my wounds;
My deadly Hunters with a winged pace,
Pricke forwards, and pursue their wearie chace,
They whoope, they hallow me, deride, and flout me,
That flee from death, yet carrie death about me:
Excesse of torments hath my soule deceiu'd
Of all her ioyes, of all her powres bereiu'd.
Ocurious griefe, that hast my soule brim-fill'd
With thousand deaths, and yet my soule not kill'd!
ELEG. 6.
FOllow'd with troopes of feares, I flie in vaine,
For change of places, breedes new change of paine;
The base condition of my low estate,
My'exalted Foes disdaine, and wonder at;
Turne where I list (these) these my wretched eyes,
They finde no objects, but new miseries;
My soule, accustom'd to so long encrease
Of paines, forgets that shee had euer peace;
Thus, thus perplext, thus with my griefes distracted,
What shall I doe? Heauens powers are compacted,
To worke my'eternall ruine; To what friend
Shall I make moane, when Heauen conspires my end?
ELEG. 7.
GReat GOD! what helpe (ah me) what hope is left
To him, that of thy presence is bereft?
Absented from thy fauour, what remaines,
But sense, and sad remembrance of my paines?
Yet hath affliction op'ned my dull eare,
And taught me, what in weale I ne're could heare;
Her scourge hath tutor'd me with sharpe corrections,
And swag'd the swelling of my proud affections;
Till now I slumbred in a prosp'rous dreame,
From whence awak'd, my griefes are more extreame;
Hopes, newly quickned, haue my soule assur'd,
That griefes discour'd, are one halfe recur'd.
ELEG. 8.
HAd not the milder Hand of mercy broke
The furious violence, of that fatall stroke,
Offended Iustice struck, we had beene quite
Lost in the shaddowes of eternall night;
Thy mercy, Lord, is like the morning Sun,
Whose beames vndoe, what sable night hath don;
Or like a streame, the Current of whose course,
Restrain'd awhile, runnes with a swifter force;
Oh, let me swelter in those sacred beames,
And after, bathe me in these siluer streames;
To thee alone, my sorrowes shall appeale;
Hath Earth a wound, too hard for Heauen to heale?
ELEG. 9.
IN thee (deare Lord) my pensiue soule respires,
Thou art the fulnesse of my choice desires;
Thou art that sacred Spring, whose waters burst
In streames to him, that seekes with holy thurst;
Thrice happy man, thrice happy thirst, to bring
The fainting soule to so, so sweet a Spring;
Thrice happy he, whose well resolued brest
Expects no other aide, no other rest;
Thrice happy he, whose downie age hath bin
Reclaim'd by scourges, from the prime of sin,
And earely season'd with the taste of Truth,
Remembers his Creator in his youth.
ELEG. 10.
KNowledge concomitates Heauens painfull rod,
Teaches the soule to know her selfe, her GOD,
Vnseiles the eye of Faith, presents a morrow
Of ioy, within the sablest night of sorrow;
Th'afflicted soule abounds in barest neede,
Sucks purest honie from the foulest weede,
Detests that good, which pamper'd reason likes,
Welcomes the stroke, kisses the hand that strikes
In roughest Tides his well-prepared brest,
Vntoucht with danger, findes a Hauen of rest;
Hath all in all, when most of all bereauen;
In Earth, a Hell; in Hell, he findes a Heauen.
ELEG. 11.
LAbour perfected, with the euening ends,
The lampe of heauen (his course fulfill'd) descends;
Can workes of Nature seeke, and finde a rest;
And shall the torments of a troubled brest,
Impos'd by Natures all-commanding GOD,
Ne're know an end, ne're finde a period?
Deare soule, despaire not, whet thy dull beliefe
With hope; Heauens mercy will o'recome thy griefe;
From thee, not him, proceedes thy punishment,
Hee's slowe to wrath, and speedie to relent;
Thou burn'st like gold, consumest not like fuell;
O, wrong not Heauen, to thinke that Heauen is cruell.
