Distressed Sion Relieved Or, The Garment of Praise for the Spirit of Heaviness. Wherein are Discovered the Grand Causes of the Churches Trouble and Misery under the late Dismal Dispensation. With a Compleat History of, and Lamentation for those Renowned Worthies that fell in England by Popish Rage and Cruelty, from the Year 1680 to 1688. Together with an Account of the late Admirable and Stupendious Providence which hath wrought such a sudden and Wonderful Deliverance for this Nation, and Gods Sion therein. Humbly Dedicated to their Present Majesties. By Benjamin Keach |
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 | Distressed Sion Relieved |  |
Thus, thus did I in Eighty make sad moan
For that brave Hero who was dead and gone;
But Oh my Heart!—A Cordial presently,
My Spirits faint! Ah me! Help Lord! I die
Unless I have relief, I can't sustain
My sinking Soul! was ever any pain
Or sorrow equal to what I now feel?
My burd'ned mind under her weight does reel.
Oh since that year what woes have I beheld!
How have my mournful Eyes with tears been fill'd?
I then did fear what since is come to pass
As in that Treatise plainly hinted was.
For that brave Hero who was dead and gone;
But Oh my Heart!—A Cordial presently,
My Spirits faint! Ah me! Help Lord! I die
Unless I have relief, I can't sustain
My sinking Soul! was ever any pain
Or sorrow equal to what I now feel?
My burd'ned mind under her weight does reel.
Oh since that year what woes have I beheld!
How have my mournful Eyes with tears been fill'd?
I then did fear what since is come to pass
As in that Treatise plainly hinted was.
Did Rachel mourn, and all relief refuse,
How then can I forbear? How can I chuse
But weep, and to lament for my sad Lot?
What Children have I lost? who now are not.
Did I for one such Lamentation make?
My Bowels now may surely throb and ake,
When I recount how many since are gone,
Who murdered were by bloody Babylon.
How then can I forbear? How can I chuse
But weep, and to lament for my sad Lot?
What Children have I lost? who now are not.
Did I for one such Lamentation make?
My Bowels now may surely throb and ake,
When I recount how many since are gone,
Who murdered were by bloody Babylon.
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