Nor youth nor age is from the slaughter free;
For in the streets lie young, and old, and all:
My virgins and my young men murther'd be,
Ev'n both beneath the sword together fall.
Thou, in thy days of wrath, such havock mad'st,
That in devouring thou no pity hadst.
Thou round about hast call'd my feared foes,
As if that summon'd to some feast they were;
Who in thy day of wrath did round enclose,
And shut me so, that none escaped are.
Yea, those that hate me, them consumed have, To whom I nourishment and breeding gave.
I AM the man who, scourged in thy wrath,
Have in all sorrows throughly tried been;
Into obscurity he led me hath;
He brought me thither, where no light is seen;
And so adverse himself to me he shews,
That all the day his hand doth me oppose.
My flesh and skin with age he tired out ;
He bruis'd my bones, as they had broken been;
He with a wall enclosed me about;
With cares and labours he hath shut me in;
And me to such a place of darkness led,
As those are in that be for ever dead.
He shut me, where I found no passage out,
And there my heavy chains upon me laid;
Moreover, though I loudly cried out,
He took no heed at all for what I pray'd.
My way with hewed stones he stopped hath,
And left me wandring in a winding path.
He was to me like some way-lying bear,
Or as a lion that doth lurk unseen:
My course he hindring, me in pieces tear,
Till I quite ruin'd and laid waste had been.
His bow he bended, and that being bent,
I was the mark at which his arrow went.
His arrows from his quiver forth he caught,
And through my very reins he made them pass.
Ev'n mine own people set me then at naught,
And all the day their sporting-song I was.
From him my fill of bitterness I had ;
And me with wormwood likewise drunk he made.
With stones my teeth he all to pieces brake;
He dust and ashes over me hath thrown;
All rest he from my weary soul did take,
As if contentment I had never none.
And then I cried, oh! I am undone :
All my dependance on the Lord is gone.
Oh! mind thou my afflictions and my care,
My miseries, my wormwood, and my gall;
For they still fresh in my remembrance are.
And down in me my humble soul doth fall.
I this forget not; and when this I mind,
Some help again I do begin to find.
It is thy mercy, Lord! that we now be;
For, had thy pity fail'd, not one had liv'd.
The faithfulness is great that is in thee,
And ev'ry morning it is new reviv❜d.
And Lord! such claim my soul unto thee lays,
That she will ever trust in thee, she says.
For thou art kind to those that wait thy will,
And to their souls that after thee attend;
Good therefore is it, that in quiet still
We hope that safety, which thou, Lord! wilt send.
And happy he, that timely doth enure
His youthful neck the burthen to endure!
He down will sit alone, and nothing say,
But, since 'tis cast upon him, bear it out;
Yea, though his mouth upon the dust they lay,
And while there may be hope, will not misdoubt.
His cheek to him that smiteth offers he,
And is content though he reviled be.
For sure is he, whatever doth befall,
The Lord will not forsake for evermore;
But that he having punish'd, pity shall,
Because he many mercies hath in store.
For God in plaguing take no pleasure can,
Nor willingly afflicteth any man.
The Lord delighteth not to trample down
Those men, that here on earth enthralled are;
Or that a righteous man should be o'erthrown,
When he before the Highest doth appear;
Nor is the Lord well pleased in the sight,
When he beholds the wrong subvert the right.
Let no man mutter then, as if he thought,
Some things were done in spite of God's decree;
For all things at his word to pass are brought,
That either for our good or evil be.
Why then lives man such murmurs to begin?
Oh! let him rather murmur at his sin.
Our own lewd courses let us search and try:
We may to thee again, O Lord! convert.
To God, that dwelleth in the heav'ns on high,
Let us, O let us lift both hand and heart!
For we have sinned, we rebellious were;
And therefore was it that thou didst not spare. For this, with wrath o'ershadow'd, thou hast chas'd, And slaughter made of us without remorse. Thy self obscured with a cloud thou hast, That so our prayers might have no resource. And lo! among the heathen-people, we As out-casts and off-scow'rings reckon'd be. Our adversaries all, and ev'ry where, Themselves with open mouth against us set; On us is fall'n a terror and a snare, Where ruin hath with desolation met;
And for the daughter of my people's cares
Mine eyes doth cast forth rivulets of tears.
Mine eyes perpetually were overflown,
And yet there is no ceasing of my tears;
For if the Lord in mercy look not down,
That from the heav'ns he may behold my cares,
They will not stint; but for my people's sake,
Mine eyes will weep until my heart doth break.
As when a bird is chased to and fro,
My foes pursued me, when cause was none;
Into the dungeon they my life did throw,
And there they rolled over me a stone.
The waters likewise overflow'd me quite;
And then, methought, I perished outright.
Yet on thy name, O Lord! I called there,
Ev'n when in that low dungeon I did lie;
Whence thou wert pleased my complaint to hear,
Not slighting me when I did sighing cry.
That very day I called, thou drew'st near,
And said'st unto me, that I should not fear.
Thou, Lord! my soul maintainest in her right:
My life by thee alone redeemed was.
Thou hast, O Lord! observed my despite;
Vouchsafe thy judgement also in my cause.
For all the grudge they bear me thou hast seen,
And all their plots that have against me been.
Thou heard'st what slanders, they against me laid,
And all those mishiefs they devis'd for me:
Thou notest, what their lips of me have said,
Ev'n what their daily closest-whisp'rings be;
And how, whene'er they rise or down do lie, Their song, and subject of their mirth am I. But, Lord! thou shalt reward and pay them all That meed, their actions merit to receive: Thy heavy malediction seize them shall; Ev'n this, sad hearts they shall for ever have; And by thy wrath pursued they shall be driven, Till they are chased out from under heaven.
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