Selected quad for the lemma: son_n
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A07556
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Londons miserie, the countryes crueltie with Gods mercie. Explained by remarkeable obseruations of each of them, during this last visitation. VVritten by Richard Milton.
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Milton, Richard.
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1625
(1625)
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STC 17939; ESTC S112778
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18,491
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41
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The thankfull minds we should and therefore we Euen for our sinnes most iustly plagued be Should we perswade our selues Almighty Ioue This Famous City did mor deerely loue Then others that his power could not withstand But in the former ages felt his hand Or shall we thinke that shortned is his Arme Or that he will not suffer so much harme To come vpon vs as he did to those That sinn'd aswell as we O no repose Nor harbor in your hearts so vaine a thought For euen as they were to destruction brought Euen so shall we if we do still offend And do not of our sinfull liues amend For as the Lord is by his mercy knowne To be a gracious God and he hath shewne That in his mercy he doth farre surpasse Which plainely doth appeare but yet whereas Almighty God in mercy doth abound Take this for certaine and a constant ground As on his mercies we may boldly trust So in his Iudgements is he alwayes iust Aye me I need not long to treate of this How many demonstrations dayly is How many seuerall bels do sadly ring The dolefull tune of this most certaine thing In this our present sad disastrous plight Whilst many soules haue bid the world godnight My flesh do tremble I amazed stand To see the force of Gods Almighty hand My hand do quake and eke my ioynts do shiuer To see what deadly Arrowes from his Quiuer Are now sent forth to this forsaken Citty Whose very miseries my soule doth pitty GO on my muse now and right sadly tell The dolefull sound that euery Parish bell Within this poore aflicted Cittie make That we may from our sinfull liues awake Our daily sorrowes and continuall feares Our losse of deere friends and our daily teares That we for them do shed the sundry moanes Deepe hearted sighings and the gricuous groanes That many a husband for his tender wife Sends forth for her that is bereau'd of life How many a wife mournes for her Turtle mate That now lyes gasping strucke by cruell fate Of conquering Death and when thou haft so done Tell how the father grieues for his lost sonne The wofull screeches many a mother mild Bitterly sends forth for her dying child How many a sonne weepes for his louing father Whose loue so deere was that he would more rather Haue dyde himselfe euen such was his good will But we cannot our owne desires fullfill How many a daughter grieues for her deer mother And many a sister for her louing brother And many a brother for his louing sister That knew not what he lost before he mist her Here weepes the seruant for his louing Maister And grieues that Death is growne so great a waster There sighes the Maister for his louing man For that he is not able neither can Saue his poore seruants life with weeping eyes The carefull mayden for her Mistresse cryes The mistresse likewise for her maide doth moane Because so good a seruant 's dead and gone Neighbour for neighbor one friend for another Their loues were such their griefes they cannot smother The Preacher for his flocke and they for him We waile and weepe vntill our eyes are dim And then O Lord a sad thing for to see Yet dayly such sad spectacles there be They that before so sadly moumed haue By other Friends are shortly brought to graue VVith much adoe for Friends are very few In this their last farewell their loues to shew SVch is the force of Deaths fell conquering hand That none in this world can his power withstand T is not the power of a mighty King Can serue to free him from Deaths deadly sting Much lesse the title of a Lord or Knight Can keepe their persons from this pale-fac't wight T is not the wisedome of a learned man No there is neither Arte nor wisedome can Be forcible enough with Arte or wile Eyther to stay deaths stroke or him beguile Marke it I pray you how he makes men reele His Bow is iron sure and his Arrowes steele How many through his might doe daily dye How many likewise doe there sprawling lye How many also dead in fields are found And suddainly in streetes dosall to ground Euen as they passe and then before were well And felt but little paine vntill they fell STay gentle death for I assure you can The parties held an vpright honest man You are about to deale I tell you more Of wealth he hath a great aboundant store And liberally he giueth to the poore Of that he hath the like giuen at his doore There 's very few that doth nay hardly any Although there doe in wealth surpasse him many I That is well done I commend you better And for your kindnesse will remaine your debtor That miserable griping rusty Chuffe That alwayes wanted neuer had enough And neuer car'd how many men were kild So he might haue his Cofers stuft and fild Ah wr tched Carle I trust that there is none True hearted wight will weep when thou art gone They in thy life time wept and were not heard Now at thy death they rightly may be spar'd KNow you what you haue done y 'aue flaine a woman That for her vertuous carriage I thinke no man VVill finde the like againe now good Sir tell To take the good away doe you do well Doth there not many an idle Gossip stay VVho long before wee 'd faine haue had away Leaue of for shame away now get you gone Goe take the worst sort leaue the best alone LOrd if 't were so what would become of me That know my selfe to be as bad may be For there 's not onely one but thousands more That I goe farre behind that went before Many a braue Scholler many a worthy Teacher Many a good liuer many a zealous Preacher That liu'd as lights and were to thee right deare So carefully they walked in thy feare But I alas haue much abusde thy will Had not a care thy hests for to fulfill Haue sinn'd extreamly and assuredly Had long before this time deseru'd to dye But yet O Lord I see 't is not thy will Thou spar'st my life wilt haue me tarry still And now I pray thee whilst I haue my being Sith that thou hast vouchsaft to me the seeing Wretch that I am of this thy mighty power Grant that hereafter daily and each houre For that same small time and the little space Of life that thou shalt grant me by thy grace I may redeeme time which I lewdly spent Bewaile my sinnes and heartily repent VVHen hoary hyems now had chang'd his hue And for that yeare had bid the world a due When trees gan sprout the grasse and euery thing Lookt greene and faire lambes skipt the bird did sing And with their warbling notes in woods did Ring Their makers prayse according to their kinde April the moneth was cald for so I finde For fore that time there dyed not any store That either had the tokens or plague sore