teare bedewed eyes Laments and sighs the maidens Lover dyes And now poore Sion must her boddy dresse In darke in dismall mournfull heavines 5 Her thundring Foes are lofty they are high That are the Actors of her Tragedy Her Pride and Insolence first brought this Rod Nor is it more then just that Israels God Should sometimes lash his owne since their owne Crimes Spurr'd on their ruine to these dismall Times The Fathers sins have wrought the Childrens woe The Childrens griefe the Fathers overthrow 6 That lovely beauty which did often shine More glorious than the day with grace divine Those amorous glances once which had the art To blind the Lovers eye and steale his heart Are now deformed and the ashy hand Of death hath spoyl'd the glory of the Land The Royall Princes which possest the Throne Of Kingly Majesty are fled and gone 7 Now sad Jerusalem sits and calls to mind All her Rebellion Ah she was unkind To sin against her Lord who checked Kings For Sions sake and gave her pleasant things Had she but clave to him as he was just Shee had not laid her honour in the dust Nor been a scorne for fooles which sometimes say What gained Israell by the Sabbath day 8 And wonder not Jerusalem is so mockt Of all that hate her for her sins have rockt Her senses to a slumber none do show The sad approaching of her overthrow The lovely City now they much despise Who sometimes honoured her their lofty eyes Looke scornefull one her in her misery thus That face is loath'd that was so amorous 9 Her shame lies hid to none both foe and friend Yet she remembred not her latter end Therefore her fall was wondrous sudden oh Why went poore Sion slumbring to her woe And who shall comfort poore Jerusalem now O glorious God looke on my miseries thou Art alsufficient thou canst blow aside The hopes of Mortalls in their height of pride 10 And now the furious Foe hath stretcht his hand On her rich Ornaments and pleasant Land And ' cause he thought this not enough to do Thy Sanctuary is polluted too Although O Lord thou once didst give command That no false stranger in a forreigne Land Should dare to come with his unhallowed eyes Where thine Annointed offer Sacrifice 11 Ah me who shall relieve me with some bread Our hearts are faint with hunger feare and dread Hath fill'd my tottering soule where shall I flye That Famine finde me not and so I dye My Garments Jewels Bracelets and my Rings Houses and Vineyards all my pleasant things I give for bread unto the angry foe Thou seest O Lord our soules are wondrous low 12 Looke backe ye travellers O cast your eye Ye wandring strangers that are passing by If you have any pitty come and see If any Nation were so low as me What sorrow is like mine what sufferings can Compare with Sions that befalleth man While the displeasure of my angry God Sweeps off my glory with his lashing Rod 13 The burning fury of the high Jehove Makes faint my heart his jealousie above Prevailes against me and I sit in doubt How to get in his favour or how out Of his displeasure ah there is a net Spread for my feet a scorching furnace her To burne me from my drosse that I may be Refin'd from sin and Sathans Empery 14 All my transgressious as a heavy yoake Are fastened by his arme and every stroake Is laid upon my neck my heart is weake Since my accused soule those Lawes did breako Which I was bound to keep the Almighty hand Of Israels God hath wasted Israels Land My glory is departed and mine eyes Behold no meanes for ever to arise 15 Those mighty Warriers which did shelter round The Gates of Sion whose brave deeds redound To Israels glory and their Enemies wonder Lie bleeding on the ground and trodden under The Lord hath call'd a counsell to consound All Iudah's glory on the Crimson ground The bleeding bodies of the young men joyne He trod them under as they tread the Vine 16 For these things do I weepe mine eye mine eye Doth wash my Cheeckes oh what felicity Can sad Ierusalem have in these diasters nay Those that should comfort me arefar away My Land is desolate all my friends are laine In strong Captivity and my Children slaine My God hath left me to the Enemies power Ah who will caseme in this troubled houre 17 Now lovely Sion sits with silent moanes She would implore some help by her deep groanes Alas but there is none the furious Foe Desireth nothing but her overthrow The Lord hath lay'd a mighty siege about The Tents of Iacob and she sits in doubt Of her deliverance