Fons Lachrymarum or a fountain of tears: From whence doth flow Englands Complaint, Jeremiahs Lamentations paraphras'd with Divine Meditations and an elegy Upon that Son of Valor Sir Charles Lucas. Written by John Quarles |
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| THE LAMENTATIONS OF JEREMIAH. |
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 | Fons Lachrymarum |  |
29
THE LAMENTATIONS OF JEREMIAH.
Chap. I.
Contents.
The miserable estate of Jerusalem by reason of her sins, 12 She complaineth of her grief, 13 and confesseth Gods judgments to be righteous.
How doth the City, that was blest of late
With store of people, now lament her state?
How like a poor distressed widow she
Deplores her sorrows, that was wont to be
Great among Nations? greater far then any;
How tributary is she now to many?
She drowns her blushing cheeks with midnight tear
And from her lovers can obtain no pray'rs:
Her friends arm'd all with treachery, arise
And shew themselves her publick enemies:
Spurr'd with affliction Judah's forc'd to fly,
And throw her self into Captivity;
Because of sense-consuming servitude
She dwells amongst the Heathen multitude:
Her Foes o're-took her when she was distrest;
Well might she wish for, but could take no rest.
Sion is with redoubled grief surpriz'd,
Because her feasts by none are solemniz'd:
Her Gates are fill'd with desolation, and
Her Virgins tortur'd with afflictions hand:
Her Priests with sighs, heart-breaking sighs, express
Their grief: Ah Sion's fill'd with bitterness!
Her chiefest people are her chiefest foes;
Just Heav'n with these innumerable woes
Plagues her transgressions; and the enemy
Drives her dear Children to Captivity.
And that rare beauty, which adorn'd and grac'd
Sions dear daughter, is of late defac'd:
Her Princes sly, and ransack all about,
Like hungry Harts, to find a pasture out:
They all are fled, and flying can procure
No strength t'oppose the merciless pursuer.
But when Jerusalem was thus confin'd
T'afflictions lawless bounds, she call'd to mind
Her by-past pleasures, and those days which she
Had spent in time-devouring Jollitie.
For now her crying sins are grown so great
That Heav'n hath thrown her from his mercies seat:
All those that lov'd her, yea and highly priz'd her,
Seeing her shameful nakedness, despis'd her:
She sighs & turns her back, as though she'd borrow
A private breath t'express a publike sorrow:
For being fill'd with wickedness, Her end
She never thought of; neither had she friend
To comfort her: Oh Lord my God, behold
My great afflictions: Ah my foe grows bold,
And magnifies himself: His streach'd-out hand
Hath spoild the pleasures of my fruitful Land:
The very Heathen, whom thou didst deny
Thy Congregation, do contemn, defie
Thy just commands; and with unseemly paces
Inforce an entrance to thy holy places.
Her bread-desiring people, fill'd with grief,
Give their chief treasures for a small relief:
Behold, O Lord, consider my distress,
For I am vile, and fill'd with wickedness.
With store of people, now lament her state?
How like a poor distressed widow she
Deplores her sorrows, that was wont to be
Great among Nations? greater far then any;
How tributary is she now to many?
30
And from her lovers can obtain no pray'rs:
Her friends arm'd all with treachery, arise
And shew themselves her publick enemies:
Spurr'd with affliction Judah's forc'd to fly,
And throw her self into Captivity;
Because of sense-consuming servitude
She dwells amongst the Heathen multitude:
Her Foes o're-took her when she was distrest;
Well might she wish for, but could take no rest.
Sion is with redoubled grief surpriz'd,
Because her feasts by none are solemniz'd:
Her Gates are fill'd with desolation, and
Her Virgins tortur'd with afflictions hand:
Her Priests with sighs, heart-breaking sighs, express
Their grief: Ah Sion's fill'd with bitterness!
Her chiefest people are her chiefest foes;
Just Heav'n with these innumerable woes
Plagues her transgressions; and the enemy
Drives her dear Children to Captivity.
And that rare beauty, which adorn'd and grac'd
Sions dear daughter, is of late defac'd:
Her Princes sly, and ransack all about,
Like hungry Harts, to find a pasture out:
They all are fled, and flying can procure
No strength t'oppose the merciless pursuer.
But when Jerusalem was thus confin'd
T'afflictions lawless bounds, she call'd to mind
Her by-past pleasures, and those days which she
Had spent in time-devouring Jollitie.
31
That Heav'n hath thrown her from his mercies seat:
All those that lov'd her, yea and highly priz'd her,
Seeing her shameful nakedness, despis'd her:
She sighs & turns her back, as though she'd borrow
A private breath t'express a publike sorrow:
For being fill'd with wickedness, Her end
She never thought of; neither had she friend
To comfort her: Oh Lord my God, behold
My great afflictions: Ah my foe grows bold,
And magnifies himself: His streach'd-out hand
Hath spoild the pleasures of my fruitful Land:
The very Heathen, whom thou didst deny
Thy Congregation, do contemn, defie
Thy just commands; and with unseemly paces
Inforce an entrance to thy holy places.
Her bread-desiring people, fill'd with grief,
Give their chief treasures for a small relief:
Behold, O Lord, consider my distress,
For I am vile, and fill'd with wickedness.
Oh stop your hasty feet, ye that pass by,
And look upon my new-bred misery;
Sum up the totals of all grief, then borrow
A million more; 'Tis nothing to that sorrow
Which I support, wherewith the angry power
Hath pleas'd t'afflict me in His wrathful hour:
For he, from his all-ruling throne hath sent
Into my bones a fiery Government:
Yea, and his ever-active hand hath set,
T'insnare my feet, a Heav'n-contrived net:
And I am desolate, and fainting lie;
Being turn'd from him, am turn'd to misery.
Fast to my servile neck He hath bound on
The wreathed yoke of my transgression;
Impair'd my strength, and by His just command
I'm thrown into my persecutors hands,
Where I, remorsless I, must still remain,
Voyd of all hope to be inlarg'd again.
His unresisted strength hath broke the bones,
And made a footstool of my Mighty Ones:
A great Assembly He hath call'd that may
Punish my young men that will not obey;
And Judahs fairest Virgin Daughter's trod
As in a winepress by th'Almighty God.
And oh these sorrows, oh these miseries
Stir up a tempest in my clouded eyes!
Mine eyes, mine eyes, run o're, I dayly spend
More tears then any brain can apprehend:
My foes prevail, my children all are led
Into Captivity, my hopes are fled.
Sion spreads forth her feeble arms t'express
She seeks for comfort, but is comfortless.
The Lord of hostes commands that Jacobs eyes
Shall round about him see his enemies;
And poor despis'd, distrest Jerusalem
Is as a menstruous woman amongst them.
And look upon my new-bred misery;
Sum up the totals of all grief, then borrow
A million more; 'Tis nothing to that sorrow
Which I support, wherewith the angry power
Hath pleas'd t'afflict me in His wrathful hour:
For he, from his all-ruling throne hath sent
Into my bones a fiery Government:
Yea, and his ever-active hand hath set,
T'insnare my feet, a Heav'n-contrived net:
32
Being turn'd from him, am turn'd to misery.
Fast to my servile neck He hath bound on
The wreathed yoke of my transgression;
Impair'd my strength, and by His just command
I'm thrown into my persecutors hands,
Where I, remorsless I, must still remain,
Voyd of all hope to be inlarg'd again.
His unresisted strength hath broke the bones,
And made a footstool of my Mighty Ones:
A great Assembly He hath call'd that may
Punish my young men that will not obey;
And Judahs fairest Virgin Daughter's trod
As in a winepress by th'Almighty God.
And oh these sorrows, oh these miseries
Stir up a tempest in my clouded eyes!
Mine eyes, mine eyes, run o're, I dayly spend
More tears then any brain can apprehend:
My foes prevail, my children all are led
Into Captivity, my hopes are fled.
