Sith Israel (O wil-full!) will not hear;
Hearken O Heavens, and O thou Earth giue ear
Vnto my voyce, and Witness (on my part)
Before the Lord, my zeal and their hard hart.
O Heav'n and Earth attend vnto my Song,
Hear my discourse, which sweetly slides along;
As silver showrs on the dry Meads do trill,
And hony deaws, on tender grass distill.
God grant (I pray) that in their hearts my Verse
(As water on the withered Lawns) may pearce:
And that the hony dropping from my tongue
May serue the olde for rain, for deaw the young.
I sing th'Eternall: O let Heav'n and Earth
Com praise him with me, sound his glory forth,
Extoll his powr, his perfect Works record,
Truth, Goodnes, Greatnes, Iustice of the Lord.
But, though for ever He haue showen him such;
His children yet (no Children, rather much
A Bastard Race) full of malicious sin,
All kinde of vice haue foully wallowed in.
O foolish People! doost thou thus requite
His Father-care, who fenç't thee day and night,
As with a Shield? Who chose thee as his heir?
Who made thee, of so foul a mass, so fair?
Vn-winde the bottom of olde Times again,
Of Ages past vn-reel the snarled skain:
Ask of thy Parents and they shall declare;
Thine Elders, and they'l tell thee Wonders rare.
They'l tell thee, how, when first the Lord had spred
Men on the Earth, and iustly levelled
His strait long Measure, th'All-Ball to divide,
He did for thee a plentious Land provide:
For his deer Iacob, whom his fauour then
Seem'd t'haue sequestred from the rest of men,
To th'end his Blessed Seed (in future age)
Should be his care, Loue, Lot and Heritage.
They'l tell thee too, how through the sandy horror
Of a vast Desart, Den of ghastly Terror,
Of Thirst and Hunger, and of Serpents fell,
He by the hand conducted Israel:
Yea (of his goodnes) to direct him still,
By Word and Writ show'd him his sacred Will;
Vnder his wings shade hid him tenderly,
And held him deer, as apple of his ey.
As is the royall Eagle's sacred wont,
When she would teach her tender Birds to mount,
To flie and cry about her Nest, to cheer-them;
And when they faint, on her wingd back to bear-them:
God (without aid of other Gods or Graces)
Safe guide, hath made him mount the highest Places,
Such Oyl and Hony from the Rocks distilling,
In plentious Land with pleasant Fruits him filling.
He gaue him Milk and Butter for his meat,
Kid, Lamb, and Mutton, with the flowr of Wheat;
And for his Drink, a most delicious Wine
(The sprightfull blood of the broad-spreading Vine).
But, waxen fat, he lifts his wanton heel
Against his God (to whom his soule should kneel:
Forsakes his Maker, and contemns the Same
That saved him from danger, death, and shame.
Then, he inflam'd the fury of the Lord,
With profane bowing to false Gods abhord:
With serving Idols, and with Sacrificing
To Fiends, and Phansies of his own devising.
For vain false gods, gods vn-renown'd, and new,
Gods that his Fathers nor he never knew,
He hath forgot the true eternall Beeing,
The God of whom he holdes his bliss and being.
God saw it well, and Iealously a-fire,
Against his Children thus he threats his ire:
No; I will hide the brightness of my face,
I'll take from them the treasures of my grace,
Then let vs see what will of them becom:
But, what but mischiefe can vnto them com,
That so perverse with every puff let fly
Their Faith, sole constant in inconstancy?
Th'have made me ieloux of a god, no god:
I'll make them ieloux, I will Wed (abroad)
A People (yet) no People: And their brest
Shall split, for spight, to see the Nations blest.
Devouring Fire, that from my heart doth fume,
Shall fiercely burn and in my wrath consume
The deep of Deeps, the middle Downs, and Fields,
And strong foundations of the steepest Hils.
I'll spend on them my store of punishments,
And all mine Arrows; Famine, Pestilence,
Wilde Beasts, and Worms that basely crawling are,
Without remorse shall make them end-less War.
Abroad, the Sword their strong men shall devour,
At home, through Fear, the Virgin in her flowr,
The fresh young Youth, the sucking Children small,
And hoary head, dead to the ground shall fall.
Yea, even already would I quite deface
And clean destroy them, I would Iacob race,
Raze his memoriall from the Earth for ay,
But that I fear the Heathen thus would say:
We haue prevail'd, we by our strength alone
Have quell'd this People, and them over-throwen:
'Twas not their God that did it for their Sins;
No, He himselfe is vanquisht with his Friends.
Ha! sottish blocks, void of all sense and sight:
Could one man put a thousand men to flight;
And two, ten thousand, if the God of Arms
Had not even sould their Troops and bourd their arms?
For God, our God, doth all their gods surpass:
They knowe it well: but, their Wine springs (alas!)
From Sodom's Vine, and grew in Gomor's fields,
Which Gall for Grapes, for Raysins Poyson yeelds.
It is no Wine: no, the black bane it is,
The killing vomit of the Cockatrice;
'Tis bitter venom, 'tis the same that coms
From the fell Aspik's foul infecting gums.
Do not I know it? keep not I account
(In mine Exchequer) how their sins do mount?
Vengeance is mine: I will (in fine) repay
In my due time: I will not long delay.
Their Ruin posteth: then, th'Omnipotent
Shall Iudge for Iacob: then will I repent
To quite destroy mine owne beloved People,
Seeing their strength all fail'd and wholly feeble.
'Twill then be said, Where are their gods becom
(Their deaf, dull Idols, sent-less, sight-less, dumb)
To whom they lift their hearts, and hands, and eyes,
And (as their Guards) so oft did sacrifice?
Now let those trim Protectors them protect;
Let them rise quickly and defend their Sect,
Their Fires and Altars; and com stand before,
To shield the Fondlings that their Fanes adore.
Know therefore, Mortals, I th'Immortal
am:
There's none like Me, in or aboue this Frame:
I wound, I heal; I kill, I fetch from Graue,
And from my hands none can the Sinner saue.
I'll lift my hand toward th'arched Heav'ns on high,
And swear with-all by mine Eternity
(Which only Beeing, giues to all to Been)
That if I whet my Sword of Vengeance keen:
I force (I say) as soverain King alone,
I sit me down on my high iustice Throne,
I'll venge me roughly on mine Enemies,
And guerdon iustly their iniquities:
My heart-thrill Darts I will make drunk with blood,
I'll glut my sword with slaughter; all the brood
Of rebell Nations I will face (in fine)
To recompense the blood and death of Mine.
O Gentiles, then his People praise and fear,
Sith to the Lord it is so choisely deer:
Sith hee'l avenge his Cause; and, beating down
His enemies, will mildly cheer his Own.