ELEG. 12.
MOuntaines shall mooue, the Sun his circling course
Shall stop; Tridented
Neptune shall diuorce
Th'embracing floods, from their beloued Iles,
Ere Heauen forgets his seruant, and recoiles
From his eternall vow: Those, those that bruise
His broken reedes, or secretly abuse
The doubtfull Title of a rightfull Cause,
Or with false bribes adulterate the Lawes,
That should be chaste; these, these th'Almightie hath
Branded for subiects of a future wrath;
Oh, may the iust man know, th'Eternall hastens
His plagues for trialls; loues the Childe he chastens.
ELEG. 13.
NO mortall power, nor supernall might,
Not
Lucifer, nor no infernall spright,
Nor all together, ioyn'd in one commission,
Can thinke or act, without diuine permission;
Man wills, Heauen breathes successe, or not, vpon it;
What good, what euill befals, but heauen hath done it?
Vpon his right hand, Health and Honours stand,
And flaming Scourges on the other hand:
Since then the states of good or euill depend
Vpon his Will, (fond mortall) thou, attend
Vpon his Wisedome; Why should liuing Dust
Complaine on Heauen because that Heauen is iust?
ELEG. 14.
O Let the ballance of our euen-pois'd hearts,
Weigh our afflictions with our just desarts,
And ease our heauie scale; Double the graines
We take from sinne, Heauen taketh from our paines;
Oh, let thy lowly-bended eyes not feare
Th' Almighties frownes, nor husband one poore teare;
Be prodigall in sighes, and let thy tongue,
Thy tongue, estrang'd to Heauen, crie all night long:
My soule, thou leau'st, what thy Creator did
Will thee to doe, hast done what he forbid;
This, this, hath made so great a strangenesse bee,
(If not diuorce) betwixt thy GOD, and thee.
ELEG. 15.
PRepar'd to vengeance, and resolu'd to spoile,
Thy hand (iust GOD) hath taken in thy toile
Our wounded soules; That Arme, which hath forgot
His wonted mercy, kills and spareth not;
Our Crimes haue let a Barre, betwixt thy Grace
And Vs; thou hast eclipst thy glorious Face,
Hast stopt thy gracious Eare, lest prayers enforce
Thy tender Heart to pitie and remorse:
See, see, great GOD, what thy deare Hand hath done;
We lye like drosse, when all the gold is gone,
Contemn'd despis'd, and like to Atomes, flye
Before the Sunne, the scorne of euery eye.
ELEG. 16.
QVotidian feuers of reproach, and shame,
Haue chill'd our Honour, and renowned Name;
We are become the By-word, and the scorne
Of Heauen and Earth; of Heauen and Earth, forlorne;
Our captiu'd soules are compast round about,
Within, with troopes of Feares; of Foes, without;
Without, within distrest; and in conclusion,
We are the haplesse children of Confusion;
Oh, how mine eyes, the riuers of mine eyes,
O'reflow these barren lips, that can deuise
No Dialect, that can expresse or borrow
Sufficient Metaphores, to show my sorrow!
ELEG. 17.
RIuers of marish teares haue ouer-flowne
My blubberd cheekes; my tongue can finde no Tone,
So sharpe, as silence, to bewaile that woe,
Whose flowing Tides, an Ebbe could neuer knowe:
Weepe on (mine Eyes) mine eyes shall neuer cease:
Speake on (my Tongue) forget to hold thy peace;
Cease not thy teares; close not thy lips, so long,
Till Heauen shall wipe thine eyes, & heare thy tongue;
Whatheart of brasse, what Adamantine brest
Can know the torments of my soule, and rest?
What stupid braine, (ah me!) what marble eye
Can see these, these my Ruines, and not crye?
ELEG. 22.
YEt sleepes thy Vengeance? Can thy Iustice bee
So slowe to them, and yet so sharpe to mee?