Sion spreads forth her feeble arms t'express
She seeks for comfort, but is comfortless.
The Lord of hostes commands that Jacobs eyes
Shall round about him see his enemies;
And poor despis'd, distrest Jerusalem
Is as a menstruous woman amongst them.
My God is just, yet I, rebellious I,
Transgrest against his glorious Majesty:
Oh hear my people, let your ears but borrow
A minutes time, from Time, to hear my sorrow!
My Virgins and my young men all are fled
Into Captivity; my Priests are dead:
My Friends refuse to hear me when I call;
For want of food my hungry Elders fall.
O Lord, behold, see how I am opprest,
My heart thumps at the portals of my brest:
Oh, I have sinned, and my sins indite me;
Abroad the Sword, at home grim Death affrights me.
My friends have heard my groaning, and my grief
Is known to them, But I know no relief:
My foes with clamorous voyces fill the earth,
And make my grief the subject of their mirth:
But Heav'n hath nam'd a day when these my foes
Shall be Co-partners in my mock'd at woes.
O God, let not their faults be hid from thee,
But deal with them as thou hast dealt with me:
My heart is faint, my strugling sighs are many,
My griefs too great to be exprest by any.
Transgrest against his glorious Majesty:
Oh hear my people, let your ears but borrow
A minutes time, from Time, to hear my sorrow!
33
Into Captivity; my Priests are dead:
My Friends refuse to hear me when I call;
For want of food my hungry Elders fall.
O Lord, behold, see how I am opprest,
My heart thumps at the portals of my brest:
Oh, I have sinned, and my sins indite me;
Abroad the Sword, at home grim Death affrights me.
My friends have heard my groaning, and my grief
Is known to them, But I know no relief:
My foes with clamorous voyces fill the earth,
And make my grief the subject of their mirth:
But Heav'n hath nam'd a day when these my foes
Shall be Co-partners in my mock'd at woes.
O God, let not their faults be hid from thee,
But deal with them as thou hast dealt with me:
My heart is faint, my strugling sighs are many,
My griefs too great to be exprest by any.
Meditatio in Capitulum.
If thou wouldst know, my Soul, what harms attendA sinners progress to his journeys end:
Here, here, thou mayst, if with impartial eyes
Thou wilt observe th'unsatiate miseries
Of poor Jerusalem, whose tedious groans,
Whose sighs, and sobs, & tears, the world bemoans.
34
Sin was the Author of her self-will'd Wo.
'Twas sweet first, but sowre in th'event,
That little word assumes a large extent:
Where Sin predominates, there we may find
The inconvenience of a troubl'd mind:
For when the mind's perplex'd, then we begin
Either to fall to, or to fall from Sin:
For like the restless sea she's active still,
And always agitating good or ill;
If well imploy'd, she builds a wall about
The Soul, to keep approaching dangers out:
But if she spends her thriftless hours in Evil,
She makes a banquet to invite the Devil,
Who with his subtle and misguiding force
Will re-invite her to a second course.
And then let Christians judg how much disquiet
That Soul sustains that loves the Devils diet.
Ah then my Soul, if thou desir'st to be
Exempted from the lot of miserie,
Make Heav'n thy refuge; there thou mayst be sure
To find contentment and repose secure:
Thou needst not fear, there is no poys'nous thing
Can wound that Soul that truly loves his King:
Nor all the malice mortals can invent,
Shall add to thee one mite of discontent:
There is no sorrow, no calamity
T'oppress thy thoughts; No wry-look'd enemy
T'upbraid thy actions: then my Soul advise
How much it profits to be heav'nly wise.
Exempted from the lot of miserie,
Make Heav'n thy refuge; there thou mayst be sure
To find contentment and repose secure:
Thou needst not fear, there is no poys'nous thing
Can wound that Soul that truly loves his King:
Nor all the malice mortals can invent,
Shall add to thee one mite of discontent:
There is no sorrow, no calamity
T'oppress thy thoughts; No wry-look'd enemy
T'upbraid thy actions: then my Soul advise
How much it profits to be heav'nly wise.
35
Ah had Jerusalem, whose grief no pen
Can e're engrave into the hearts of men,
Been wisely wary, she had never known
Those late reap'd sorrows, which her sins had sown:
Had she but search'd her bosom, and contriv'd
Her actions well, her glory had surviv'd:
Had she with Davids tears in time repented,
Those uncorrected sins her heart lamented,
She had not felt those judgments which did wait
Upon the ruines of her falling State:
But whilest her eyes were muffl'd and deluded,
Folly came in where Reason was excluded.
Needs must that Kingdom unto ruine run,
Where Folly sets and rises with the Sun.
Like as the body that's oppress'd with grief
Can neither hope for, nor obtain relief,
Till the disease be known, there's none can tell
The rage of sickness that was always well:
Even so Jerusalem, because that she
Judg'd not the Reason of her Miserie
Till she was past recovery, could never
Have health restor'd her, but was sick for ever.
Alas! alas! that Kingdom needs must fall,
That has a grief so Epidemical.
Had she but like the Ninevites in time
Stop'd those distemp'ring humors, wch did climbe
Above her strength, her grief had quickly ended,
And heav'n revok'd those judgments he intended.
Med'cines are vain things when apply'd too late,
And through delay a grief grows desperate:
He that is Sin-sick is in bad condition,
Except Heav'n please to be his Souls Physitian:
And if God once deny his Patient bliss,
Whose must the fault be, when the fault's not his?
Can e're engrave into the hearts of men,
Been wisely wary, she had never known
Those late reap'd sorrows, which her sins had sown:
Had she but search'd her bosom, and contriv'd
Her actions well, her glory had surviv'd:
Had she with Davids tears in time repented,
Those uncorrected sins her heart lamented,
She had not felt those judgments which did wait
Upon the ruines of her falling State:
But whilest her eyes were muffl'd and deluded,
Folly came in where Reason was excluded.
Needs must that Kingdom unto ruine run,
Where Folly sets and rises with the Sun.
Like as the body that's oppress'd with grief
Can neither hope for, nor obtain relief,
Till the disease be known, there's none can tell
The rage of sickness that was always well:
Even so Jerusalem, because that she
Judg'd not the Reason of her Miserie
Till she was past recovery, could never
Have health restor'd her, but was sick for ever.
Alas! alas! that Kingdom needs must fall,
That has a grief so Epidemical.
Had she but like the Ninevites in time
Stop'd those distemp'ring humors, wch did climbe
Above her strength, her grief had quickly ended,
And heav'n revok'd those judgments he intended.
Med'cines are vain things when apply'd too late,
And through delay a grief grows desperate:
36
Except Heav'n please to be his Souls Physitian:
And if God once deny his Patient bliss,
Whose must the fault be, when the fault's not his?
Alas! alas! 'tis but in vain for any
To strive to cure one grief, that had so many
As sad Jerusalem had; her plagues were more
Then all the world could reckon up before:
She had a Monop'ly, she need not borrow,
She was the Hierogliphick of all sorrow.
Yet if in time she'd made repentant moan,
Heav'n could have cur'd them all as well as one.
There is no Sin, let it be great or small,
But Heav'n can find a balsam for them all.
My Soul, thou art my Monarch, therefore I
May boldly look into thy Monarchy:
First, praise thou Heav'n, then learn to be content
With what he sends thee; let thy government
Be still Monarchical, and fenc'd about
With fervent prayers, to keep Sedition out.
Let watch and ward be kept, lest Traytor Sin
Betray thee; Let not Faction come within
Thy lists: And still be careful to surprize
Rebellious thoughts as soon as they arise:
For if they once appear within thy borders,
They'l breed confusion, and confus'd disorders.
Learn to be wisely politick, and be
Ready to let Religion counsel thee.
