Songs of Sion Set for the ioy of gods deere ones, vvho sitt here by the brookes of this vvorlds Babel, & vveepe vvhen they thinke on Hierusalem vvhich is on highe. By W. L. [i.e. William Loe] |
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 | Songs of Sion |  |
165
A Metaphrase .
Of the first, and second chapters of Ieremies Lamentations for the sacking, & burning of Ierusalem, and the temple, by Nebuchadnezer king of Babell, and by Nebuzaradan the captaine of his gard, put into monosyllables of great Brittains language.
To his much esteemed good frend Mr. EDWARD MEEDE
one of the assistants of the most vvorthy companie of Merchants
Aduenturers residing at Hamborough. Grace in this vvorld, and ioy in the other.
The first depth.
Frō dumps, & doomes of vvoe
From depth of vvrath, & ire
we call, vve crie, vve roare o lord
With zeale as hot as fire.
From depth of vvrath, & ire
we call, vve crie, vve roare o lord
With zeale as hot as fire.
The state vvhere once thy name
Was great in light of grace
Is led a slaue by force of vvarre
A curse is in the place.
Was great in light of grace
Is led a slaue by force of vvarre
A curse is in the place.
Our streeats that flockt vvith folke
Most rich, in cloths most gay.
Are novve made void, & laid full vvast
By night, and eke, by day.
Most rich, in cloths most gay.
Are novve made void, & laid full vvast
By night, and eke, by day.
We that did rule, and raigne,
And brusd the vvorld vvith might
Doe novve pay taxe, & tole, & disme
By force of armes in spight.
And brusd the vvorld vvith might
Doe novve pay taxe, & tole, & disme
By force of armes in spight.
We vveepe full sore all night,
By day our teares doe fall
Our eies are sore, our cheekes are wett
Yet on the lord vve call.
By day our teares doe fall
Our eies are sore, our cheekes are wett
Yet on the lord vve call.
The second depth
Our prince is made a slaue
To sitt vvith folke most base,
We find noe rest but vvoe and moane,
& shame doth fill our face.
To sitt vvith folke most base,
We find noe rest but vvoe and moane,
& shame doth fill our face.
our sinne, our sinne hath greeud
The lord of hosts full sore.
Our shame, our shame for that doth come.
On vs novve more, and more.
The lord of hosts full sore.
Our shame, our shame for that doth come.
On vs novve more, and more.
Our things of vvorth the foe
Hath seizd all to his hand
They staine the church of thy great name
We cā them not vvith stand.
Hath seizd all to his hand
They staine the church of thy great name
We cā them not vvith stand.
The facts that vve haue done
Are all filths in his sight.
He pluckes vs dovvne, & none doth build,
Not one vvill doe vs right.
Are all filths in his sight.
He pluckes vs dovvne, & none doth build,
Not one vvill doe vs right.
We sighe for bread in vvant
We giue our vvealth for yt.
O helpe svveete lord for vve are vile
O dravve vs from this pitt.
We giue our vvealth for yt.
O helpe svveete lord for vve are vile
O dravve vs from this pitt.
The third depth.
In all my bones is fire
A net my feete hath caught
God turnes his face, & makes me faynt
His vvrath it hath me taught.
A net my feete hath caught
God turnes his face, & makes me faynt
His vvrath it hath me taught.
His hand is on my necke,
His yoke hath bound me sore
He beares his hād so hard on me
That I can rise noe more.
His yoke hath bound me sore
He beares his hād so hard on me
That I can rise noe more.
My men of force are gone,
My young men crusht vvith might
My maids, & babes are trod to dust
And all this in my sight.
My young men crusht vvith might
My maids, & babes are trod to dust
And all this in my sight.
For these things vveeps myne eies,
My soule is farre from glee
The foe doth force me to this woe,
And none doth care for me.
My soule is farre from glee
The foe doth force me to this woe,
And none doth care for me.
We stretch our hands for helpe,
And none doth take a care
We are as is the filth of all
They looke not hovve vve fare
And none doth take a care
We are as is the filth of all
They looke not hovve vve fare
The fourth dept.
My Preests gaue vp the ghost
While they did seeke for meate
The old men eke gaue vp their breath
O lord our vvoe is great.
While they did seeke for meate
The old men eke gaue vp their breath
O lord our vvoe is great.
I am in greefe o lord
Mine hart is fild vvith vvoe
The svvord doth kill, & Death doth rage.
For that thou art my foe.
Mine hart is fild vvith vvoe
The svvord doth kill, & Death doth rage.
For that thou art my foe.
When I doe sigh, & grone
Noe eie doth care for me.