while her Foes deride And loath her Actions as a wanton Bride 18 And yet our God is just and righteous too Though sad Ierusalem knowes not what to do The Royall City dow does mourne because She oft rebell'd against his righteous Lawes Ye neighbouring Nations that Spectatours be That sometimes looke upon my Tragedy Behold my Virgins and my young men go To long Captivity and ling ring woe 19 My dearest lovers which should have reliev'd me As sometimes Lovers do they quite deceiv'd me The Priest and Elders both for hunger faile Their lookes are wan their countenance is pale Their bodies weake and giddy is their head Their strength does faile their wills for lack of bread They seeke for food and find their labour vaine Famine and Death doth in the Kingdome raigne 20 Yet O my Lord how do my bowells yearne For mourning Israel the Foes are stearne My bowels swell my heart is turned too With woe and griefe what shall poore Sion do How can Jerusalems sorrowes but possesse My troubled soule with woe and heavinesse At home the Famine reignes the people dye Abroad the Sword doth compleat misery 21 Ierusalem knowes I dayly fit and weep Ah had security nere lull'd asleep This glorious Nation earths admired prize We should not then have drencht our watry eyes In teares for Israels woe nor been so sad But now our Enemies skoffe our Foes are glad Our Nation once was high and glorious But now are poore Lord make our Enemies thus 22 Oh Lord let all their sins come up to thee And do to them as thou hast done to me Puffe all their glory out and let them dye Like to false joy in midst of miserie And let us be delivered by thy Will Though we have sin'd and oft done wondrous ill O heare my sighs do not forget my moanes My â—eart is faint with oft repeated groanes CONTEMPLATION ANd is it so hath Israels God forsaken The Tents of Jacob Is their Citie taken And all their young men slaine does the most high From his owne Israel turne back his eye Does he withdraw himselfe and let the Foe To glory in poore Israels overthrow Is Iudah spoyl'd and do the Enemies swell While their black Actions often prosper well Does sweet-fac'd Sion mourne woe
and alas 'T is so indeed how came these things to passe Oh how mine eyes could send a floud of teares To wash this Paper while my deafened eares Are rouz'd with this allarum which is hurld By heavens appointment through the circled world But shall we thinke God is unjust in this To scourge his Children if they do amisse If the wide world had not some sufferings sure The lives of Nations would be too secure Yet heaven's not easily mov'd to send his Rod 'T was Israels sins offended Israels God But if the best of Saints so ill do fare Where shall the crue of damned Sinners share But in eternall darknesse whose black Tombe Shall scare the first but give the last their doome Go on then Sinners plunder kill and spoile Those harmelesse Lambes it is but for a while The time is wondrons short this Inch of time Thou mayst do much thy swelling heart may clime Unto the top of envy and it may Hazzard eternity in a short lived day Perhaps a yeare may finish up thy Course And then thou Son of Beliall death will force Thy soule to long eternity and thou must thither How will thy trembling knees then knock together When thou shalt know Death summons thee to dye With thoughts of torment in Eternity And last of all Is mourning Israels Land So soone subdued by heavens immediate hand Then let not England though the best of three Distempered Lands dreame of security The Nations who possest the aforesaid place Had greater measure of Celestiall grace And yet they were destroy'd can there be peace In Englands Borders unlesse sin doth cease Turne to thy God O England lest his hand Doth overturne the glory of the Land The black mouth'd Swearer he doth rend in sunder His Makers Name with Oaths like claps of thunder The proud mans scornefull eye does hate to see His beggered Neighbour falne in misery The lives of Harlots in their capring Schooles Are kept by young men Natures blinded Fooles The covetous muckworme he himselfe hath sold To live in service to the God of Gold A little after comes his Son and he Throwes all away in prodigality Wonder of wonders why 's not Englands glory As dim as Sion's made a bloudy Story For other Lands to read her downfall why Doth sin survive and yet not England dye Why is not London that was sometimes famous To the wide Universe now held