Dismount (iust Iudge) from thy Tribunall Throne,
And pay thy Foemen, the deserued lone
Of their vnjust designes; Make fierce thy hand,
And scourge thou them, as they haue scourg'd my land;
Breake thou their Adamantine hearts, and pound them
To dust, and with thy finall curse confound them;
Let horror seize their soules; ô may they bee
The scorne of Nations, that haue scorned Thee;
O, may they liue distrest, and die bereauen
Of earths delights, and of the ioyes of Heauen.
SIONS ELEGIES.
Threnodia IIII.
ELEG. 1.
ALas! what alterations! Ah, how strange
Amazement flowes from such an vncouth change!
Ambitious Ruine! Could thy razing hand
Finde ne're a subiect, but the Holy Land?
Thou sacrilegious Ruine, to attempt
The House of GOD! Was not heauens house exempt
From thy accursed Rape? Ah me! Behold,
Sion, whose pauement of refulgent gold,
So lately did reflect, so bright, so pure,
How dimme, how droffie now, (ah!) how obscure!
Her sacred stones lie scatter'd in the street,
For stumbling blocks before the Leuites feet.
ELEG. 6.
FOule
Sodome, and incestuous
Gomorrow
Had my destruction, but ne're my sorrow;
Vengeance had mercy there; Her hand did send
A sharpe beginning, but a sudden end;
Iustice was milde, and with her hastie flashes
They fell, and sweetly slept in peacefull Ashes;
They felt no rage of an insulting Foe,
Nor Famine pinching furie, as I doe;
They had no sacred Temple to defile;
Or if they had, they would haue helpt to spoile;
They dyde but once, but I, poore wretched I,
Die many deaths, and yet haue more to die.
ELEG: 7.
GOld, from the mint; Milke, from the vberous Cow,
Was ne're so pure in substance, nor in show,
As were my
Nazarites, whose inward graces
Adorn'd the outward lustre of their faces;
Their faces robb'd the Lilly, and the Rose,
Of red and white; more faire, more sweet then those;
Their bodies were the Magazens of perfection,
Their skins vnblemisht, were of pure complexion,
Through which, their Saphire-colour'd veines descride
The Azure beautie of their naked pride;
The flaming Carbuncle was not so bright,
Nor yet the rare discolour'd Chrisolite.
ELEG. 8.
HOw are my sacred
Nazarites (that were
The blazing Planets of my glorious Sphaere)
Obscur'd, and darkned in Afflictions clowd?
Astonisht at their owne disguize, they shrowd
Their foule transformed shapes, in the dull shade
Of sullen darknesse; of themselues afraide;
See, how the brother gazes on the brother,
And both afrighted, start, and flie each other;
Black, as their Fates, they crosse the streets, vnkend;
The Sire, his sonne; The friend disclaimes his friend;
They, they that were the flowers of my Land,
Like with'red Weedes, and blasted Hemlock stand.
ELEG. 9.
IMpetuous Famin, sister to the Sword,
Left hand of Death, Childe of th'infernall Lord,
Thou Tort'rer of mankinde, that with one stroake,
Subiects the world to thy imperious yoake:
What pleasure tak'st thou in the tedious breath
Of pined mortalls? or their lingring death?
The Sword, thy generous brother's not so cruell,
He kills but once, fights in a noble Duell,
But thou (malicious Furie) dost extend
Thy spleene to all, whose death can finde no end;
Alas! my haplesse weare can want no woe,
That feeles the rage of Sword, and Famin too.
ELEG. 10.
KInde is that Death, whose weapons doe but kill,
But we are often slaine, yet dying still;
Our torments are too gentle, yet too rough,
They gripe too hard, because not hard enough;
My people teare their trembling flesh, for food,
And from their ragged wounds, they suck forth blood;
The Father dies, and leaues his pined Course,
Tinrich his Heire, with meate; The hungrie Nurse
Broiles her staru'd suckling on the hastie coales,
Deuours one halfe, and hides the rest in holes:
O Tyrant Famin! that compell'st the Mother,
To kill one hungrie Childe, to feed an other!