Let Reason be thy guide, and let thy Laws
Be truly executed; Let thy Cause
Be just and real: then my Soul, be sure
To let thy fundamental Laws endure,
Till he that sits on the refulgent Throne
Shall take thee hence, and keep thee for his own.
To strive to cure one grief, that had so many
As sad Jerusalem had; her plagues were more
Then all the world could reckon up before:
She had a Monop'ly, she need not borrow,
She was the Hierogliphick of all sorrow.
Yet if in time she'd made repentant moan,
Heav'n could have cur'd them all as well as one.
There is no Sin, let it be great or small,
But Heav'n can find a balsam for them all.
My Soul, thou art my Monarch, therefore I
May boldly look into thy Monarchy:
First, praise thou Heav'n, then learn to be content
With what he sends thee; let thy government
Be still Monarchical, and fenc'd about
With fervent prayers, to keep Sedition out.
Let watch and ward be kept, lest Traytor Sin
Betray thee; Let not Faction come within
Thy lists: And still be careful to surprize
Rebellious thoughts as soon as they arise:
For if they once appear within thy borders,
They'l breed confusion, and confus'd disorders.
Learn to be wisely politick, and be
Ready to let Religion counsel thee.
Let Reason be thy guide, and let thy Laws
Be truly executed; Let thy Cause
37
To let thy fundamental Laws endure,
Till he that sits on the refulgent Throne
Shall take thee hence, and keep thee for his own.
Chap. II.
Contents.
1 Jeremiah lamenteth, the misery of Jerusalem. 20 He complaineth thereof to God.
Behold!
Heav'ns Metropolitan hath spread
His gloomy clouds of anger on the head
Of sad Jerusalem: He hath destroy'd
Those bounteous treasures Israel injoy'd;
And from his mem'ry hath his footstool thrown,
VVhen he with floods of anger was o'reflown.
And Jacobs habitations he unfram'd,
And wrathfully consum'd them: Thus inflam'd
The strongest castles Judahs Daughter had,
He tumbled down, and made her people sad:
And he, to shew what his grand power could do,
Defil'd the Kingdom and the Princes too.
His two-edged passion hath cut off the horn
And Chief of Israel, made him a scorn
To his deriding Foes, and also stayd,
Yea and withdrawn his right hand from his ayd.
His fury like an all-consuming flame
Burn'd against Jacob, and devour'd his name.
His wrestless arm hath bent his yeelding bow;
He stood resolved like a dauntless foe:
And in the Tabernacle he hath slew
The eyes delight, like fire his anger flew.
He threw down Israels strongest situations,
And fill'd Jerusalem with lamentations.
And like a fruitless garden hath layd voyd
Th'infected Tabernacle, and destroy'd
Th'assemblies structures; and an angry wind
Hath blown their Feasts and Sabbaths from his mind;
Both Kings & Priests in anger he forgot,
And look'd on them as if he saw them not.
His holy places, and his Altar he
Abhor'd: and gave unto the Enemie
Her fairest palaces: their ill-tun'd voyces,
As on a feast day, fill'd the Church with noises.
His hand stretch'd forth a line, when he intended
To ruine Sion that so much offended:
He hath resolv'd destruction; therefore all
The rampart languish'd with the gliding wall.
He hath destroy'd, and batter'd down her grates
The gaping Earth imbowell'd all her Gates:
Her King and Princes dwell with Gentiles; and
Her Laws are banish'd from her lawless Land:
Her Prophets gaze about; the frowning skies
Do represent no vision to their eyes.
Her mournful Elders on the ground repose,
And silently consent unto their woes:
They cloth'd themselves with sackcloth, and they crown'd
Their heads with dust, they borrowed from the ground:
No joys were pleasing to the eys of them
That were the Virgins of Jerusalem.
My bowels yern, my tear-distilling eyes
Are sore with gazing on the miseries
Of frail Jerusalem: Alas the feet
Of her dear sucklings stagger in the street!
And like the wounded in the City send
Their sighs for food, unto their dearest friend:
And whilst they slumbred on their mothers brest,
They pour'd their souls into eternal rest.
What shall I witness for thee, Oh thou gem,
Thou pining Daughter of Jerusalem?
To what shall I compare thee? What can be
Oh Sions Daughter, equal unto thee?
Let all the world recure thee, if they can:
For Ah, thy breach is like the Ocean!
Alas, thy purblind Prophets all have been
Hoodwink'd with folly, & vain things have seen:
But ne'er discover'd thine iniquity,
Which was the cause of thy captivity.
Their mis-informed senses were content
To see false Reasons for thy Banishment.
All that past by, and saw thee thus decaying,
Clapt their rude hands, yea hist at thee, thus saying;
Is this the City that the worldlings call
Beauties perfection? This the joy of all?
Thy foes revile thee, and as they pass by
They gnash their teeth against thee; thus they cry
This is the day we look'd for, now we know
She is destroy'd, we see her overthrow.
That which the King of Heav'n devised, now
He hath enacted and fulfill'd his vow:
He hath thrown down without remorse, O see,
Thy adversaries triumph over thee.
This hath th'Almighty done for them, at length
He made thē strong, yea & advanc'd their strength
They mov'd the Lord with their uncessant cries;
O wall of Sions daughter, let thine eyes
Run down like rivers, give thy self no sleep;
Forget to smile, and practice how to weep.
Arise, and in the silent night bemoan
Thy grief; O cry unto th'Almighty one:
In the beginning of the watch implore
Thy growing sorrows; make a flood before
Th'Eternals face: O crave that he would please
To send thy young, faint, hungry children ease.
His gloomy clouds of anger on the head
Of sad Jerusalem: He hath destroy'd
Those bounteous treasures Israel injoy'd;
And from his mem'ry hath his footstool thrown,
VVhen he with floods of anger was o'reflown.
And Jacobs habitations he unfram'd,
And wrathfully consum'd them: Thus inflam'd
The strongest castles Judahs Daughter had,
He tumbled down, and made her people sad:
And he, to shew what his grand power could do,
Defil'd the Kingdom and the Princes too.
His two-edged passion hath cut off the horn
And Chief of Israel, made him a scorn
38
Yea and withdrawn his right hand from his ayd.
His fury like an all-consuming flame
Burn'd against Jacob, and devour'd his name.
His wrestless arm hath bent his yeelding bow;
He stood resolved like a dauntless foe:
And in the Tabernacle he hath slew
The eyes delight, like fire his anger flew.
He threw down Israels strongest situations,
And fill'd Jerusalem with lamentations.
And like a fruitless garden hath layd voyd
Th'infected Tabernacle, and destroy'd
Th'assemblies structures; and an angry wind
Hath blown their Feasts and Sabbaths from his mind;
Both Kings & Priests in anger he forgot,
And look'd on them as if he saw them not.
His holy places, and his Altar he
Abhor'd: and gave unto the Enemie
Her fairest palaces: their ill-tun'd voyces,
As on a feast day, fill'd the Church with noises.
His hand stretch'd forth a line, when he intended
To ruine Sion that so much offended:
He hath resolv'd destruction; therefore all
The rampart languish'd with the gliding wall.
He hath destroy'd, and batter'd down her grates
The gaping Earth imbowell'd all her Gates:
Her King and Princes dwell with Gentiles; and
Her Laws are banish'd from her lawless Land:
Her Prophets gaze about; the frowning skies
Do represent no vision to their eyes.
39
And silently consent unto their woes:
They cloth'd themselves with sackcloth, and they crown'd
Their heads with dust, they borrowed from the ground:
No joys were pleasing to the eys of them
That were the Virgins of Jerusalem.
My bowels yern, my tear-distilling eyes
Are sore with gazing on the miseries
Of frail Jerusalem: Alas the feet
Of her dear sucklings stagger in the street!
And like the wounded in the City send
Their sighs for food, unto their dearest friend:
And whilst they slumbred on their mothers brest,
They pour'd their souls into eternal rest.
