The Citizens Flight With their Recall; To which is added Englands Tears and Englands Comforts: By John Quarles |
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 | The Citizens Flight |  |
Have I not seen a flock of Birds, whose flight
Has bin occasion'd by a sudden fright;
Fly up and down and clamoring in the Air
Expressed their sudden fright and present care?
Nay I have known such fear has been among
Those clam'rous Birds, that they have left their young:
Why does the City thus persue the Court?
Knowing, ah lass! this is no age for sport,
For Gaming's out of fashion in these times;
Yet we may stake, and pray away our Crimes;
The looser's only happy, for he wins
That looses, by Divinity, his sins:
But stay (Kind Reader) let's a little pause,
And see if we can finde, where lies the Cause;
What think'st thou of a sinful heart that lies
Groaning beneath his griping miseries?
What think'st thou of a sin-infected brest
That is by nothing but it self opprest?
What think'st thou of a Nation whose sad crimes,
Hath so infected our perplexed times
That tis impossible by humane skill
To give a Remedy to so much ill?
Call all thy faculties, and let them joyn
Themselves together, and by faith combine;
Let's search each cranny of our sinful hearts,
And let us weep as we have sung, in parts;
Lets weep untill our tears do over-flow
Our sorrow; let us sigh untill we know
What 'tis to barter happiness for grief,
'Tis only Faith can Crown us with relief.
Has bin occasion'd by a sudden fright;
Fly up and down and clamoring in the Air
Expressed their sudden fright and present care?
Nay I have known such fear has been among
Those clam'rous Birds, that they have left their young:
Why does the City thus persue the Court?
Knowing, ah lass! this is no age for sport,
For Gaming's out of fashion in these times;
Yet we may stake, and pray away our Crimes;
The looser's only happy, for he wins
That looses, by Divinity, his sins:
But stay (Kind Reader) let's a little pause,
And see if we can finde, where lies the Cause;
What think'st thou of a sinful heart that lies
Groaning beneath his griping miseries?
What think'st thou of a sin-infected brest
That is by nothing but it self opprest?
What think'st thou of a Nation whose sad crimes,
Hath so infected our perplexed times
That tis impossible by humane skill
To give a Remedy to so much ill?
Call all thy faculties, and let them joyn
Themselves together, and by faith combine;
Let's search each cranny of our sinful hearts,
And let us weep as we have sung, in parts;
Lets weep untill our tears do over-flow
Our sorrow; let us sigh untill we know
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'Tis only Faith can Crown us with relief.
| The Citizens Flight | |