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
should hide Glory From such an honoured Soule which even 〈◊〉 Hath glorify'd from all eternitie And doth he give the Enemie his owne Place Hath God like Janus got a double face Doth the base Enemie so high aspire Whom oft he threatneth with consuming fire Yea and their prosp'rous State does oft redowne To magnifie the honour of Heavens Crowne The Usurer whose back beares all the Curses Of his poore neighbour could he fill his Purses By being godly he would venture too To pray to Heaven as the godly doo And could the base Adulterer bring to passe His filthy ends and meet a hand-smooth Lasse Each Sabbath day at Church this fellow he Would be an ugly hearer constantly The proud man he would make an ugly face And pray and heare if this would give a place Of gaine and honour to his high Ambition Thus holy Writ should serve each base condition But now the glorious Soule which Heaven aspires His heart is warmed by Diviner fires His life is circumspect his blushing face Weares the high ornaments of heavenly Grace This Soule is nobly righteous and it leanes On its Creator in the most extreames If sinne assaults the Soule it soone will flie To the high mansion of Eternitie For its protection there with trembling feares She bathes her bosome with repenting teares The lovely Heaven borne Soule has no false ends The feare of Enemies nor the love of friends Shall ne'r ensnare her from those Joyes above For why th' amorous Soule hath fixt her love Upon her glorious Saviour neverthelesse She oft may sit in woe and heavinesse And be in many an earthly contemplation When Heav'n brings War and Ruine on a Nation Then earthly reasonings may whisper loud When Heaven is cov'red with a sable Cloud Of bloudie War and Famine when they poure Those dismall drops in such a dreadfull Showre On one distracted Kingdome then what way When darknesse does eclipse the light of day Is there for soules to wander when its eyes Are bloudshot to behold those villanies Which bloudy Actors play when War shall reigne In height of envy numerous bodies slaine Imbracing gentle earth when death shall vaile Man in mortality all faces pall Because of hungry famine when the Child For want of friend and food is far exil'd From present necessaries and therefore lies With deaths pale Image in his tender eyes And when heavens darts shall flye like Sim Jim The soule is sad her funerall lights burne dimme When life is turn'd to death and food to feare She sometimes weeps as did the Prophets here Yet with a laden heart and watry eye The soule doth sometimes mutter this reply Unconstant state of earth shall any he That is but dust direct eternitie By his vaine babling can mortall man Guide the Celestiall Orbs by wisdome can He rule the earth by power can he stay The Steeds of Phoebus and tye up the day Nay can he rule himselfe or guid his mind Are not his waies as wavering as the wind And wilt thou teach thy Maker since thy birth What hast thou been thou peece of moving earth What hath thy tottring soule no faith at all Or is thy love to heaven so wondrous small Hath all this Un verse so little rest To give a tired heart and yet possest With love of this low earth my Saviour dy'd That through his death I might be glorified And shall I now resuse to dye for him Hath fin made these darke eyes so quickly dimme No let this earthly man through fire be try'd My soule shall live with him for whom I dy'd Where in the Canopy of his beauteous breast I shall sleep safe with undisturbed rest Have I so little power to controule The assaults of sin and death Alas poore soule Be gone my numerous feares away away After a tempest comes a shining day See see what dazling glory is behind You darkned cloud looke up my muzzled mind Flie on the wings of contemplation see Thy journies end is high Eternity And this deare Reader does most oft redowne To heavens honour when earths troubles drowne The Saints sometimes in sorrow earth 's a toy And this disjunction fits the soule for joy When on the other side if heaven should give A royall Legacie that Saints might live On earth most long and happy then might vice Count heaven a paine and earth a Paradise And if the world should often heare or see That Saints did live in high prosperity Each wretch would turne a Saint for his owne end Looking for earth by