A paraphrase upon the canticles and some select hymns of the New and Old Testament, with other occasional compositions in English verse. By Samuel Woodford |
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The Song of HEZEKIAH. |
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 | A paraphrase upon the canticles |  |
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The Song of HEZEKIAH.
Ego dixi in dimidio dierum meorum.
Isa. 38.
I
Revolving the sharp Sentence past,And how an end, e're thought was on me come;
How soon, said I, have I approacht my last,
And unawares reacht Natures farthest Home?
Ah! now I to the Grave must go,
No more, or Life, or Pleasure know,
But a long doleful Night, in darkness deep below.
II
No more, my God, shall I see Thee,Nor the great Works of Thy Almighty Hand;
No more a Votary at Thy Altar be,
Nor in the crouds of them, who praise Thee, stand:
Mankind no more shall I behold,
Nor tell, nor of Thy Love be told,
Eve'n mine to Thee, shall like my ashes, Lord, be cold.
III
Lo! as a Tent am I remov'd,And my lives thread, which I thought wondrous strong,
Too weak to bear the Looms extension prov'd,
Ith' midst broke off, too sleasie to run long:
With Sickness I am pine'd away,
And feel each moment some decay,
All Night in Terrors, and in Grief die all the Day.
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IV
For as a Lion hasts to 'his Prey,And having gripe'd it, breaks the yielding Bones;
So on me came th' Almighty, whilst I lay
In vain expecting help, but from my Groans:
O take, said I, Thy Hand away,
See how I feel my Loins decay,
All Night in Terrors, and in Grief die all the Day!
V
Then like a Swallow, or a Crane,I chatt'red o're my Fears, his Heart to move;
The widow'd Turtle does not more complain,
When in the Woods she' has lost her faithful Love:
My Eyes, O God, with waiting fail,
Why shouldst Thou thus a Worm assail?
I'm Thine, O let for once th' Almighty not prevail!
VI
Yet do Thy Will, I must confess,Worse Plagues than these, my Sins deserve from Thee;
The Sentence past is than my Crimes far less,
And only Hell a fit reward can be:
Ah! let my Prayers that Doom prevent!
My age in Mournings shall be spent,
And all the Years Thou giv'st, shall be, but to repent.
VII
On Thy great Pleasure all depend,During which only, I and Mankind live;
To teach us this Thou dost Diseases send,
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Yet such is Thy resistless Power,
That when our age is quite past o're,
What Thou at first didst give, Thou canst our Life restore.
VIII
And thus with me, Lord, hast Thou dealt,Tho I for peace had only bitterness;
Th' effects of mighty Goodness thus have felt,
Beyond what words, or numbers can express:
For from the Pit Thou drew'st me back,
And that I might no pleasures lack,
Upon Thy Self the burden of my Sins didst take.
IX
Triumphant Saviour! the still Grave,For so great Love, Thy Name can never praise;
Nor in the Pit canst Thou Memorial have,
Thy Truth, or hop'd for, or ador'd Thy Ways:
The Living, Lord, the Living are
The Men, who must Thy Power declare,
And of them chiefly such, whom Thou like me, shalt spare.
X
They to their Children shall make known,As I do now, the Wonders of Thy Hand;
How when we eve'n to Hell did head-long run,
To stop our passage, Thou ith' way didst stand:
Lord, since Thou 'hast thus deliver'd me,
Thus made me Thy Salvation see,
My Life, and Harp, and Song, I'll consecrate to Thee.
ΤΩΙ ΘΕΩΙ ΣΩΤΗΡΙ ΑΝΑΘΗΜΑ. III. ID. NOV. 1667.
| A paraphrase upon the canticles | |