as hainous As was poore Sion ah her sins abound Why dyed she not when she receiv'd a wound In the last fatall War why has this place So much of blessing and so little grace Why doth not fier range in every street Methinkes 'twere just that Sword and Famine meet While War did tumble all our Bulworkes down And strangers get the glory of the Crowne Indeed 't were just it should so while that we Are lull'd asleep in sad security The Prophet here laments his weeping eyes Are washt with teares because the miseries Of Sion was approaching often he Was bath'd in teares for their calamity But we so far from pittying of our Land Thus sunke in sin that with a mighty hand We adde unto her woe by sin and thinke The eye of heaven doth but sit and winke Oh glorious God who art that holy one Lovely in beauty whose most royall Throne Is borne by winged Cherubins most high Where mighty Angels praise thy Majestie What is this microcosmus what are we That thou O Lord shouldst take felicity In weake and feeble man whose borrowed breath Doth every minute journey to his death Why shouldst thou labour with this peece of earth Thus to protect him whose abortive birth Doth but begin his woe yet sleeps secure The Sun the Moone and Starres are too impure In thy most glorious eyes then what is man But a deserver of black Hellican Yet oh our God which art the King of Kings Lord of earths Territories our pleasant things Did all come downe from thee England did flourish When thy Almighty Arme so long did nourish And did so long protect us death and feare Were strangers to our Borders we were deare In thy beloved eyes but ah our woe Was our rebelion and our overthrow Is from our selves our blasted Land had been Counted earths Paradise but that for sin Yet Lord unite the Kingdomes let them be No more a Stage for that dull Tragedie We feare is yet to play Let it once cease And sound us now a harmony of peace One Act is past along oh let thy hand Give to the rest a powerfull countermand And let us now be lead by truth and love Those amorous Sisters which do dwell above And in the Lawes of love let Englands face Be drest with ornaments of blushing grace And then the last of our harmonious Sceanes Shall tell the world what 't is the Gospell meanes Those faithfull labourers in this Vineyard shall Advance the worke with hearts heroicall The Epilogue is joy which ends the Play The Church begins to see a happy day Her steps are lovely sorrowes have their date For love doth conquer envy governe hate CHAP. II. Verse 1. HOw soon is glory dimme the Lord doth shrowd The face of Sion with a darkened cloud His anger darkneth Iudahs borrowed light And her bright glory is as black as night Her beauty is deformed and that eye Where sat enthroned Princely Majesty It quite extinguish'd and the angry hand Or heaven hath spoyl'd the pleasant promis'd Land 2 The Lord hath mixed gall in Iudahs cup And in his fury he hath swallowed up The strength of Sion and her famous City Is turn'd to ashes for he had no pity Upon poore Sion all her holds are humble To his high hand her high battlements tumble To Prince and People folly is imputed And the proud Enemy has the Land polluted 3 The Lord hath cut Ierusalems strength and horne And all the treasure that did once adorne The royall Land of Israel's batter'd downe His countenance he masked with a frowne He hath withdrawne his warlike hand whereby The Campe of Israel made their Enemies flie But now his anger burneth round about The Land of Iacob who can put it out 4 And as an Archer bends his angry Bow To do some ruine suddenly even so He scattereth his Arrows which do vary His right hand threatneth as an Adversary And ev'ry thing on which the curious eye Did take a prospect did by Famine dye The house wherein they call'd upon his name Is levell'd even by a surious flame 5 What wrong can Mortalls do their fury high Is a weake blast but ah mine Enemy Is my offended Lord his wrathfull cup Is powred out and he hath swallowed up My Pallaces and holds are levelled he Hath brought my glory into misery He hath increast my sorrows oh mine eyes Pumpe flouds of teares with silent nightly cries 6 And as a flowred Garden barren made So is his Tabernacle quite decay'd And we are now even as a desolate Nation The Lord hath quite