making heaven his friend But now go on brave soule do thou contemne All wordly pompe a royall Diadem Shall crowne thy arched browes thy present paine Thou wilt not reckon when thou com'st to raigne Heaven shal receive thee earth shall raise thy name In spight of sinners or their blasted fame And as thy body rests in deaths darke tent This verse shall stand upon thy monument This valiant mortall by a second birth Enjoy'd a Crowne in heaven conquer'd earth CHAP. III. Verse 1. WHerefore should Mortals labour thus to shroud Their publike Sorrow in a darkned Cloud Of Silence Why should Blacknesse cover all The mourning March of Sions Funerall I am the Man of Sorrow and Heavens Marke I am the chasened Bird the early Larke His furious Rod hath seized upon me On me the Monument of Miserie 2 Who ever saw this glorious Eye of Day Eclips'd in Darknesse And this Ball of Clay Wrapt in a Sable Mantle like black Night Covering the world with Mists whose Terrors fright All Mortals in their slumbers Thus mine eyes Dim'd with their teares doe weepe whole Elegies Of Lamentations while his hand hath drest My Soule in Troubles banisht from her Rest 3 My Soule is sad enough I need no more Such change of Torments then I had before I need no other Foe to come and slay My dying selfe and why then all the day Does my incensed Lord against me stand Why at a Mortall doth he turne his hand What will he fight with Earth Alas before Much time is spent we shall be seene no more 4 How soone is Beautie lost and Natures Booke Quite blotted out and with an earthly looke Departs this troubled world soone broke as Glasse The fleshes Glory is but withering Grasse Sinne brings in Sorrow Griefe makes Beautie old The Drosse is intermingled with the Gold The least of Heavens displeasure if he frowne It is enough to bring Earths Glory downe 5 Dull piece of feeble Earth and mortall Man A shew of something yet art nothing can Th' Almightie not consume thee lest he shall Build up a Worke against a tott'ring wall What meanes th' Almightie hand of the most high Thus to surround us whose mortalitie Will bring us soone to Dust each day we fall Insnar'd with Sorrow Bitternesse and Gall. 6 Times black hair'd daughter night that locks all eies And hearts in silent slumbring lullabies This swarthy nurse with darke and horrid theames That frights
lashes therefore can Another looke for safetie Shall Heavens Child Be lost be lasht rejected and revil'd Of the worlds Peacocks and shalt not thou A sinner feele the furrowes of his brow See how their Land 's defac'd their Wives defil'd How Famine kills and brings the hungry Child To his untimely grave whose friends are lost Virgins are ravisht new borne Infants tost Upon the souldiers Speares the women ript Up great with Child and so the Babe is stript From th' Bed of his Creation Elders lyes Having Deaths prospect in their aged eyes Imbracing lowly Earth with teares to trave A little favour to finde out their Grave See while their Citie burnes their eyes are drown'd In streames of flowing 〈◊〉 they doe abound In fulnesse yet have wane oh aske not why They long for life and yet they wish to die The tend'rest love is mixed now with hate They 're full of people yet are desolate They have some pleasure yet it â—s but paine Their gaine is losse and yet their losse is gaine For from the thirtie Verse of this third Chapter Our eares sometimes may drinke a heav'nly rapture From the harmonious Spheres which even then Dropt downe these Elegies from the Prophets pen And tells the world that Heav'n takes no delight To over-turne a mortall from his right On Earth it is his wicked sinfull wayes That brings in Death to cut his short-liv'd dayes Thus Love is mixt with anger sweets with sowre Joy midst of sorrow weaknesse matcht with powre Honey is mingled with our poys'ned gall Love with our Lashers Love's the cause of all Love 's in our labour Love is in our losse Love weares the Crowne and Love must beare the Crosse Love makes our Union Love's in our division Love's our direction Love 's in our derision Love's in prosperitie Loves in disaster Love is our servant and yet Love 's our Master Love seemes to be a foe yet Love 's a friend Love did begin our woes and Love will end Our dismall dangers Love commenc'd the fray And Love will turne our Night to shining Day Our Land had been too too unfortunate