What shall I witness for thee, Oh thou gem,
Thou pining Daughter of Jerusalem?
To what shall I compare thee? What can be
Oh Sions Daughter, equal unto thee?
Let all the world recure thee, if they can:
For Ah, thy breach is like the Ocean!
Alas, thy purblind Prophets all have been
Hoodwink'd with folly, & vain things have seen:
But ne'er discover'd thine iniquity,
Which was the cause of thy captivity.
Their mis-informed senses were content
To see false Reasons for thy Banishment.
All that past by, and saw thee thus decaying,
Clapt their rude hands, yea hist at thee, thus saying;
Is this the City that the worldlings call
Beauties perfection? This the joy of all?
40
They gnash their teeth against thee; thus they cry
This is the day we look'd for, now we know
She is destroy'd, we see her overthrow.
That which the King of Heav'n devised, now
He hath enacted and fulfill'd his vow:
He hath thrown down without remorse, O see,
Thy adversaries triumph over thee.
This hath th'Almighty done for them, at length
He made thē strong, yea & advanc'd their strength
They mov'd the Lord with their uncessant cries;
O wall of Sions daughter, let thine eyes
Run down like rivers, give thy self no sleep;
Forget to smile, and practice how to weep.
Arise, and in the silent night bemoan
Thy grief; O cry unto th'Almighty one:
In the beginning of the watch implore
Thy growing sorrows; make a flood before
Th'Eternals face: O crave that he would please
To send thy young, faint, hungry children ease.
Consider Lord to whom thou'st done this great,
This unrepented ill: Shall women eat
Their span-long Children? Shall thy slain Priests lie
Tomb'd with thy Prophet in thy Sanct'ary?
The young and old have shar'd in equal harms,
They lie and tumble in each others arms:
Upon the flinty streets my virgins fall,
With my young men; the sword disliv'd them all:
Thus in thine anger hast thou struck them dead,
Thus hast thou kill'd, and never pittied.
As in a solemn day my terrors round
About thou'st called, so that none was found
In the Lords day of anger to remain:
Those that I swadled and brought up, in vain
I brought them up; the enemy infum'd
Envy'd this off-spring, and their days consum'd.
This unrepented ill: Shall women eat
Their span-long Children? Shall thy slain Priests lie
Tomb'd with thy Prophet in thy Sanct'ary?
The young and old have shar'd in equal harms,
They lie and tumble in each others arms:
Upon the flinty streets my virgins fall,
With my young men; the sword disliv'd them all:
Thus in thine anger hast thou struck them dead,
Thus hast thou kill'd, and never pittied.
41
About thou'st called, so that none was found
In the Lords day of anger to remain:
Those that I swadled and brought up, in vain
I brought them up; the enemy infum'd
Envy'd this off-spring, and their days consum'd.
Meditatio in Capitulum.
See , see, my Soul, what Heav'n hath done! O seeWhat 'tis t'offend a pow'rful Majestie!
Go, go, and quickly tell the sons of men
What 'tis to rouze a Lion from his Den:
Bid them keep peace and quietness in Sion;
Bid them turn Lambs, or Heav'n will turn a Lion.
Bid them take notice, she that was the stem
Of honor, now is poor Jerusalem.
Alas! Alas! experience made her know
Griefs abstract, and the quintescence of wo.
And ah my Soul! who knows the course of sorrow?
There 'tis to day, it may be here to morrow.
Then have a care, let thy well tutor'd grief
Know rather how to purchase a relief,
Than plagues and torments; Let thy sober will
Be sway'd by reason: let thy reason still
Lead thee to meditation: then begin
To search thy self, and cypher up thy sin.
42
Thy grief, and where th'imperious humors lie
And having found them out, let no delay
Damage thy Soul, but quickly haste away;
And from the bottom of thy heart confess
Thy greatest sins; so Heav'n may make them less.
O kiss the Son; for if his anger be,
Yea but a little kindled; blest is he
Whose groping Soul his seal'd up mercies found,
And cast his anchor in so firm a ground.
Heav'n smiles on them whose oft-repeated pray'r
Expands their sins, & makes their God their care
But when revolting negligence shall call
Confounding ruine from th'imperial hall
Of Heav'ns high-seated Palace, and invite
A dreadful vengeance, to eclipse the light
Of a resplendent happiness; and double
The lab'ring Soul with interposing trouble:
Ah, then our pleasures shall be turn'd to toys,
And sudden grief shall expiate our joys!
And like Jerusalem, confus'd shall we
Wander and languish in obscuritie:
Then, then, our down-cast spirits shall lament,
And moan their just-deserved punishment:
Then shall our Peace be drawn unto an end,
Then shall we look for, but shall find no friend
Then shall our sad Embassadors prepare,
And mount to Heav'n, but find no audience there.
Then shall our blubber'd eyes in vain let slide
Innumerable tears: then shall the Tide
43
And dash against our sin-polluted shore:
Then shall we run, and in our running meet
Th'obvious sword in the blood-streaming street:
Then shall our hasty trembling feet retire
To our sad houses; there shall Death require
Th'arrears of sorrow: Lingring Famine shall
Like to a lean-cheek'd fury grasp us all:
And from our strouting veins shal squeez a flood,
A luke-warm deluge of diffused blood.
Then shall our children with their midnight cries
Lament for food; Then shall their mothers eyes
Bedew their bosoms with the falling showres
Of dribling tears: Then shall their loathed hours
Haste to an end; And having thus exprest
Their woes, shall creep into Eternal rest.
Then shall the early melancholly Bells
Sound mournful peals for their sad last farewels.
Ah now my Soul! Can any griefs out-vie
Such griefs as these? Can any heart deny
The justness of these Judgments? If they do,
May they feel Sodoms and Gomorrahs too.
Heav'n cannot be unjust; No, no, 'tis we
Provoking sinners are unjust, not he.
Shall we offend, and shall we every day
Hale down his judgments on our backs, then lay
The burthen of our faults on him, and cry,
Like Traytor Judas, Master is it I?
No, no, we must not; but let every one
Unbosom all his actions, and make known
44
Plead himself guiltless, he's a happy man.
Find out but ten good men, and for their sake
Heav'n will deduct a thousand plagues, and shake
Ten thousand more from his incensed brest,
And for their sakes will give ten thousand rest.
Sodom can witness Heav'n brookes no denyal,
He had sav'd all, had ten been found but loyal.
Oh blind and foolish is that City, when
Ten thousand doubled cannot number ten.
Chap. III.
Contents.
1 The faithful bewail their calamities: 22 by the mercies of God they nourish their hopes 37 They acknowledg Gods justice. 55 They pray for deliverance, 64 and vengeance {on} their enemies.
'Tis I have seen affliction by the rod,
Th'impetuous anger of the wrathful God.
He with a pitchy darkness mask'd my sight,
And hath not cloth'd me with the robes of light.
He turn'd his hand against me all the day,
He broke my bones, and made my flesh decay.
His lab'ring fury hath built up a wall
Against me, and surrounded me with gall.
In dungeon places he me set, like those
Which in their graves have had a long repose.
And he hath made my toilsom chains to be
Heavy; He hedg'd me from my libertie.
And when I shout and cry, he will not hear,
But makes my pray'r a stranger to his ear.
He hath inclosed me with stones that stay
My hasty steps, he hath incurv'd my way.
And as a lurking Bear, observes my paces,
Or as a Lion in the secret places.
He turn'd me from my ways, disturb'd my state,
Pull'd me in pieces, made me desolate.
He bent his Bow, and made my trembling heart
The aim'd-at object of his fatal dart.
He caus'd his quivered guests t'inforce my veins,
And take a large possession in my reins.
{He} was my people's laughing stock, their song
Was tuned to my mischief all day long.
He fill'd me full of bitterness and woe,
And made me drunk with nauseous wormwood too.
