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Lamentation 4.

SONG XXVII.

HOW dim the gold doth now appear,
That gold which once so brightly shone!
About the city, here and there,
The sanctuary-stones are thrown.
The sons of Sion, late compar'd
To gold, the richest in esteem,
Like potsherds are without regard,
And base as earthen vessels seem.

The monsters of the sea have care

The breasts unto their young to give;
But crueller my people are,

And estridge-like in deserts live.

With thirst the sucklings' tongues are dry, And to their parched roofs they cleave; For bread young children also cry, But none at all they can receive.

Those, that were us'd to dainty fare, Now in the streets half-starved lie; And they that once did scarlet wear Now dunghill-rags about them tie.

Yea, greater plagues my people's crime Hath brought on them than Sodom's were; For that was sunk in little time, And no prolonged death was there.

Her Nazarites, whose whiteness was More pure than either milk or snow,

Whose ruddiness did rúbies pass,
Whose veins did like the sapphire shew,
Now blacker than the coal are grown,
And in the streets unknown are they :
Their flesh is clung unto the bone,
And like a stick is dried away.

Such therefore as the sword hath slain,
Are far in better case than those,
Who death for want of food sustain,
Whilst in the fruitful field it grows.

For when my people were distress'd,
Ev'n women, that should pity take,
With their own hands their children dress'd,
That so their hunger they might slake.
The Lord accomplish'd hath his wrath;
His fierce displeasure forth is pour'd;
A fire on Sion set he hath,

Which ev'n her ground-work hath devour'd,
When there was neither earthly king,
Nor through the whole world one of all
Thought any foe to pass could bring,
That thus Jerusalem should fall.

But this hath happened for the guilt
Of those that have her prophets been,
And those her wicked priests that spilt
The blood of innocence therein.

Along the streets they stumbling went: The blindness of these men was such; And so with blood they were besprent, That no man would their garments touch. Depart, depart! was therefore said; From those pollutions get ye far!

So, wandering to the heathen, fled,
And said there was no biding there.

And them the Lord hath now in wrath
Exil'd and made despised live;

Yea, sent their priests and elders hath,
Where none doth honour to them give.
And as for us, our eyes decay'd
With watching, vain reliefs we have ;
'Cause we expect a nation's aid,
That is unable us to save.

For at our heels so close they be,
We dare not in the streets appear;
Our end we therefore coming see,
And know our rooting-out is near.
Our persecutors follow on,
As swift as eagles of the sky;
They o'er the mountains make us run,
And in the deserts for us lie.

Yea, they have Christ, our life, betray'd,
And caus'd him in their pits to fall;
Ev'n him, beneath whose shade, we said,
We live among the heathen shall.
O Edom, in the land of Huz!
Though yet o'er us triumph thou may,
Thou shalt receive this cup from us,
Be drunk, and hurl thy cloaths away.
For when thy punishments for sin
Accomplished, O Sion! be,
To visit Edom he begins,

And public make her shame will he.

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Lamentation 5.

SONG XXVIII.

O MIND thou, Lord! our sad distress; Behold! and think on our reproach; Our houses strangers possess, And on our heritage encroach.

Our mothers for their husbands grieve, And of our fathers robb'd are we; Yea, money we.compell'd to give For our own wood and water be.

In persecution we remain, Where endless labour tire us doth, And we to serve for bread are fain, To Egypt and to Ashur both.

Our fathers err'd, and being gone, The burthen of their sin we bear: Ev'n slaves the rule o'er us have won, And none to set us free is there.

For bread our lives we hazard in
The perils, which the deserts threat,
And like an oven is our skin,

Both soil'd and parch'd for want of meat.
In Sion wives destroyed were;
Deflow'red were the virgins young,
Through Judah's cities every where ;
And princes by their hands were hung.
Her elders disrespected stood;

Her young men they for grinding took;

Her children fell beneath the wood;
And magistrates the gates forsook.
Their music young men have forborne:
Rejoicing in their hearts is none;
To mourning doth our dancing turn,
And from our head the crown is gone.
Alas! that ever we did sin,

For therefore feels our heart these cares;
For that our eyes have dimmed been,
And thus the hill of Sion fares.

Such desolation there is seen,
That now the foxes play thereon.
But thou for ever, Lord! hast been,
And without ending is thy throne.

Oh! why are we forgotten thus ?
So long time wherefore absent art?
Convert thyself, O Lord! to us,
And we to thee shall soon convert.
Renew, O Lord! those ages past,
In which thy favour we have seen;
For we extremely are debas'd,
And bitter hath thine anger been.

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