Like ruin'd Sion but that Love doth wait Upon the hand of Justice and is Crown'd Love gives a Salve when Justice gives a Wound What need we then grudge at Calamitie What is Mortalitie to Eternitie Since our best actions are but gilded ayre And words are wav'ring winde is it so rare For us to suffer trouble doe we merit With our Rebellion that we should inherit The Palace of high Glory and not thinke That Me … s eyes will shut Love somtimes winks To trie our pâ—rchas'd Graces and to know Our best of carriage in the worst of woe But what 's the cause then that the Prophâ—t here In the tumultuous stormes of trembling feare Doth pray against his foes what is it well To crie our worst of enemies downe to Hell Yea it is well not as they are to us Disquiet hatefull base malicious For here in stead of soes they are our friends While they conduct us to our journeyes ends The best and neerest way and then our brest Doth more imbrace that undisturbed rest In swelling soft eternitie beside Our strength of faith could not so well be try'd As by the force of envie but as he Which is our foe is Heavens enemie We ought to beg for his soone dissolution For his conversion or for his confusion Even so let them all perish let each foe O Lord be dasht with one one finall blow From thine Almightie Arme as thou hast made Them moving shadowes so much like a shade Let them soone vanish let thine enemies die And be forgot like their loath'd memorie And then oh then when the world shall behold The Drosse is purged from the purest Gold Which once was intermingled then each knee Shall bow unto thy sacred Majestie With lowly adoration and thy Name Shall be exalted with eternall fame And with a low incomparable grace Thy Saints shall sing in thy most holy place Those ravisht Halelujahs though we here Doe bathe our silent bosomes with a teare CHAP. IV. Verse 1. HOw dull's the finest Gold how quickly dim Is the bright Glory of that Diadem That once adorn'd Jerusalems Browes in State Where is the King the Priest and Potentate Her Priests do faint and in each corner swound Those orient Pearles are scatt'red on the ground As if they were most needlesse high and low Doe all fall blasted to compleat our woe 2 Where are those Noble Worthies Fame presents Sonnes of high honour Natures ornaments And Sions glory in whose serious eye Knowledge was seated in high Majestie To judge each loose offender Ah me may Such Clouds of Thunder now be Clods of Clay Can the high Potter make such Vessels poore Away vaine honour and delude no more 3 Is Love and Nature banisht and exil'd Can the fond Mother once forget her Child She can and will she does Oh wondrous strange How doth the Glory of Jerusalem change The carelesse Ostridge and the swinish Bore The poys'nous Dragon and the Lyons rose For lack of food yet give their young the brest But Famine lulls these Babes to endlesse rest 4 Alas poore Babe why doth thy dying soule Strive to live longer and thy heart controule Deaths summons to the grave whose ashie hand Shall passe thy soule into the promis'd Land His tongue is parcht with thirst he cannot speake He would implore some Bread but none wil breake It to his pining soule at last his eye Is clos'd in slumbring endlesse Lullaby 5 How is our labour Alchymiz'd to losse How is our Gold and Silver turn'd to drosse How is our Beautie metamorphos'd how Doth furious Famine furrow up our brow He that did feed in Silver dranke in Gold Now starv'd for hunger almost pin'd with Cold And she that once could boast of honor'd birth Lyes now imbracing of her Mother Earth 6 And is there nor a Cause oh wretched wee That we are follow'd with Calamitie Are not our sinnes more great then Sodomes Cryes Which pierc'd the Ayre and fill'd the Azure Skyes With Clouds of dreadfull Thunder Goods and Names In the descending and aspiring flames Were burnt to ashes in a hastie howre By the Almighties unresisted powre 7 Those comely Nazarites whose lovely faces Resembled Snow inricht with am'rous graces Of uncontroubled Love and were more red Then polisht Saphir on whose hoarie head Were threds of tangled Gold in stead of haire Where Love united Art Neglect and Care Love Art and Beautie Honour Grace and Wit Were the indowments of a Nazarite 8 How quickly are they blasted even now Deformitie hangs lurking on that brow That was a while so faire now black as coales Pin'd with the anguish of their hungry soules Love is deformed Grace is unregarded Wisdome despised Honour unrewarded Their skin is with'ted now the Nazarite he Is a black embleme of Deformitie 9 There are degrees in Death yet all doe tend To usher man unto his