He brake my teeth with gravel stones, and he
With heaps of ashes hath involved me.
Banish'd my Soul from Peace, prosperity
Is quite relapsed from my memory.
I said my strength, my very hope is even
Wasted and perish'd from the Lord of Heav'n.
Ponder my woes and my afflictions all,
Remember both the honey and the gall
These things do still in my remembrance rest,
And ah, my Soul is humbled in my brest!
This I recal to my swift-roving mind,
Therefore I hope, and hoping, hope to find.
Th'impetuous anger of the wrathful God.
He with a pitchy darkness mask'd my sight,
And hath not cloth'd me with the robes of light.
He turn'd his hand against me all the day,
He broke my bones, and made my flesh decay.
45
Against me, and surrounded me with gall.
In dungeon places he me set, like those
Which in their graves have had a long repose.
And he hath made my toilsom chains to be
Heavy; He hedg'd me from my libertie.
And when I shout and cry, he will not hear,
But makes my pray'r a stranger to his ear.
He hath inclosed me with stones that stay
My hasty steps, he hath incurv'd my way.
And as a lurking Bear, observes my paces,
Or as a Lion in the secret places.
He turn'd me from my ways, disturb'd my state,
Pull'd me in pieces, made me desolate.
He bent his Bow, and made my trembling heart
The aim'd-at object of his fatal dart.
He caus'd his quivered guests t'inforce my veins,
And take a large possession in my reins.
{He} was my people's laughing stock, their song
Was tuned to my mischief all day long.
He fill'd me full of bitterness and woe,
And made me drunk with nauseous wormwood too.
He brake my teeth with gravel stones, and he
With heaps of ashes hath involved me.
Banish'd my Soul from Peace, prosperity
Is quite relapsed from my memory.
I said my strength, my very hope is even
Wasted and perish'd from the Lord of Heav'n.
Ponder my woes and my afflictions all,
Remember both the honey and the gall
46
And ah, my Soul is humbled in my brest!
This I recal to my swift-roving mind,
Therefore I hope, and hoping, hope to find.
It is the mercy of the Lord we sail
So safe; for his compassions never fail.
They're every morning new, thy faithfulness
Is great, and greater then I can express.
The Lord's my portion, saith my Soul; and I
Will therefore hope unto Eternity.
And that just Soul, which dayly shall attend
Upon the Lord, shall never want a friend.
'Tis good that man should hope and wait upon
Th'Almighties pleasure and salvation.
'Tis good for man to exercise the truth,
And bear the yoke of his offending youth:
He sits alone, and silently makes known,
He bears no other burthen than his own.
His humbled mouth salutes the dusty ground,
As if some hopes of mercy may be found.
He's fill'd with shame, he willingly invites
T'a second stroke the hand of him that smites.
For they that strive and really endeavor,
God will not leave, nor cast them off for ever.
He will have pity, though he sends a grief;
In multitudes of mercy lies relief.
He doth not punish, nor augment the smart
Of sinners children with a willing heart.
His feet take no delight to crush to death
Th'offending pris'ners of th'inferior earth.
To turn away mans right, (his heart abhors)
Before the face of their superiors.
And to subvert a man in his just cause,
The Lord approveth not, 'tis not his Laws.
So safe; for his compassions never fail.
They're every morning new, thy faithfulness
Is great, and greater then I can express.
The Lord's my portion, saith my Soul; and I
Will therefore hope unto Eternity.
And that just Soul, which dayly shall attend
Upon the Lord, shall never want a friend.
'Tis good that man should hope and wait upon
Th'Almighties pleasure and salvation.
'Tis good for man to exercise the truth,
And bear the yoke of his offending youth:
He sits alone, and silently makes known,
He bears no other burthen than his own.
His humbled mouth salutes the dusty ground,
As if some hopes of mercy may be found.
He's fill'd with shame, he willingly invites
T'a second stroke the hand of him that smites.
For they that strive and really endeavor,
God will not leave, nor cast them off for ever.
He will have pity, though he sends a grief;
In multitudes of mercy lies relief.
He doth not punish, nor augment the smart
Of sinners children with a willing heart.
His feet take no delight to crush to death
Th'offending pris'ners of th'inferior earth.
47
Before the face of their superiors.
And to subvert a man in his just cause,
The Lord approveth not, 'tis not his Laws.
And who is he whose spend-thrift tongue dare say,
This thing shall come to pass, when Heav'n says nay?
Out of the mouth of him that's God indeed
There doth not evil, but known good proceed.
Why doth a living man with grumbling thoughts
Complain as one that's punish'd for his faults?
Let's search, let's try our ways, let's turn again
To God, and he will turn away our pain.
And let our hands b'extended with our souls
To Heav'ns Star-chamber, where our God controuls.
We have rebelliously transgrest, and thou,
Thou hast not pard'ned with a cheerful brow.
Thine anger hath o'reshadowed us, thou hast
Slain without pity, we thy anger taste.
Th'ast vail'd thy self with clouds, which will not let
Our pray'rs pass thorough to discharge our debt.
And as th'off-scouring thou O Lord hast made us
Amongst those factious people that betray'd us.
Our greedy enemies have op'ned wide
Their mouths against us, and our pains deride.
Fear, like a snare, incloses us about,
And desolation will not keep without.
Mine eyes run down like hasty floods of water,
For the destruction of my peoples Daughter.
Mine eyes are full, and tears do stream upon
My cheeks without an intermission:
Till Heav'n look'd down on my enriver'd face
And view'd my weeping from his holy place.
Mine eyes affect my pining heart with pity,
Because of all the Daughters of my City.
And causless (like a frighted bird that flies)
I still am chased by my enemies.
They have destroy'd me in the dungeon, nay
They cast a stone upon me where I lay.
Th'imperious waves mounted above my head,
And then I cry'd, Alas, Alas, I'm dead.
This thing shall come to pass, when Heav'n says nay?
Out of the mouth of him that's God indeed
There doth not evil, but known good proceed.
Why doth a living man with grumbling thoughts
Complain as one that's punish'd for his faults?
Let's search, let's try our ways, let's turn again
To God, and he will turn away our pain.
And let our hands b'extended with our souls
To Heav'ns Star-chamber, where our God controuls.
We have rebelliously transgrest, and thou,
Thou hast not pard'ned with a cheerful brow.
Thine anger hath o'reshadowed us, thou hast
Slain without pity, we thy anger taste.
Th'ast vail'd thy self with clouds, which will not let
Our pray'rs pass thorough to discharge our debt.
And as th'off-scouring thou O Lord hast made us
Amongst those factious people that betray'd us.
Our greedy enemies have op'ned wide
Their mouths against us, and our pains deride.
Fear, like a snare, incloses us about,
And desolation will not keep without.
Mine eyes run down like hasty floods of water,
For the destruction of my peoples Daughter.
Mine eyes are full, and tears do stream upon
My cheeks without an intermission:
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And view'd my weeping from his holy place.
Mine eyes affect my pining heart with pity,
Because of all the Daughters of my City.
And causless (like a frighted bird that flies)
I still am chased by my enemies.
They have destroy'd me in the dungeon, nay
They cast a stone upon me where I lay.
Th'imperious waves mounted above my head,
And then I cry'd, Alas, Alas, I'm dead.
I call'd upon thy name (O Lord;) my voyce
Out of the dungeon made a dreadful noise.
Th'ast heard my cries, Oh let thy ears not lie
Hid from the breathing of my doleful cry.
And in that day when I on thee did call,
Thou cam'st, and bid me never fear at all.
And when my soul (O Lord) was fill'd with strife
Thou didst both plead my cause, and save my life.
And thou hast plainly seen my wrong'd estate;
Judg thou my cause, be thou my advocate.
For thou hast seen their vengeance, thou dost see
Their deep imaginations against me.
