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A68937
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Sions elegies. Wept by Ieremie the prophet, and periphras'd by Fra. Quarles; Bible. O.T. Lamentations. English. Quarles. Paraphrases.
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Quarles, Francis, 1592-1644.
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1625
(1625)
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STC 2783; ESTC S102348
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18,344
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56
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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 'T is 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
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