ELEG. II.
LAment, ô sad
Ierusalem, lament;
O weepe, if all thy teares be yet vnspent;
Weepe (wasted
Iudah) let no drop be kept
Vnshed, let not one teare be left, vnwept;
For angrie Heauen hath nothing left vndon,
To bring thy ruines to perfection:
No curse, no plague the fierce Almightie hath
Kept back, to summe the totall of his wrath;
Thy Citic burnes; thy
Sion is despoil'd;
Thy Wiues are rauisht, and thy Maides defil'd;
Famin, at home; the Sword abroad destroyes thee;
Thou cry'st to heauen, and heauen his caredenyes thee.
ELEG. 12.
MAy thy dull senses (ô vnhappy Nation,
Possest with nothing, now, but desolation)
Collect their scatter'd forces, and behold
Thy nouell fortunes, ballanc'd with the old;
Could'st thou, ô could thy prosp'rous heart conceiue,
That mortall powre, or art of State could reiue
Thy'illustrious Empire, of her sacred glorie;
And make her ruines, the
Threnodian storie
Of these sad times, and ages, yet to bee?
Enuie could pine, but neuer hope to see
Thy buildings crusht, and all that glorie ended,
Which Man so fortifyde, and Heauen defended.
ELEG: 13.
NE're had the splendor of thy bright renowne
Beene thus extinguisht
(Iudah;) Thy fast Crowne,
Had ne're beene spurn'd from thy Emperiall brow,
Plentie had nurs'd thy soule, thy peacefull plough
Had fill'd thy fruitfull Quarters with encrease,
Hadst thou but knowne thy selfe, and loued peace;
But thou hast broke that sacred Truce, concluded
Betwixt thy God, and thee; vainly deluded
Thy selfe with thine owne strength; With deadly feud
Thy furious Priests, and Prophets haue pursude
The mourning Saints of
Sion, and did slay
All such, as were more iust, more pure, then they.
ELEG. 14.
O How the Priests of
Sion, whose pure light
Should shine to such, as grope in Errors night,
And blaze like Lamps, before the darkned eye
Of Ignorance, to raise vp those that lye
In dull despaire, and guide those feet that strey,
Ay me! How blinde, how darke, how dull are they!
Fierce rage, and furie driues them through the street,
And, like to mad-men, stabbe at all they meet;
They weare the purple Liuerie of Death,
And liue themselues, by drawing others breath;
Say (wasted
Sion) could Reuenge behold
So foule an acted Scene as this, and hold?
ELEG. 15.
PRophets, and sacred Priests, whose tongues whilere,
Did often whisper in th' Eternals eare,
Disclos'd his Oracles, found readie passage
Twixt God, and Man, to carrie heauens Embassage,
Are now the subiects of deserued scorne,
Of GOD forsaken, and of Man forlorne;
Accursed Gentiles are asham'd to knowe,
What
Sions Priests are not asham'd to doe;
They see, and blush, and blushing flee away,
Fearing to touch things so defil'd as they;
They hate the filth of their abomination,
And chace them forth, from their new cōquer'd nation.
ELEG. 16.
QVite banisht from the joyes of earth, and smiles
Of heauen, and deeply buried in her spoiles,
Poore
Iudah lyes; vnpitied, dis-respected;
Exil'd the World; of GOD, of Man reiected;
Like blasted eares among the fruitfull wheate,
Shee roames disperc'd, and hath no certaine seate;
Her seruile neck's subiected to the yoke
Of bondage, open to th' impartiall stroke
Of conquering Gentiles, whose afflicting hand
Smites euery nooke of her disguized Land;
Of Youth respectlesse, nor regarding yeeres,
Nor Sexe, nor Tribe; like scourging Prince, and Peeres.
ELEG. 17.