Thou their reproach hast heard, and apprehended
What against me their busie thoughts intended.
Thou know'st the very lips of them that rose
Against me, and the malice of my foes.
Behold their sitting and their rising, I
Am all their musick, and their melody.
Out of the dungeon made a dreadful noise.
Th'ast heard my cries, Oh let thy ears not lie
Hid from the breathing of my doleful cry.
And in that day when I on thee did call,
Thou cam'st, and bid me never fear at all.
And when my soul (O Lord) was fill'd with strife
Thou didst both plead my cause, and save my life.
And thou hast plainly seen my wrong'd estate;
Judg thou my cause, be thou my advocate.
For thou hast seen their vengeance, thou dost see
Their deep imaginations against me.
Thou their reproach hast heard, and apprehended
What against me their busie thoughts intended.
Thou know'st the very lips of them that rose
Against me, and the malice of my foes.
Behold their sitting and their rising, I
Am all their musick, and their melody.
Render to them a recompence, O God,
And let them feel thy handy-work, thy rod.
Oh give them grief of heart; Oh let them burst
With dregs of sorrow, let them be accurst.
And let thy angry persecuting hand
Destroy, confound, and sweep them from the land.
And let them feel thy handy-work, thy rod.
49
With dregs of sorrow, let them be accurst.
And let thy angry persecuting hand
Destroy, confound, and sweep them from the land.
Meditatio in Capitulum.
Come , come, my Soul, do not obnubilateThy self with smoaky pleasures, nor create
More vain delights to please thy toyish mind:
Be serious now; let pleasures be confin'd.
Th'Almighty's angry, and his angry Breath
Expresses nothing but resolved Death.
His wrath is kindled, and his furious hand
Threatens a ruine to a sinful Land.
His bow is bent; behold he stands prepar'd,
'Tis he, 'tis he, that will not be out-dar'd:
And should his roving messenger impart
A secret sorrow to thy private heart;
What then? Can all the balsams may be found
Recure so great, so terrible a wound?
No, no: Oh then let thy discerning eye
Be truly watchful; for discovery
Oft-times prevents a mischief: he's a stranger
To Heav'ns high Court, that thinks t'out-brave a danger
Behold (my soul) thou art inviron'd round
With troops of adversaries; heark, they sound
50
And make thy sorrows but their laughing stock
Dost thou not hear them, how they shout and cry
As though they'd cleave th'unseparable sky?
Oh be not deaf: rouze up thy self, advance
Thy backward thoughts, sleep not in ignorance
Provoke not Heav'n too much: Oh do not still
Urge more and more his most unwilling will.
Observe but how unpleasantly his arm
Draws up his bow, as one that's loath to harm.
Me thinks I hear him say, Oh can ye tell!
Why will ye dye, ye house of Israel?
Me thinks I hear his never-ending breath
Breathe a disdain against a sinners death.
Me thinks I hear his grieved spirit say,
Ye that are weary, come, oh come away,
And lay your burthens on my back, and I
Will hear them all; I'le bear them willingly.
Why will ye dye? why will ye shut your eyes,
And thus run head-long after vanities?
Open your Adder ears, come and rejoyce
With me and mine; let my harmonious voyce
Invite you: Ah, what pleasures can accrew,
From shadows, to such substances as you?
Cast off the works of darkness; let true light
Expel those mists: Oh come when I invite.
What do ye mean? Oh, tell me, tell me why
Ye love to tumble in impurity?
Ah now my Soul! let admiration prove
That Heav'n's compos'd of nothing but of Love;
51
(Rather then Mercy) claim a thousand darts.
Call home thy wandring thoughts, & let them all
(Like servants) be obedient to thy Call.
Examine them; the very best will show,
Thy best deserts are but an overthrow.
Review thy actions; see if they can yeeld
One grain of comfort: see if they can shield
Thy threatned state: The more men strive to smother
Their sins, the more one sin begets another.
Then fly, dull soul, to Heav'ns high Court, & there
Melt, melt, into an everlasting tear.
Attone thy God, let not thy tongue deny
The truth to him, when he shall ask thee, why,
Why hast thou done this wickedness! Confess,
'Tis thou hast sin'd, 'tis he that must depress
That head-increasing Hydra: Then shalt thou
Behold with what a voluntary brow
He'l entertain thee, and those joys impart
To thee, which wait upon a contrite heart.
He will have pity, though he sends a grief:
In multitudes of mercy lies relief.
The God of Love did never take delight
To mantle sinners with the clouds of night.
He's an indulgent Father, and his care
Is infinite, as all his mercies are.
Compose thy numerous thoughts, my Soul, and run:
Oh tell that Father, thou wilt be his Son.
52
Chap. IV.
Contents.
1 Sion bewaileth her pitiful estate: 13 She confesseth her sins. 21 Edom is threatned. 22 Sion is comforted.
The purest changed, that was wont to shine!
The stones that pav'd the Sanct'ary are thrown
Into the streets, for beasts to trample on.
The sons of Sion, which I could compare
To finest gold, behold, see now they are
Esteem'd as earthen pitchers, which the hands
Of the industrious Potter still commands.
The ill-shap'd monsters, which the Ocean owns
As proper guests, nourish their little ones:
But ah, my Daughters are grown pitiless,
Like Ostriches within the wilderness.
The wordless tongues of thirfty children cleave
To their unliquid mouths; they never leave
Their integrating cries: Poor hearts in vain
They cry for food, but can no food obtain.
And they that fed upon delicious sweets,
Are desolate in the unquiet streets:
53
Embrace a dunghil as their happiness.
For ah, my peoples Daughter suffers more
For her great sins, then Sodom did before.
Her beautified Nazarites could show
A purer white than milk, whiter then snow;
Their bodies than the rubies were more red,
With shining Saphire were they polished.
But now their changed visages excel
The coal in blackness; they that knew them well,
Now know them not: their flesh adheres & sticks
Unto their bones, they are like with'red sticks.
Those that are ravisht of their fading breath
By the encountring sword, enjoy a death
Transcending theirs, whose lingring souls are pinde
For want of food: Ah famine's never kinde!
The woful women boyl their young, they have
Turn'd their own fruitful bellies to a grave.
The Lord hath now accomplished his ire,
Pour'd out his streaming anger, caus'd a fire
To flame in Sion, which devour'd and layd
Those buildings waste, which their own hands had made.
The wisest Kings, nor the worlds copious nations
Did ever think to see these great invasions
Of th'unbridled foe, whose head-long courses
Divides her gates with their divided forces.
The Priests & Prophets crimeless blood have shed;
Their sins drew down this mischief on their head.
Like those they wander, whose benighted eyes
Attract no light from the all-lighting skies:
54
Can touch their clothes; they are with blood o're flown.
The people cried, depart, what do ye mean?
Depart, depart, touch not, it is unclean:
The Heathen, as they fled together, cry'd,
With us they shall not sojourn, nor abide.
Gods anger hath divided them; he never
Will love them more, but cast them off for ever:
They disrespected Priests, and they forgot
The gravest Elders, whom they pitied not.
But as for us, our help-beguiled eyes
Fail'd us as yet, no comfort would arise
To us; we watch'd for Nations, but their pow'r
Could not protect us from so great a showre.
They hunt our steps, our oft-extended feet
Cannot divide their paces in the street:
Our end is neer, and our days total sum
Is now fulfill'd, for now our end is come.
Our persecuters, our tormentors are
Swifter then Eagles that enforce the ayr:
Upon the mountains they pursu'd us; They,
To trap our feet, in ambushcado lay.
Those pits, which they for ruine have appointed,
Inclos'd our souls delight, the Lords anointed;
Under whose shadow we shall live, we said,
Amongst the Heathens; thus are we dismay'd.