all mortalls with her nightly dreames Does with her curled mantle and her charmes Inchant my soule to slumber in her armes Thus lull'd in woe to misery I went As hearses march to their dull monument 7 Oh why does the Almighty hedge us round Can this base earth be lower than the ground The lightfoot Roe-buck with his threatning horne Swallowes the ground up and his eyes do scorne The swift pursuer we inclos'd about Where food cannot get in nor Famine out What griefe or sorrow do I not possesse In chaines of darknesse woe and heavinesse 8 The helplesse Infant who with griefe is prest Seekes Sanctuary in his mothers brest And where should hungry soules direct their cry But to the Pallace of eternity And yet O Lord how oft do we Implore Reliefe of thee for we are wondrous poore But when our torments make us cry aloud Thou wrapst thy glory in a gloâ—my cloud 9 The prison is most dreadfull to the eye Of the sad soule that weares Captivity About his shackled heeles the gingling chaine Afflicts the prisoners memory with paine Thus we are captiv'd ah what shall we do Incles'd inchained and imprisoned too My soes my blowes my crooked ruin'd waies Cuts off with scosse the number of my dayes 10 Can endlesse love be angry will wrath never Be pacified will it live for ever In the Almighties bosome and his mind Ne're harbour pitty but be still unkind Against his chosen people thus to teare Like a sierce Lion or a surious beare Why doth thy Rod in secret places lye Alas poore we are ever in thine eye 11 Thus vain is worldly pompe the slourishing crown Of earthly glory must be trampled downe The shadowed beauty of mans little world Survives a moment then away 't is hurl'd Into a mist of nothing all my waies Are turned backward and my numerous daies Are now cut shorter thus to ev'ry Nation By sin comes ruine death and desolation 12 The skilfull Archer with his threatning hand Drawes forth his Arrow and his eyes doe stand Full fixed on the Marke his furious breath Sends early summons of ensuing death Unto the thing he aimes at so even so My angry God hath bent his angry Bow Where shall I hide me Oh the world 's too narrow To hide a mortall from his flying Arrow 13 'T is vaine my trembling heart for to endever To take thy selfe to flight for that can never Save thee a minute from his flying Dart 'T will quickly reach thee Oh my dying heart His winged shafts have hit me Oh the paine Of a sad wounded Soule on earth how vaine A thing is Pleasure Pride and Profit why Doth man so hug deceitfull Vanitie 14 Scoffe on my angry Foes and let your wiles Be painted over with deceitfull smiles Be merry Gallants let your Laughter rise With Tones of Musick to the lostie Skies Drinke Healths to Sions Ruine and yet know This is the Churches glory and thy woe No Kingdome 's conquer'd but it is by losse No Saint is crowned but he weares the Crosse 15 Urge me no more my soule is fill'd with Gall And bitter-tasted Wormewood Is this all The joy that Earth can yeeld Oh what delusion Hath lying Vanities to bring confusion Upon a tott'ring soule A flatt'ring Kisse Of Earth robs man of everlasting blisse Thus Folly is exalted for a Toy Poore short-liv'd man doth part with endlesse Joy 16 Mans Worke is vaine his Treasure is but travell Man pines in paine his Greatnesse is but gravell We fast we famish too these are our mones Our teeth in stead of food are broke with stones Thus doe we suffer by th'immediate hand Of Heaven and the beautie of our Land Is turn'd a heape of ashes while we have On Earth no Heritance but in the Grave 17 Thus my o'r-whelmed Soule beeame a stranger To Joy and Peace and dwelling neere to danger I sometimes taught my most discensolate heart These following words Ah tim'rous flesh why art Thou fill'd with feares the time is almost heere When thy Redemption Sion draweth neere My Soule forgat her songs for glory dyes Like shining Glo-wormes to benighted eyes 18 Ah sinfull soule hath Sathan got such scope Of mans bad reason that there is no hope Not trust thy God fond Mortall did thine eye Or eare perceive him ever falsifie With his poore Creatures but he succour sent Go rocky heart away thou monument Cut out of marble do not hurt my sence With unbeliefe with shame and diffidence 19 And yet 't was reason when I call'd to mind The monstrous earthquakes and the huffling wind Which turned Israels glory upside downe And gave the foes the honour of the Crowne That I should weep when I remembred all The bitter wormwood and the poysonous gall Weep gentle heart pumpe from my watry eyes The silent streames of mourning Elegies 20 My soule is