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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A69225 Poems, by J.D. VVith elegies on the authors death Donne, John, 1572-1631. 1633 (1633) STC 7045; ESTC S121864 150,803 413

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in Sion which hath power To eate and her foundations to devour 12 Nor would the Kings of the earth nor all which live In the inhabitable world beleeve That any adversary any foe Into Ierusalem should enter so 13 For the Priests sins and Prophets which have shed Blood in the streets and the just murthered 14 Which when those men whom they made blinde did stray Thorough the streets defiled by the way With blood the which impossible it was Their garments should scape touching as they passe 15 Would cry aloud depart defiled men Depart depart and touch us not and then They fled and strayd and with the Gentiles were Yet told their friends they should not long dwell there 16 For this they are scattered by Jehovahs face VVho never will regard them more No grace Unto their old men shall the foe afford Nor that they are Priests redeeme them from the sword 17 And wee as yet for all these miseries Desiring our vaine helpe consume our eyes And such a nation as cannot save VVe in desire and speculation have 18 They hunt our steps that in the streets wee feare To goe our end is now approached neere Our dayes accomplish'd are this the last day Eagles of heaven are not so swift as they 19 VVhich follow us o'r mountaine tops they flye At us and for us in the desart lye 20 The annointed Lord breath of our nostrils hee Of whom we said under his shadow wee Shall with more ease under the Heathen dwell Into the pit which these men digged fell 21 Rejoyce O Edoms daughter joyfull bee Thou which inhabitst her for unto thee This cup shall passe and thou with drunkennesse Shalt fill thy selfe and shew thy nakednesse 22 And then they sinnes O Sion shall be spent The Lord will not leave thee in banishment Thy sinnes O Edoms daughter hee will see And for them pay thee with captivitie CAP. V. 1 REmember O Lord what is fallen on us See and marke how we are reproached thus 2 For unto strangers our possession Is turn'd our houses unto Aliens gone 3 Our mothers are become as widowes wee As Orphans all and without fathers be 4 Waters which are our owne wee drunke and pay And upon our owne wood a price they lay 5 Our persecutors on our necks do sit They make us travaile and not intermit 6 We stretch our hands unto th' Egyptians To get us bread and to the Assyrians 7 Our Fathers did these sinnes and are no more But wee do beare the sinnes they did before 8 They are but servants which do rule us thus Yet from their hands none would deliver us 9 With danger of our life our bread wee gat For in the wildernesse the sword did wait 10 The tempests of this famine wee liv'd in Black as an Ocean colour'd had our kinne 11 In Iudaes cities they the maids abus'd By force and so women in Sion us'd 12 The Princes with their hands they hung no grace Nor honour gave they to the Elders face 13 Unto the mill our yong men carried are And children fell under the wood they bare 14 Elders the gates youth did their songs forbeare Gone was our joy our dancings mournings were 15 Now is the crowne falne from our head and woe Be unto us because we'have sinned so 16 For this our hearts do languish and for this Over our eyes a cloudy dimnesse is 17 Because mount Sion desolate doth lye And foxes there do goe at libertie 18 But thou O Lord art ever and thy throne From generation to generation 19 Why should'st thou forget us eternally Or leave us thus long in this misery 20 Restore us Lord to thee that so we may Returne and as of old renew our day 21 For oughtest thou O Lord despise us thus 22 And to be utterly enrag'd at us SATYRES Satyre I. AWay thou fondling motley humorist Leave mee and in this standing woodden chest Consorted with these few bookes let me lye In prison and here be coffin'd when I dye Here are Gods conduits grave Divines and here Natures Secretary the Philosopher And jolly Statesmen which teach how to tie The sinewes of a cities mistique bodie Here gathering Chroniclers and by them stand Giddie fantastique Poëts of each land Shall I leave all this constant company And follow headlong wild uncertaine thee First sweare by thy best love in earnest If thou which lov'st all canst love any best Thou wilt not leave mee in the middle street Though some more spruce companion thou dost meet Not though a Captaine do come in thy way Bright parcell gilt with forty dead mens pay Not though a briske perfum'd piert Courtier Deigne with a nod thy courtesie to answer Nor come a velvet Justice with a long Great traine of blew coats twelve or fourteen strong Wilt thou grin or fawne on him or prepare A speech to Court his beautious sonne and heire For better or worse take mee or leave mee To take and leave mee is adultery Oh monstrous superstitious puritan Of refin'd manners yet ceremoniall man That when thou meet'st one with enquiring eyes Dost search and like a needy broker prize The silke and gold he weares and to that rate So high or low dost raise thy formall hate That wilt consort none untill thou have knowne What lands hee hath in hope or of his owne As though all thy companions should make thee Jointures and marry thy deare company Why should'st thou that dost not onely approve But in ranke it chie lust desire and love The nakednesse and barrennesse to enjoy of thy plumpe muddy whore or prostitute boy Hate vertue though shee be naked and bare At birth and death our bodies naked are And till our Soules be unapparrelled Of bodies they from blisse are banished Mans first blest state was naked when by sinne Hee lost that yet hee was cloath'd but in beasts skin And in this course attire which I now weare With God and with the Muses I conferre But since thou like a contrite penitent Charitably warm'd of thy sinnes dost repent These vanities and giddinesses loe I shut my chamber doore and come le ts goe But sooner may a cheape whore who hath beene Worne by as many severall men in sinne As are black feathers or musk-colour hose Name her childs right true father ' mongst all those Sooner may one guesse who shall beare away The infant of London Heire to an India And sooner may a gulling weather Spie By drawing forth heavens Sceanes tell certainly What fashioned hats or ruffes or suits next yeare Our subtile wittied antique youths will weare Then thou when thou depart'st from mee can show Whither why when or with whom thou wouldst go But how shall I be pardon'd my offence That thus have sinn'd against my conscience Now we are in the street He first of all Improvidently proud creepes to the wall And so imprisoned and hem'd in by mee Sells for a little state high libertie Yet though he cannot skip forth now to greet