destroy'd his Congregation The Lord hath caus'd the solemne Feasts to cease And all her Sabbaths ah what little peace Can mourning Sion see in any thing When God despiseth both her Priest and King 7 The Lord hath quite refus'd his holy place Where the high Priest did offer to his Grace Their rich Oblations as they dayly do His Sanctuary he abhorreth too The strength and fortresse of the pleasant Land Is given up into the Enemies hand Who with unhallowed mouths make harmony As in the day of high solemnity 8 The Lord long since hath threatened to destroy The Land of Israel and eclipse her joy And now her earthly right she must resigne Againe to him that gave it for a Line Is streacht about our Borders and we doubt How long this Line of woe is measured out The earth laments the walls do seeke redresse The Land does mourne in woe and heavinesse 9 Her Gates are sunke her mighty Barres destroyd The Citie 's open how can we avoyd The fury of the Foe her Princes gone Among the Gentiles we are left alone The Law is blotted out and none can lend A word of comfort when our miseries end The Lord speakes not by vision not by dreame To tell a period of our dismall Theame 10 The Elders they whose knowledge could confute Great learned Oratours are still and mute They hide their heads in dust their aged eye Is taught to weep and sometimes wish to dye Their loyns in sackcloath they have guirded round And silently they mourne upon the ground The amorous Virgins mourn their cloaths are rent Their beauty is like sorrows monument 11 Oh how mine eyes are blinded with my teares Pumpt from my sorrowes I am big with feares My Liver 's powred out upon the ground For our Lands losse and Kingdomes deadly wound The tender Infants in the streets do lye Imploring bread a little to supply Their hungry soules but yet they with vain moanes At last do dye with oft repeated groanes 12 A little bread the hungry Children cry Most dearest mother ere we quickly dye The mother weeps as fast she faine would give Her life for food that so her Child may live But as the dying Souldiers heart doth pant Labouring for life even so the Infants faint For lack of food the pretty Infant he Sleepes with deaths Lullaby on his mothers knee 13 What need I call a witnesse for thy woe To what shall I compare thy sorrowes oh Most glorious Iudah who is like to thee Blasted so soone so soone in misery How shall I comfort thee O fairest Land Alas thy ruines are beyond the hand Of Art to limne or draw thy breaches be Like mighty surges in the unruly Sea 14 Thy Prophets did delude thee whilst that they With Lyes fore-told thee of a Sun-shine day Their lying lips would not declare thy Lust Nor tell thee Earthly Glory soone would rust Then might thy Times to prosp'rous State been turn'd Thy Land not ruin'd nor thy Citie burn'd But now 't is levell'd even by their Lies Destruction posted on false Prophesies 15 And as the foraine Traveller doth passe He shakes his head and sighes woe and alas His wondring eyes admiring at the Land Which once was glorify'd with Heav'ns high hand Is this the Citie then the Traveller cryes Whose fame invited all the Nations eyes To looke upon her beautie This the Towne Call'd Earths perfection and her high Renowne 16 Even thus the Lord hath done his will on us The face of Sion is most leperous Her hideous Crimes are in her fore-head read The Lord hath done what he determined For he hath turn'd her Regall Glory downe The Heathen sway the Scepter weare the Crowne Our Foes on Earth doe flourish they doe rise It prospers well with Sions Enemies 17 Why goest thou weeping then oh Sion why Art thou thus troubled heaven cannot lye Though thou thy selfe art false what he commands Is finisht by his unresisted hands Thy horrid sins first furrowed up his brow With angry frownes and there 's no pitty now Dwells in his royall bosome but the foe He makes to glory at thy overthrow 18 And now our sinking soules begin to call Unto the Lord oh batter'd ruin'd wall Of dismall Sion once like shining beames Of heavens glory Let teares run like streames Along thy lovely