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460

Eleg. 21.

Wounded, and wasted, by th'eternall hand
Of heaven, I grovell on the ground; my land
Is turn'd a Golgotha; before mine eye,
Vnsepulchred my murthred people lye;
My dead lye rudely scattred on the stones,
My Cawsies all are pav'd with dead mens bones;
The fierce Destroyer doth alike forbeare
The maidens trembling, and the Matrons teare,
Th'imperiall sword spares neither Foole, nor Wise,
The old mans pleading, nor the Infants cries:
Vengeance is deafe, and blinde, and she respects
Nor Young, nor Old, nor Wise, nor Foole, nor Sex.