Oh Edoms daughter! now stretch out thy voyce,
Be glad; and for a time in Uz rejoyce:
This cup shall pass along to thee, thou shalt
Be drunk and naked, 'cause thou didst revolt.
55
No more will lead thee to captivitie:
But Edom, oh lament, lift up thine eyes,
For Heav'n will visit thy iniquities.
Meditatio in Capitulum.
Distracted
Sion, having spent her days
In supine negligence, stands in a maze,
Not knowing what to do: her wonted joys
Yeeld torment, not contentment, seeming toys,
And childish trifles, which perplex her more,
Then thousand pleasures pleasur'd her before.
And now her alienated mind begins
To rumiuate upon her former sins:
Her studious thoughts recount what pretious time
She spent in folly; weighing every crime
In equal balance, poising them aright,
Finds them too heavy, and her self too light.
And like a frighted bird, her winged mind
Flies up and down, thinking some rest to find
In sorrows wilderness: But ah, who can
Find a lost jewel in the Ocean!
Now we may see how her embraced folly
Is quite dissolved into melancholly.
And those lascivious hours, which she hath spent,
Seems like grim Marshals giving punishment
To an offending wretch: As in a dream,
The fancy makes each object seem extream;
And why? because the judgment which should guide
Th'unruly fancy, sleeping's layd aside:
The senses once lock'd up, the fancy may
Not only claim a priviledg to play,
But to delude, and represent those things
To meanest Subjects, which belong to Kings;
Which makes the flatter'd Sences even dance,
And leap for joy, and striving to advance
Themselves, awake; and finding all's but vain,
Reason steps in, and makes them poor again.
In supine negligence, stands in a maze,
Not knowing what to do: her wonted joys
Yeeld torment, not contentment, seeming toys,
And childish trifles, which perplex her more,
Then thousand pleasures pleasur'd her before.
And now her alienated mind begins
To rumiuate upon her former sins:
Her studious thoughts recount what pretious time
She spent in folly; weighing every crime
In equal balance, poising them aright,
Finds them too heavy, and her self too light.
And like a frighted bird, her winged mind
Flies up and down, thinking some rest to find
In sorrows wilderness: But ah, who can
Find a lost jewel in the Ocean!
Now we may see how her embraced folly
Is quite dissolved into melancholly.
And those lascivious hours, which she hath spent,
Seems like grim Marshals giving punishment
56
The fancy makes each object seem extream;
And why? because the judgment which should guide
Th'unruly fancy, sleeping's layd aside:
The senses once lock'd up, the fancy may
Not only claim a priviledg to play,
But to delude, and represent those things
To meanest Subjects, which belong to Kings;
Which makes the flatter'd Sences even dance,
And leap for joy, and striving to advance
Themselves, awake; and finding all's but vain,
Reason steps in, and makes them poor again.
Even thus was poor Jerus'lem lull'd asleep
With fancy-pleasing pleasure, which did keep
A rendezvouz within her, lest that doubt
Should interpose, and put the fancy out
Of frame; And by a more diviner art
Should breed a Meditation in her heart.
For when the wak'ned Sences once have gain'd
The upper hand, the fancy is restrain'd,
And curb'd by judgment; Reason too survives
Again, and claims her own Prerogatives.
The apprehension with her new-got pow'r
Begins to taste and apprehend how sowre
Her sweets are grown: Ah then she cries! I see
I'm turn'd to nothing, being turn'd from thee,
My great Redeemer, I have quite exil'd
Thy mercies from my bosom, and revil'd
Thy just Commands, presuming oftentimes
To urge, with my reiterated crimes,
Thy long continued patience; and exprest
No grief at all from my obdurate brest.
My eyes were still laborious to discover
New vanities; and like a heedless lover,
Whose beauty-dazel'd eyes do only view
The Superficies, seeking not how true
The heart remaineth, but can fondly be
Content with beauties bare Epitomie.
And thus my rash advent'ring Soul went on,
(Pleasures admit no intermission
To them, whose hearts are envious to obtain
A present pleasure, but a future pain:)
And ah, how quickly's yeelding flesh and blood
Surpriz'd and conquer'd by a seeming good.
A Good that's good for nothing but t'invite
Fond souls to ruine, and o're-vail the light
Of real truth: and with enforc'd delusions
Makes them take pleasure in their own confusions.
Since then, my Soul, no pleasures can be found
In this base Center; let thy thoughts rebound
From this fastideous Orb; learn to advance
Thy self above the frowns, the reach of chance:
And let th'extent of thy ambition be
Only to purchase an Eternitie
Of happiness, which shall perpetuate,
And make thee glorious in a glorious state.
Divorce thy self from thy unsum'd-up faults,
Protract no time, but clarifie thy thoughts.
Command thy self, and thou shalt be reputed
A most deserving Victor: not confuted
By any, though their noble acts may claim
A true inheritance to a lasting Fame.
For he that gives himself an overthrow,
Conquers a Kingdom, and subdues a foe.
Then arm thy self, my Soul, and strive t'out-dare
Satans attempts; be studious to prepare
Thy self, and let thy adversary see
When he is strongest, th'art as strong as he.
Let not his vain delusions, interpose
'Twixt thee, and Heav'n: Oh do not thou expose
Thy self to wilful danger, but endeavor
T'accost his actions; but beleeve him never.
Thou seest how poor Jerusalem bewails
Her sad disasters; how she stoups, and fails
Beneath the burthen of her grief, and cries,
Oh boundless grief! Oh vainest vanities!
With fancy-pleasing pleasure, which did keep
A rendezvouz within her, lest that doubt
Should interpose, and put the fancy out
Of frame; And by a more diviner art
Should breed a Meditation in her heart.
For when the wak'ned Sences once have gain'd
The upper hand, the fancy is restrain'd,
And curb'd by judgment; Reason too survives
Again, and claims her own Prerogatives.
The apprehension with her new-got pow'r
Begins to taste and apprehend how sowre
Her sweets are grown: Ah then she cries! I see
I'm turn'd to nothing, being turn'd from thee,
My great Redeemer, I have quite exil'd
Thy mercies from my bosom, and revil'd
Thy just Commands, presuming oftentimes
To urge, with my reiterated crimes,
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No grief at all from my obdurate brest.
My eyes were still laborious to discover
New vanities; and like a heedless lover,
Whose beauty-dazel'd eyes do only view
The Superficies, seeking not how true
The heart remaineth, but can fondly be
Content with beauties bare Epitomie.
And thus my rash advent'ring Soul went on,
(Pleasures admit no intermission
To them, whose hearts are envious to obtain
A present pleasure, but a future pain:)
And ah, how quickly's yeelding flesh and blood
Surpriz'd and conquer'd by a seeming good.
A Good that's good for nothing but t'invite
Fond souls to ruine, and o're-vail the light
Of real truth: and with enforc'd delusions
Makes them take pleasure in their own confusions.
Since then, my Soul, no pleasures can be found
In this base Center; let thy thoughts rebound
From this fastideous Orb; learn to advance
Thy self above the frowns, the reach of chance:
And let th'extent of thy ambition be
Only to purchase an Eternitie
Of happiness, which shall perpetuate,
And make thee glorious in a glorious state.
Divorce thy self from thy unsum'd-up faults,
Protract no time, but clarifie thy thoughts.
Command thy self, and thou shalt be reputed
A most deserving Victor: not confuted
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A true inheritance to a lasting Fame.
For he that gives himself an overthrow,
Conquers a Kingdom, and subdues a foe.
Then arm thy self, my Soul, and strive t'out-dare
Satans attempts; be studious to prepare
Thy self, and let thy adversary see
When he is strongest, th'art as strong as he.
Let not his vain delusions, interpose
'Twixt thee, and Heav'n: Oh do not thou expose
Thy self to wilful danger, but endeavor
T'accost his actions; but beleeve him never.
