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 |  |
My toung me failes, my hair for dread vpstarts,
My heauie spirite, from pensiue corps departs.
VVhen I bethinke me of yone tyrant stout,
who hath bedround the world with bloud about:
Approching threats our townes with firie flames,
Our selfs with death, dishonour to our Dames.
Yet when I call to minde the curtsie great,
That this great Lord doth vse, who doth entreate
Not onely those that beastiall are become,
And haue their hope in brutall Idols dome,
But euen to zealous folke who do embrace,
The faith, and law, like vs of Abrahms race:
who being well aduisde, did humblie sue
His pardon, and escapte his vengeance due,
then thanke I God who sends vs such a foe,
As plagues the proude, and lets the humble goe:
For we assoone, shall vanquish him with teares,
As will be long, to wrak him with our weares.
Then whilest we may haue choice of either state
of peace or warres, his fauour, or his hate.
Let vs not follow (seeing skath at hand)
the follie of our fathers, to gainstand.
But rather let vs beare a lower saile,
And serue his king as best for our a waile.
But thinke not yet, that I this councell giue
for craft, or warrant for my selfe to liue:
For I haue els my dayes so nearly spent,
that for to dye I could be well content.
The Assyrian neede not in my brest to strike,
His fethred Dart, nor yet his trembling pike:
Yea if my youth to me should eft returne,
And make my youthly bloode within me burne,
So honour I my God, and contrey deare,
that for to dye for them, I would not feare:
As Sampson did, if so my death might yeld:
The victorie of the Vizroy, and the field.
But most (I feare) least we with curious zeale,
Fight for the lawe, yet fight against her weale,
Against our selfs, to bring so great a wracke:
that proude, and cruell tyrants shall vs sacke,
And grow in pride (suppressing Iudaes strength)
For to contemne the glorie of God at length.
For Israell being lost, who shall ensue,
to render here to God deuotions due?
what people sparsed on this earthly ball
From Indian shoare to where the Sunne doth fall,
Or from the Climate of the northren blast,
Vnto that place where sommer aye doth last:
Hath God elect, saue Israell for his owne
Vpon this Hill to haue his glorie showne?
My heauie spirite, from pensiue corps departs.
VVhen I bethinke me of yone tyrant stout,
who hath bedround the world with bloud about:
Approching threats our townes with firie flames,
Our selfs with death, dishonour to our Dames.
Yet when I call to minde the curtsie great,
That this great Lord doth vse, who doth entreate
Not onely those that beastiall are become,
And haue their hope in brutall Idols dome,
But euen to zealous folke who do embrace,
The faith, and law, like vs of Abrahms race:
who being well aduisde, did humblie sue
His pardon, and escapte his vengeance due,
then thanke I God who sends vs such a foe,
As plagues the proude, and lets the humble goe:
For we assoone, shall vanquish him with teares,
As will be long, to wrak him with our weares.
Then whilest we may haue choice of either state
of peace or warres, his fauour, or his hate.
Let vs not follow (seeing skath at hand)
the follie of our fathers, to gainstand.
But rather let vs beare a lower saile,
And serue his king as best for our a waile.
But thinke not yet, that I this councell giue
for craft, or warrant for my selfe to liue:
For I haue els my dayes so nearly spent,
that for to dye I could be well content.
10
His fethred Dart, nor yet his trembling pike:
Yea if my youth to me should eft returne,
And make my youthly bloode within me burne,
So honour I my God, and contrey deare,
that for to dye for them, I would not feare:
As Sampson did, if so my death might yeld:
The victorie of the Vizroy, and the field.
But most (I feare) least we with curious zeale,
Fight for the lawe, yet fight against her weale,
Against our selfs, to bring so great a wracke:
that proude, and cruell tyrants shall vs sacke,
And grow in pride (suppressing Iudaes strength)
For to contemne the glorie of God at length.
For Israell being lost, who shall ensue,
to render here to God deuotions due?
what people sparsed on this earthly ball
From Indian shoare to where the Sunne doth fall,
Or from the Climate of the northren blast,
Vnto that place where sommer aye doth last:
Hath God elect, saue Israell for his owne
Vpon this Hill to haue his glorie showne?
| The Historie of Ivdith in Forme of a Poeme | |