cheeks both day and night Take they no rest but let thy conscience fright Thy soule from slumber lest thy darkned eye Be lull'd asleep in sad securitie 19 Arise and cry the first approaching houre Of silent night and let thy floudgates powre Forth streams of brackish teares mixt with a groan Lift up thy hands before the lofty Throne Of high eternity for the famisht Child Whose Parent 's dead and so the Babes exil'd From their deare mothers armes their lingring breath Longeth and waiteth for a welcome death 20 Behold O Lord our God to whom to whom Hast thou sent forth this heavy sudden doome Oh whom hast thou thus lashed shall we eate Our dearest Children up for want of meate Those pretty new-born Babes whose harmlesse eye Nere knew a sin must such sweet Infants dye And are our Priests and Prophets mangled heare Oh that mine eyes were drowned in a teare 21 Oh that mine eyes with silent teares were drown'd The young and old lye groveling on the ground The warlike youngmen and the amorous face Of spotlesse Virgins death doth now displace And laies them in their monuments they bow Their weake mortallity to heavens fierce brow If these the ruines be of our sad day With flouds of teares I 'le weep my selfe away 22 Thou bring'st my foes about my naked wall Thou giv'st them cause to glory in my fall And they do doe it wherefore dost thou lay Woes to my soule as in a Solemne day Thy wrath was kindled few or none remaine To scape from killing it was counted vaine Those that I nourished with mine own Cup My raging Enemy hath swallowed up CONTEMPLATION II. THe lab'ring Watch is idle if the Spring Be not wound up and thus in ev'ry thing There is a Motion for the Soule doth trace The Lawes of Nature or the Rules of Grace Our hearts are cold and various like the Moone Each minute changing if the righteous Sunne Shine not upon us all the world may marke Our Motion standing and our Glory darke But when the high Creator shewes his face And clothes the Mortall with diviner Grace The brave Heroick heart aspires to shroud His Contemplation loftier then a Cloud What amorous beautie in the world can shine Like to the Graces of a Soule Divine No black Disaster here can ever maske That lovely Face no troubles stay her Taske No mists of miserie eclipse her motion Nor no delusion hinder her devotion The Soule is full of Raptures and her eyes Reacheth Eternitie above the Skyes Th' amorous Soule on Earth is wondrous coy Desiring nothing else but heavenly joy Yet can it be as this lamented story Makes evident that Heaven
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
his Quill In vaine what man ere found the Prophet ly'd He writ your Ruine when he prophesy'd And then he pray'd for 't too if prayer may Not worke your fall why did the Prophet pray But to our Sceane why are our soes so heartie In their darke deeds there is a praying partie Waits at the gate of Heaven for a Seale To binde the Furies up in burning Steele And send the foes of Heav'n to travell on Fearefull Cocytus and black Phleaeton And the infernall Styae then you shall share In endlesse torments of the Churches Prayer Nay you will know the price of Prayer before That Death hath quite wip'd out Dame Natures Skore When your sick soules upon your lips shall sit And Death shall ' rest you with a high Court Writ And when thy feet and hanâ—â— by Death are bound And all about thee seeme to dance the Round And when thy envious eyes are almost blinde And when Hells hort or hath possest thy minde With their tormenting feares and when the Bell Shall tell thy tort'ring Conscience that new Hell Is readie to receive thee when the thing Thy couz'ned Soule did love are o◠〈◊〉 â—ings 〈◊〉 flye away when they shall sell and pawne Thy … pt-up goods and when the Curtaine 's drawne And all thy friends shall leave thee with a Crie And Death begins to close thy darkned eye How would thy Soule then prize one houre to pray And give a thousand worlds that Death would stay His summons but a while and let him speake A word to Heaven though his words be weake But now it is too late alas the eares Of Heaven's shut and neither cryes nor teares Cannot availe what can the sinner say His heart is hardned and he cannot pray Oh that he could then one repenting story Of faithfull pray'r turnes miserie to glory And then an Habeas corpus comes apace To bring the Pris'ner to