 | Divine poems
|  |
|
Eleg. 6.
Foule
Sodome, and incestuous Gomorrow,
Had my destruction, but ne're my sorrow;
Vengeance had mercy there; Her hand did send
A sharpe beginning, but a sudden end;
Iustice was milde, and with her hastie flashes
They fell, and sweetly slept in peacefull Ashes;
They felt no rage of an insulting Foe,
Nor Famins piching furie, as I doe;
They had no sacred Temple to defile;
Or if they had, they would have helpt to spoile;
They dy'd but once, but I, poore wretched I,
Die many deaths, and yet have more to die.
| Divine poems
| |
|
