Man's work they were, and men destroy'd them
Us therefore from his power vouchsafe to save,
That all the kingdoms of the world
may see That thou art God, that only thou art he.
WHEN I suppos'd, my time was at an end,
Thus to myself I did myself bemoan :
Now to the gates of hell I must descend,
For all the remnant of my years are gone.
The Lord, said I, where now the living be,
Nor man on earth shall I for ever see.
As when a shepherd hath remov'd his tent,
Or as a weaver's shuttle slips away,
Right so my dwelling and my years were spent,
And so my sickness did my life decay.
Each day, ere night, my death expected I;
And ev'ry night, ere morning, thought to die.
For he so lion-like my bones did break,
That I scarce thought to live another day.
A noise I did like cranes or swallows make;
And as the turtle I lamenting lay.
Then with uplifted eye-lids thus I spake :
O Lord! on me oppressed, mercy take.
What shall I say? He did his promise give ;
And as he promis'd he performed it:
And therefore I will never, whilst I live,
Those bitter passions of my soul forget:
Yea, those that live, and those unborn, shall
know
What life and rest, thou didst on me bestow. My former pleasures sorrows were become ; But in that love which to my soul thou hast, The grave, that all devours, thou keptst me from, And didst my errors all behind thee cast.
For nor the grave, nor death can honour thee; Nor hope they for the truth, that buried be. Oh! he that lives, that live as I do now, Ev'n he it is, that shall thy praise declare: Thy truth the father to his seed shall shew, And how thou me, O Lord! hast deign'd to spare. Yea, Lord, for this, I will throughout my days Make music in thy house unto thy praise.
THE LAMENTATIONS OF JEREMY.
HOW sad and solitary now, alas!
Is that well-peopled city come to be,
Which once so great among the nations was,
And oh, how widow-like appeareth she!
She rule of all the provinces hath had,
And now herself is tributary made.
All night she maketh such excessive moan,
That down her cheeks a flood of tears doth flow;
And yet among her lovers there is none,
That consolation doth on her bestow :
For they that once her lovers did appear,
Now turned foes and faithless to her are.
Now Judah in captivity complains,
That others, heretofore so much opprest,
For her false service, she herself remains
Among those heathens, where she finds no rest;
And apprehended in a straight is she,
By those that persecutors of her be.
very ways of Sion do lament;
The gates thereof their loneliness deplore,
Because that no man cometh to frequent
Her solemn festivals as heretofore.
Her priests do sigh; her tender virgins be
Uncomfortable left, and so is she.
Her adversaries are become her chiefs;
On high exalted those that hate her are;
And God hath brought upon her all those griefs,
Because so many her transgressions were.
Her children, driven from her by the foe,
Before him into loathed thraldom go.
From Sion's daughter, once without compare,
Now all her matchless loveliness is gone,
And like those chaced harts her princes fare,
Who seek for pasture and can find out none.
So, of their strength depriv'd, and fainting nigh,
Before their abler foes they feebly fly.
Jerusalem now thinks upon her crimes,
And calls to mind, amid her present woes,
The pleasure she enjoy'd in former times,
Till first she was surprised by her foes;
And how, when they perceived her forlorn,
They at her holy sabbaths made a scorn.
Jerusalem's transgressions many were;
And therefore is it, she disdained lies.
Those, who in former times have honour'd her,
Her baseness now behold, and her despise ;
Yea, she herself doth sit bewailing this,
And of herself, herself ashamed is.
Her own uncleanness in her skirt she bore,
Not then believing what her end would be;
This great destruction falls on her therefore,
And none to help or comfort her hath she.
O heed thou, Lord! and pity thou my woes,
For I am triumph'd over by my foes.
Her foe hath touch'd with his polluted hand
Her things, that sacred were, before her face;
And they, whose entrance thou didst countermand,
Intruded have into her holy place;
Those, that were not so much approv'd by thee,
As of thy congregation held to be.
Her people do with sighs and sorrows get
That little bread, which for relief they have,
And give away their precious things for meat,
So to procure wherewith their life to save.
O Lord! consider this, and ponder thou,
How vile and how dejected I am now.
No pity in you passengers is there?
Your eyes, oh! somewhat hitherward incline;
And mark if ever any grief there were,
Or sorrow, that did equal this of mine;
This which the Lord on me inflicted hath,
Upon the day of his incensed wrath.
He from above a flame hath hurled down,
That kindles in my bones prevailing fire;
A net he over both my feet hath thrown,
By which I am compelled to retire.
And he hath made me a forsaken one,
To sit and weep out all the day alone.
The heavy yoke of my trangressions now,
His hand hath wreathed, and upon me laid;
Beneath the same my tired neck doth bow,
And all my strength is totally decay'd;
For, me to those the Lord hath given o'er, Whose hands will hold me fast for evermore. The Lord hath trampled underneath their feet, Ev'n all the mighty, in the midst of me: A great assembly he hath caus'd to meet, That all my ablest men might slaughter'd be; And Judah's virgin-daughter treads upon, As in a wine-press grapes are trodden on. For this, alas! thus weep I; and mine eyes, Mine eyes drop water thus, because that he, On whose assistance my sad soul relies, In my distress is far away from me;
Ev'n while, because of my prevailing foe, My children are compell'd from me to go. In vain hath Sion stretched forth her hand, For none unto her succour draweth nigh; Because the Lord hath given in command, That Jacob's foes should round about her lie; And poor Jerusalem among them there, Like some defiled woman doth appear.
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