another place This changes Death for Life all miserie Into a Palace of Eternitie Makes him to be Loves Monument beside Death is no Jayler but a gentle Guide If Prayer have this power then why am I So long in telling you their destinie That are the bloudie Actors of these Times And sonnes of Horror why doe these my Rimes Wrong thus your patience and my wearie Pen Not character the rudenesse of these men I le tell you why indeed I did intend But know not to begin nor how to end Is the world mad doe giddie mortalls see Their Soules consist of immortalitie And shall thâ—â— short liv'd Stage this transitorie Unworthy 〈◊〉 still be the worldlings glory Why is the Land in such a hurry why Doth Envie lodge in ev'ry loftie eye Why are our enemies of their wits bereaven Why in their furie doe they rage at Heaven And why thus ruine Earth and thinke it well To cut their passage to the Gates of Hell With their bloud-thirstie Blades what shall I say There is a godly partie that doth pray My foes for your sad Ruine these are them That are the Citizens of Hierusalem And the worlds wondrous Warriors whose cleane hands Are winged battlements for these weakned Lands By such as these th' Assyrians mightie Hoast Whose Gen'rall blasphemed Heav'n and did boast Of Fortitude and Valour yet did run With feare and horror ere the fight begun And yet they had good cause to runne and ride A hundred fourescore and five thousand dy'd That dismall ev'ning by an unseene Arme And Death did triumph in that num'rous swarme That measur'd out their graves others did flie When none pursu'd them with a mightie Crie 'T was Pray'r deliv'red Paul the Churches paine Set Peter loose knockt off his gingling Chaine And saved Barnabas if it be so Then this fore-tells our enemies overthrow Sing Drinke and Sweare Curse Vapour Spoyle and Play The Church ere long will keepe a holy-day In memorie of your Ruine for mine eye Beholds the Day is neere when you shall dye And your black Actions fall 't is very neere In a darke Cloud my foes you well may feare 'T is even at your doores I am sure you shall Have both a suddaine and a finall fall And in your graves when you shall sleepe in dust Your glory dies your Brazen Records rust Like to your rotten Names you shall lay downe A wearie body and a wicked Crowne Then a weake Child may travaile by your grave Nay trample on your honour yet not have 〈…〉 at his bosome you will be 〈…〉 Death lulls you to eternitie 〈…〉 this all proud man can ever doe 〈…〉 â—…owning Envie sleepe in ashes too 〈…〉 oh had now my hand an Eagles Quill 〈◊〉 write high Rhethorick or had I skill â—o picture those rare pleasures in my Lines Or paint those orient beames that ever shines In Loves illustrious Glory I could spend Perpetuall Ages ere I made an end Of embling Immortalitie for those That are the friends of Heaven and the worlds soes Those brave heroick hearts that ever are Above the Clouds upon the wings of Prayer And loftie Contemplation those who feares Sinnes guilt and horror and with silent teares Doe bathe their amorous eye-lids but I le misse The Caract'ring so rare a Paradise Lest I am lost and you too soone be drown'd Sweet Readers in amazement and I wound Your bosomes with Loves arrowes lest your eye Should slumber too much in Loves Lullaby Who can describe their glory lest he be Himselfe wrapt first into eternitie And so deare Land adue let Loves sweet Boy Crowne thee with harmonie of Peace and Joy And purest milke-white Robes cast off thy moanes And let thy voyce utter some ravisht Tones 〈◊〉 a well-measur'd evennesse let thy dayes Be past in puritie and spent in prayse Oh doe but banish sinne then a few yeares Will weare out quite the mem'rie of thy feares Then Heav'n will puffe away this darkned storme And arch thy browes in a victorious forme Give thee all Royaltie and thou shalt ride In Honours Chariot and be dignify'd Adorne thy beautious face with Vertues Gem Impale thy glory with a Diadem For present times thou shalt have Lessons sent For after-Ages a learn'd President He will not leave thee if thy gentle eye Can learne the part of the Spouse loyaltie England farewell goe dearest Nurse adue Forget not Heaven he will thinke of you His lovely Armes thy body shall surround If thy archt browes be with sweet Vertue crown'd Though I may fall yet let this Infant be Thy Guider and a Monument for me FINIS