sad indeed 't is truest moane When the poore Orphane sits and grieves alone Alone said I ah me I need not we Have thousand spirits more in misery Whose burdened sorrowes overwhelme their kind What are our words alas they are but wind Only remembring mine afflictions they Shall humble me in this my cloudy day 21 The Malefactour smiles to thinke on favour From the sterne Judge Sinners have a Saviour Yet they are alwaies angry and cast downe As if their glory were in earths base Crowne A Crown what if thou hast a Crown earths glory Is various vaine false and transitory Considering this sad heart thou hast good scope To rest thy tired selfe and live in hope 22 I cannot hold my heart must needs confesse Be witnesse endlesse love judgements were lesse Then our transgressions when they cried aloud To the high heavens and earths darkned cloud Lookt angry at our solly oh if thou Shouldst blast us into nothing even now Our soules should justifie thee ' cause poore we Know heaven lov'd us from eternity 23 As oft as Phoebus lights the darkned skies With mourning raies dazling all mortals eyes With fulnesse of his glory Writers say A blushing Evening brings a Sun-shine day Even thus our Sun spreads-forth Caelestiall wings Of brightest glory and away he flings Those hasty mists of darknesse which infold The tried Silver and corrupts the Gold 24 But Heaven is my Soules portion and my part Filling the vastnesse of my Soule my heart Cannot containe the treasure of this wealth 'T is sick of Love and yet in perfect health Glory and honour doth attend the man With highest joy that hath this Dowrie can There be a lack though Famine be so neere Feare darkneth Faith and Faith destroyeth Feare 25 The tyred Traveller in Summer dayes Seekes for some cooling shade to keepe the rayes Of hot Apollo from his fainting head When flaming Phoebus and his firie Steeds Are in their high Careere the Dog-starre flyes Barking with heat through Heavens Canopie Christ is this cooling shade his Kingly mind Rewards the worker he that seekes shall find 26 Thrice happy Traveller that
pitch of Pride And end oh sad Divisions end beside Your selves Earths Power Device and all The helpe of Hell can never worke our fall Come sweet-fac'd Vertue come and banish Vice Come Union make our Land Earths Paradise Come Loves triumphant Lawes and you shall be The Presidents of our Tranquilitie You orient glitt'ring Pearles that Earth count Toyes Shew us some glances of Celestiall joyes By Vertues raritie Truth Peace and Love You are those Sisters which doe dwell above Archt in the highest Glory are no lesse Then Royall Twins in matchlesse blessednesse Oh if our blacknesse may not blast your bloome Or if our stamm'ring words may finde a roome In your most sacred eares let Truth expell Those damned Errors that arise from Hell And let harmonious Peace heale up our Skarre And give a counter-mand to threatning Warre And then the last and loveliest of the three â—et Beautie looke upon Deformitie And make us like to you oh let our shame Love your blest memorie in immortall fame And as you move in your harmonious Spheares So guide our earthly bodies let our teares Wash off Deformitie which did annoy Make us an embleme of Loves highest joy Or else we shall if not by you thus blest â—ine out those dayes we number to our rest CHAP. V. Verse 1. REmember Lord our evils let them be Character'd in Gold in thy blest Memorie That lasting Register that righteous Scroule Conscience Vice-royall to th' immortall Soule Shall stand to witnesse while the sinner cryes To some vast mountaine to eclipse his eyes From the Tribunall Throne then Lord make roome For Furie let th' enemie have his doome 2 Our faire Inheritance like a short Song Is done and gone and thus we passe along Like Times benighted Shadowes so are we Tyred in pursuit of Earths Vanitie Yea Vanitie indeed were it not thus Why is the world so constant various Why should our Houses Vineyards and our paine Be our inraged enemies present gaine 3 Our dearest Fathers in their honoured Age By Death were summon'd from Earths troubled Stage And now they slumber now they rest and lye Rockt in Deaths Chariot with lost Lullaby Our tender Mothers having lost their Loves Mourne like th' amorous Widow'd Turele-Doves And we their sonnes who live in desolate Tents Are silent Ruines of their Monuments 4 The pleasant Rivers whose sweet erystall streames Refresht our soules with plentie like