University of Virginia Library

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64

Protestantism Reviv'd:

or the Persecuting Church Triumphing.

In Sable Weeds I saw a Matron clad,
Whose Looks were grave, whose Countenance was sad,
Pensive with care, she musing sate alone,
Her State too too unhappy to bemoan:
Deep bitter pangs I saw her undergo,
And pay the tributary drops of woe,
So wept Ducalion when he saw the State
And face of Nature chang'd and desolate.
By this dumb Elegy a while sh' exprest
The gloomy sorrows of her troubled breast.
Then heaving up her head, she silence broke,
And with a heavy sigh dejected spoke.
Good God! what grief surrounds my aged head!
What new distracting woes I daily wed!
Who am by spightful Foes in triumph led:
They pierce my side with wound, they break my rest,
And snatch my sucking Children from my breast:
My elder Sons inhumanely they treat,
My weaker ones they bubble with Deceit.
Thus they insult, thus put me to disgrace,
And spit their frothy Venom in my face:
My growing sorrows to compleat the more,
I'm flouted by a Babylonish Whore.
Put me to death they can't, since Heav'n decreed
I must not die, though with my Saviour bleed,
But humbly should in after-times succeed:

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65

VVhat most my anxious Soul tormented hath,
Is, he that should defend, betrays my Faith.
Thus, thus abus'd, I'm to all Griefs betray'd,
Thus my Delights are double Sorrows made.
VVho e'er was curb'd by such a Concubine?
Who so perplex'd? was ever grief like mine?