Thou seest how poor Jerusalem bewails
Her sad disasters; how she stoups, and fails
Beneath the burthen of her grief, and cries,
Oh boundless grief! Oh vainest vanities!
Oh dream thou not of transitory things,
Which are unconstant, having secret wings
To fly away; and flying will confound
Thy better parts, and give thy Soul a wound.
Be wary then, and let thy thoughts concur
With Heav'ns commands, and so will he transfer
His Kingdom to thee, full of lasting treasure,
Where nothing's greater then the smallest pleasure.
Which are unconstant, having secret wings
To fly away; and flying will confound
Thy better parts, and give thy Soul a wound.
Be wary then, and let thy thoughts concur
With Heav'ns commands, and so will he transfer
His Kingdom to thee, full of lasting treasure,
Where nothing's greater then the smallest pleasure.
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Chap. V.
Remember, Lord, what's come upon us; see,Ponder the greatness of our infamie.
Strangers inherit that which is our due,
Our habitation's turn'd to aliens too.
For we are Orphanes, and all fatherless,
Our Mothers are as Widows in distress.
We buy our water, (O unhappy fate!)
And purchase fewel at too dear a rate.
Our necks are persecuted and unblest,
And still we labor, but obtain no rest.
Unto the Egyptians we our hand have spread,
Desiring to be satisfied with bread.
Our buried fathers sin'd in former times,
And we have born the burthen of their crimes.
Servants have rul'd us, and there's none that will
Deliver us, but let them rule us still.
VVith peril of our lives, we have obtain'd
Our bread, because the sword was unrestrain'd.
Our skins are black, like to an oven, and dry,
Because the Famine caus'd a Tyranny.
[illeg.]ion and Judahs daughters have been led
Away, and violently ravished.
Princes are hang'd up by the hands; the faces
Of Elders have no honor, but disgraces.
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Fainted beneath the burthen of their wood.
The Elders at their gates did not abide,
The young mens musick too is layd aside.
The joy is ceas'd which was our hearts relief,
Our active dancing's turn'd to passive grief.
The crown is fallen from our heads; and wo,
Wo be to us that have offended so.
Our hearts are faint, and our suffused eyes
Are dim, because of these calamities.
Because that Sions mountain's desolate,
The foxes walk thereon to recreate
Themselves: But thou O Lord shalt sit on high,
Upon thy throne, unto Eternity.
Wherefore dost thou forsake us, and demure
Thy self so long from us that seem secure?
Turn thou, and we are turn'd; Lord we implore,
Renew our days, as thou hast done before.
But thou hast quite rejected us, and thou
Beholdst thy servants with an angry brow.
Meditatio in Capitulum.
Complaining, what is that? will that relieve
Impris'ned souls, or teach the how to grieve?
Tell me, sad Soul, can greater wants converse
With flesh and blood? nay, what more lasting curse
Can be entail'd on man, then to complain
To such an ear as will not once retain
The least expression of a grief, but cry,
Let wo attend him to Eternity?
Oh dismal sentence! and if this be all,
'Twould grieve a man, that e're he griev'd at all,
To be thus harshly answer'd, and excluded
From hopes of mercy; Be not thus deluded
Despairing Soul.
Impris'ned souls, or teach the how to grieve?
Tell me, sad Soul, can greater wants converse
With flesh and blood? nay, what more lasting curse
Can be entail'd on man, then to complain
To such an ear as will not once retain
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Let wo attend him to Eternity?
Oh dismal sentence! and if this be all,
'Twould grieve a man, that e're he griev'd at all,
To be thus harshly answer'd, and excluded
From hopes of mercy; Be not thus deluded
Despairing Soul.
Jerusalem, 'tis true, she did complain;
And was that all? Oh no, her tongue did chain
A prayer to her petition, and her eyes
Were dayly trickling for her miseries.
Where is that man, that if he chance to be
Deprived of his goods by robberie,
Will sit complaining by himself, and try
No lawful means for a recovery
Of what he lost? should we not deem him mad,
To lose that good, which might be easily had,
If sought? This proverb calls it to my mind,
He that will spare to seek, must spare to find.
Even so, if Satan, whose depriving pow'r
Shall take a watch'd advantage, and devour
The Manna of our Souls, shall we then say,
'Tis gone, 'Tis gone, Satan has stoln't away?
And ah, can these, these naked words recal
A lost estate? Oh no, 'twill but inthral
Our happiness the more; and make our grief
The more extream, admitting no relief.
My Soul, if Satan e're shall make attempt
Vpon thy weakness, lab'ring to exempt
And win thee from thy self; go and make known
Thy cause to Heav'ns Judg-Advocate: bemoan
Thy self with tears; complain, confess, and pray:
God loves confession, but abhors delay.
Run, run unto him, that thou mayst prevent
The wrath and censure of his Parliament.
Go, go, for there thou shalt be sure to find
Abundance link'd together in one mind.
There is no faction, no divisions there,
But all are setl'd in one hemisphære
Of true opinion: There is none t'expect
A bribe; or else without a bribe neglect
To agitate thy business, or exact
Upon thy guiltless conscience, or enact
Their several humors: There is none to bring
Thy Soul in danger, 'cause th'ast lov'd thy King,
Thy heav'nly King, by whom thou shalt possess
A true and no excised happiness.
Oh endless joy! a joy that far transcends
The deepest thoughts; a joy that never ends.
Be ravish'd, Oh my Soul! and meditate
Upon Jerusalem: Let her sad state
Be as a caveat to thee; let her fall
Teach thee to stand: let her detested gall
Prove honey to thee; so mayst thou derive
Thy welfare from her sorrows, and survive
In everlasting bliss: Peace beyond measure
Shall crown thee with vicssiitude of pleasure.
Play well thy game, and so will Heav'n extend
His liberal grace, and bless thee in the End.
And was that all? Oh no, her tongue did chain
A prayer to her petition, and her eyes
Were dayly trickling for her miseries.
Where is that man, that if he chance to be
Deprived of his goods by robberie,
Will sit complaining by himself, and try
No lawful means for a recovery
Of what he lost? should we not deem him mad,
To lose that good, which might be easily had,
If sought? This proverb calls it to my mind,
He that will spare to seek, must spare to find.
Even so, if Satan, whose depriving pow'r
Shall take a watch'd advantage, and devour
The Manna of our Souls, shall we then say,
'Tis gone, 'Tis gone, Satan has stoln't away?
And ah, can these, these naked words recal
A lost estate? Oh no, 'twill but inthral
Our happiness the more; and make our grief
The more extream, admitting no relief.
My Soul, if Satan e're shall make attempt
Vpon thy weakness, lab'ring to exempt
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Thy cause to Heav'ns Judg-Advocate: bemoan
Thy self with tears; complain, confess, and pray:
God loves confession, but abhors delay.
Run, run unto him, that thou mayst prevent
The wrath and censure of his Parliament.
Go, go, for there thou shalt be sure to find
Abundance link'd together in one mind.
There is no faction, no divisions there,
But all are setl'd in one hemisphære
Of true opinion: There is none t'expect
A bribe; or else without a bribe neglect
To agitate thy business, or exact
Upon thy guiltless conscience, or enact
Their several humors: There is none to bring
Thy Soul in danger, 'cause th'ast lov'd thy King,
Thy heav'nly King, by whom thou shalt possess
A true and no excised happiness.
Oh endless joy! a joy that far transcends
The deepest thoughts; a joy that never ends.
Be ravish'd, Oh my Soul! and meditate
Upon Jerusalem: Let her sad state
Be as a caveat to thee; let her fall
Teach thee to stand: let her detested gall
Prove honey to thee; so mayst thou derive
Thy welfare from her sorrows, and survive
In everlasting bliss: Peace beyond measure
Shall crown thee with vicssiitude of pleasure.
Play well thy game, and so will Heav'n extend
His liberal grace, and bless thee in the End.
| Fons Lachrymarum | |