the beames Of orient Phoebus when he makes his way To cloathe all mortals with a Sun-shine day Yet these our Waters and our Wood is sold By weight and measure for the price of Gold Nay more then Gold our Bondage that may tell Coyne with affliction hath no paralell 5 The almost-tyred Horse would rest his Load From his gall'd shoulders in the dustie Road But for the Driver thus poore we would borrow An inch of respit for an age of sorrow We are as Horses to th'eitlemies yoakes Laden with burthens and pursu'd with stroakes Of our foes envie now we know how blest Is the rare royaltie of purchas'd Rest 6 What heapt-up Plentie had our flourisht Land Once for to glory in when her high hand Was stretcht to other Nations in reliefe For wealth and honour she was counted chiefe Among Earths Royall Princes now even she Of late inthroned in Earths Majestie Is sold to AEgypt and to Ashur so We earne our bread to linger out our woe 7 And it is just we should so while that we Live in knowne Folly and Iniquitie Our Fathers they have sinn'd we bear their Names And their Rebellion and why not their shames Our Fathers finn'd and dy'd and are we better Then our fore-fathers was not man a debter Since th' old words Creation by folly why Doth sinfull man then thinke so much to die 8 What in the world is more accounted vaine Then servants for to rule or fooles to raigne Over th'honour'd Age even such are we While we are captiv'd to Captivitie Thus Earth is various and mans renowne Is but a Dreame not worth the writing downe And if his glory be an idle Theame Who can expect realitie in a Dreame 9 Famine is feeble yet the hungry soule Is strong and valiant and he dares controule A thousand eminent dangers if that he May feed his hunger and necessitie Thus with the perill of our dearest breath We got our living in the spight of death In bondage slaverie labour toyle and paine While the Sword randevouz'd upon the plaine 10 Those Alabaster bodies whose rare faces Were drest with sweetnesse fit for th' imbraces Of undefiled Love now now alas Those flourishing flowers are but like the grasse The with'ring dying grasse parcht up with heat Black as the Oven thus for want of meat Poore Sion is deform'd with sinne and shame While Warre and Famine hath eclips'd our fame 11 Now wickednesse is ripe now sinne doth climbe Now Pride aspireth to the wings of Time Now fire is kindled in th'Adulterers eye With hideous flames whose wandring sparkles flye To catch at ev'ry object which he may Shewing black impudence in height of day Deflowring Maidens and defiling Wives They make their mem'rie stink like their loath'd lives 12 The valiant Prince whose Royaltie did shine Through Clouds of Envie now the foes combine By Death to dim his Glory and the head Of the wise Elder is dishonoured Base Earth these are thy gifts and therefore wee Dishonour Vertue by our honouring thee Let thine owne servants love thee which doe spend Time in vaine folly to an idle end 13 How is illustrious Sion now declin'd From her high Dignitie her young men grinde In the laborious Mill the flowred Age Whose strength and valour taught them to ingage In fields of bloudie Warre when the proud foe Could often witnesse their owne overthrow Though now we are in woe our Children crie Under their heavie burthens till they die 14 Those Lawes are cancell'd too which sometimes we Did memorize in immortall memorie The holy Elder sits not in the Gate With Heav'ns authoritie to predominate Our mirth is alcumiz'd to funerall Songs And like sad Elegies to tell our wrongs To other Nations while our following teares Feeds our sad eye-lids as our mirth the eares 15 The royall Tones which sometimes was afforded From the rare Instrument whose strings recorded A well-measur'd evennesse whose sweet story Emblem'd the harmonie of highest glory And Loves eternall joy now all is gone Our Dance is ended merriment is moane Our Musick metamorphos'd and our mirth Sings this sad Song oh false deluding Earth 16 Oh false deluding Earth honour and pow'r And all thy glory is as a swift-run howre Whose hastie minutes whose laborious sand Doth run to over-take the wandring hand Of Sols beshadow'd Dyall thus our Crowne Of Earthly Royaltie Time trampleth downe Woe to our soules that we have sinn'd for why Sinne makes up miserie with mortalitie 17 Therefore our hearts are sad therefore our sleepe Forsakes our eye-lids therefore doe we weepe Therefore our soules are