REnt, and deposed from Imperiall state,
By heauens high Hand, on heauen we must awaite;
To him that struck, our sorrowes must appeale;
Where Heauen hath smit, no hand of man can heale;
In vaine, our wounds expected mans reliefe,
For disappointed Hopes renew a Griefe;
Aegypt opprest vs in our fathers loynes,
What hope's in
Aegypt? Nay, if
Aegypt ioynes
Her force with
Iudah, our vnited powers,
Could ne're preuaile 'gainst such a Foe, as our's;
Aegypt, that once did feel heauens scourge, for grieuing
His Flock, would now refinde it, for relieuing.
ELEG. 18.
SO, the quick-sented Beagles, in a view,
O're hill, and dale, the fleeing Chace pursue,
As swift-foot Death, and Ruine follow mee,
That flees, afraid, yet knowes not where to flee:
Flee to the fields? There, with the Sword, I meet,
And, like a Watch, Death stands in euery street;
No Couert hides from Death; no Shade, no Cells
So darke, wherein not Death, and Horror dwells;
Our Dayes are numbred, and our Number's don,
The emptie Houre-glasse of our glorie's run;
Our sinnes are summ'd, and so extreame's the score,
That Heauen could not doe lesse, nor Hell doe more.
ELEG. 19.
TO what a downfall are our fortunes come,
Subiected to the suffrance of a Doome,
Whose lingring torments, Hell could not conspire
More sharpe! Then which, Hell needs no other fire:
How nimble are our Foemen, to betray
Our soules? Eagles are not so swift as they:
Where shall wee flee? Or where shall sorrow finde
A place for harbour? Ah, what prosp'rous winde,
Will lend a Gale, whose bountie ne're shall cease,
Till we be landed on the Ile of peace?
My foes, more fierce, then emptie Lions, are,
For hungrie Lions, woed with teares, will spare.
ELEG. 20.
VSurping Gentils rudely haue engrost
Into their hands, those fortunes we haue lost,
Deuoure the fruits, that purer hands did plant,
Are plump and pamp'red; with that bread we want,
And (what is worse then death) a Tyrant treades
Vpon our Throne; Pagans adorne their heades,
With our lost Crownes; Their powers haue disioynted
The Members of our State, and heauens Anoynted,
Their hands haue crusht, and rauisht from his Throne,
And made a Slaue, for Slaues to tread vpon;
Needes must that flock be scatter'd, and accurst,
Where Wolfes haue dar'd to seize the Shepheard, first.
ELEG. 21.
VVAxefat with laughing
(Edom;) with glad eyes,
Behold the fulnesse of our miseries;
Triumph (thou Type of Antichrist) and feede
Thy soule with ioy, to see thy brothers seede
Ruin'd, and rent, and rooted from the earth;
Make haste, and solace thee with earely mirth;
But there's a time, shall teach thee how to weepe,
As many teares, as I; thy lips, as deepe
Shall drinke in sorrowes Cup, as mine haue don,
Till then, cheere vp thy spirits, and laugh on:
Offended Iustice often strikes by turnes;
Edom, beware, for thy next neighbour burnes.
ELEG. 22.
YEe drooping sonnes of
Sion, ô, arise,
And shut the Flood-gates of your flowing eyes,
Surcease your sorrowes, and your ioyes attend,
For Heauen hath spoke it, and your griefes shall end;
Beleeue it
Sion; seeke no curious signe,
And waite heauens pleasure, as heauen waited thine;
And thou triumphing
Edom, that doest lye
In beds of Roses; thou, whose prosp'rous eye
Did smile, to see the Gates of
Sion fall,
Shalt be subiected to the selfe-same thrall;
Sion, that weepes, shall smile; and
Edom's eye,
That smiles so fast, as fast shall shortly crye.
The Prophet IEREMIE his Prayer for the distressed people of IERVSALEM, and SION.
