The Historie of Ivdith in Forme of a Poeme Penned in French, by the Noble Poet, G. Salust. Lord of Bartas. Englished by Tho. Hudson |
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 | The Historie of Ivdith in Forme of a Poeme |  |
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And fruitfully the ground gaue her encrease,
VVhich seauentie yeare vntilled lay beforne
And nothing bare but thistle, weede, and thorne.
It pleased God (vpon his iust correction)
T'awake his owne, that were of his election,
Least that the lōgsom peace should thē withhold:
And dull their spirites, as doth the warriour bolde,
Who spoils his horse with pampring in the stable,
That makes him for the manaige more vnable.
He spred their land with bands of enmies stout,
VVhose cloudes of shot, be dimd their land about.
Their Hoste, with arrows, pikes, and stādards, stood
As bristel pointed, as a thornie wood.
Their multitude of men, the riuers dride,
VVhich throw the wealthy Iuda sweete did slide:
So that flood Iordane finding drye his banke,
for shame he blusht, and down his head he shrāke,
For woe that he his credit could not keepe,
To send one waue, for tribute to the deepe.
| The Historie of Ivdith in Forme of a Poeme | |