My foes doe ioy, & glad themselues
My vvoe, & moane to see.
Noe eie doth care for me.
My foes doe ioy, & glad themselues
My vvoe, & moane to see.
O let my sighes o lord,
Loud crie make in thine eares
I haue done ill, cleāse me of that
And rid mine eies frō teares.
Loud crie make in thine eares
I haue done ill, cleāse me of that
And rid mine eies frō teares.
O lord vvhy vvith a cloud,
So black of vvrath, & ire
Hast thou vs clad, and cast vs dovvne
Why are vve burnt vvith fire?
So black of vvrath, & ire
Hast thou vs clad, and cast vs dovvne
Why are vve burnt vvith fire?
The fift depth.
The strength of all our house
Is spent, yea all is gone
The lords ferce vvrath hath cut vs of
To helpe vs there is none.
Is spent, yea all is gone
The lords ferce vvrath hath cut vs of
To helpe vs there is none.
He bends his bovve at vs
He shootes vs through full sore
He kills the choice of all our flocke
O lord vvhat vvilt thou more?
He shootes vs through full sore
He kills the choice of all our flocke
O lord vvhat vvilt thou more?
Our forts of fence, & strength
Our fields so fresh, so full
Are all laid vvast, our goods, our babes
Our foes from vs doe pull.
Our fields so fresh, so full
Are all laid vvast, our goods, our babes
Our foes from vs doe pull.
The king, & Preest at once
The church & state doe vvaile
The daies of feasts are turnd to fasts
The lord he doth vs quaile.
The church & state doe vvaile
The daies of feasts are turnd to fasts
The lord he doth vs quaile.
The lord hath cast dovvne all
They roare, & make a noice
With in thy house o'god our king
Where once vvas hard our voice
They roare, & make a noice
With in thy house o'god our king
Where once vvas hard our voice
The sixt depth.
The lavve, and all is gone
Noe preest, noe peere of light
The lord hath rid vs of them all
Not one doth come in sight.
Noe preest, noe peere of light
The lord hath rid vs of them all
Not one doth come in sight.
The graue men of our state
The sage, & such as giude
Doe sitt on groūd in dust, & clay
With sacke they cloth their side
The sage, & such as giude
Doe sitt on groūd in dust, & clay
With sacke they cloth their side
Mine eies to see this faile,
vvith teares they drope, & melt
The babes doe sovvne in midst of street
Such vvoe, & vvant they felt.
vvith teares they drope, & melt
The babes doe sovvne in midst of street
Such vvoe, & vvant they felt.
They crie for bread, for drinke
To all that stand them nighe,
And in their lapps that gaue thē sucke
They saint, & faile, & die.
To all that stand them nighe,
And in their lapps that gaue thē sucke
They saint, & faile, & die.
What vvoe is like to ours?
Our breach as seas doe roare
Theres none can helpe, or heale our vvound
O lord our greefe is sore.
Our breach as seas doe roare
Theres none can helpe, or heale our vvound
O lord our greefe is sore.
They that should see, & say,
And tell vs of our sinne
Haue taught vs things both vile, & vaine
Noe good vve find there inne.
And tell vs of our sinne
Haue taught vs things both vile, & vaine
Noe good vve find there inne.
The seauenth depth.
Our foes doe hisse, & gnash
Their teeth, & thus doe saye
This is the day vve haue sought for
To bring thee dovvne for aye
Their teeth, & thus doe saye
This is the day vve haue sought for
To bring thee dovvne for aye
But lord this is thine acte
To throvve vs dovvne each one
In dayes of old it vvas thy vvill
To bruise vs bone by bone.
To throvve vs dovvne each one
In dayes of old it vvas thy vvill
To bruise vs bone by bone.
Our teares doe shovvre on vs
To thee our harts doe cry
By day, & night vve take noe rest
Our soules doe faint, & dye.
To thee our harts doe cry
By day, & night vve take noe rest
Our soules doe faint, & dye.
We crye out in the night
Like babes vve hold vp hands
We faint for want of bread o lord
O rid vs of these bands
Like babes vve hold vp hands
We faint for want of bread o lord
O rid vs of these bands
O see svveet lord the babes
That are but a span long
We eate for foode, our Preests are slayne
And cast out as the donge.
That are but a span long
We eate for foode, our Preests are slayne
And cast out as the donge.
The young, & old on ground
Are cast, & faint, & die
Our maids so fresh, so faire in hevve
Are kild, & cast them by.
Are cast, & faint, & die
Our maids so fresh, so faire in hevve
Are kild, & cast them by.
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