GReat God, before whose all-discerning eye,
The secret corners of mans heart, doe lye
As open as his Actions, which no Clowde
Of secrecie can shade; no shade can shrowde,
Behold the Teares, ô, harken to the Cryes
Of thy poore
Sion; Wipe her weeping eyes,
Binde vp her bleeding wounds, ô thou, that art
The best Chirurgeon, for a broken heart:
See, how the barb'rous Gentiles haue intruded
Into the Land of Promise, and excluded
Those rightfull Owners, from their iust possessions,
That wander now, full laden with oppressions;
Our Fathers (ab) their sauage hands haue slaine,
Whose deaths, our widdow-mothers weepe in vaine;
Our Springs, whose Crystall plentie, once disburst
Their bounteous fauours, to quench euery thurst;
Our lib'rall Woods, whose palsie-shaken tops,
To euery stranger, bow'd their yeelding lops,
Are sold to vs, that haue no price to pay,
But sweat, and toile, the sorrowes of the day;
Oppressors trample on our seruile necks,
We neuer cease to groane, nor they, to vexe;
Famin, and Dearth haue taught our hands t'extend
To
Ashur, and our feeble knees, to bend
To churlish
Pharoe; Want of bread compells
Thy sernants to begge Almes of Infidells;
[Page] Our wretched Fathers sinn'd, and yet they sleepe
In peace, and haue left vs, their sonnes, to weepe;
We, we extracted from their sinfull loynes,
Are guiltie of their sinnes; Their
Ossa ioynes,
To our high
Pelion; Aye! their crimes doe stand,
More firmely entayled to vs, then our Land:
We are the slaues of seruants, and the scorne
Of slaues; of all forsaken, and forlorne;
Hunger hath forc'd vs, to acquire our food,
With deepest danger, of our dearest blood;
Our skins are wrinckled, and the fruitlesse ploughs
Of want, haue fallow'd vp our barren browes;
Within that
Sion, which thy hands did build,
Our Wiues were rauisht, and our Maides defil'd;
Our sauage Fee, extends his barb'rous rage
To all, nor sparing Sexe, nor Youth, nor Age;
They hang our Princes, on the shamefull Trees
Of Death; respect no Persons, no Degrees;
Our Elders are despised, whose gray haires,
Are but the
Index of their doting yeares;
Our flowring youth are forced to fulfill
Their painfull taskes, in the laborious Mill;
Our Children faint, beneath their loades, and crye,
Opprest with burthens, vnder which they lye;
Sages are banisht from Iuditiall Courts,
And Youth takes no delight in youthfull sports;
Our ioyes are gone, and promise no returning,
Our pleasure's turn'd to paine; our mirth, to mourning;
Our Hand hath lost her Sword; our Head, his Crowne;
Our Church, her Glorie; our Weale, her high Renowne;
Lord, we haue sinn'd, and these our sins haue brought
This world of griefe; (O purchace dearely bought!)
[Page] From hence our sorrowes, and from hence our Feares
Proceed; for this, our eyes are blinde with Teares;
But that (aye that) which my poore heart doth count
Her sharpest torture, is; Thy sacred Mount,
Sacred Mount
Sion; Sion, that diuine
Seate of thy glorie's raz'd; her tender Vine,
Laden with swelling Clusters, is destroyd,
And Foxes now, what once thy Lambs, enioyd.
But thou (O thou Eternall God) whose Throne
Is permanent, whose glorie's euer One,
Vnapt for Change, abiding still the same,
Though Earth consume, and Heauen dissolue her frame,
Why dost thou (ah!) why dost thou thus absent
Thy glorious Face? Oh, wherefore hast thou rent
Thy Mercy from vs? O! when wilt thou bee
Attond to them, that haue no trust, but Thee.
Restore vs (Lord) and let our soules possesse
Our wonted peace; O, let thy Hand redresse,
Our wasted fortunes; Let thine Eye behold
Thy scatter'd Flocke, and driue them to their Fold;
Canst thou reject that People, which thy Hand
Hath chose, and planted in the promis'd Land?
O thou (the Spring of mercy) wilt thou send
No ease to our Afflictions, no end?
FINIS.