The Temple of Death, Art of Poetry, Duel of the Stags, etc (1695)/The Lamentations of Jeremiah
THE
LAMENTATIONS
OF
JEREMIAH.
By Mrs. Wharton.
CHAP. I.
The ARGUMENT.
Verse 1. The Miserable Estate of Jerusalem, by
reason of her Sin. 12. She Complaineth of her
Grief. 18. And confesseth God's Judgments to
be Righteous.
reason of her Sin. 12. She Complaineth of her
Grief. 18. And confesseth God's Judgments to
be Righteous.
I.How doth the Mournful Widow'd City bow?
She that was once so great: Alas, how low?
Once fill'd with Joy, with Desolation now.
She that was once so great: Alas, how low?
Once fill'd with Joy, with Desolation now.
2. Tears on her Cheeks, and Sables on her Head;
She mourns her Lover's lost, and Comfort's Dead.
Alas, alas, lost City, where are those,
So proud once to be Friends, now turn'd her Foes?
She mourns her Lover's lost, and Comfort's Dead.
Alas, alas, lost City, where are those,
So proud once to be Friends, now turn'd her Foes?
3. Judah is gone; alas, to Bondage gone,
Amongst the Heathen Judah mourns alone,
Griev'd, and in Servitude, she finds no rest,
Follow'd by none but those by whom opprest.
Amongst the Heathen Judah mourns alone,
Griev'd, and in Servitude, she finds no rest,
Follow'd by none but those by whom opprest.
4. The Feasts of Zion, no one now attends,
Unhappy Zion, destitute of Friends:
Her Priests still Sigh, and all her Virgins Mourn,
Because her Gladness now finds no return.
Unhappy Zion, destitute of Friends:
Her Priests still Sigh, and all her Virgins Mourn,
Because her Gladness now finds no return.
5. Her Enemies are great, and ever nigh,
Still Fortunate, because her Crimes were high.
Her Captiv'd Children, still her guilt upbraid,
Who Mourn whilst their Insulting Foes Invade.
Still Fortunate, because her Crimes were high.
Her Captiv'd Children, still her guilt upbraid,
Who Mourn whilst their Insulting Foes Invade.
6. Her Beauty which excell'd, is now no more
That brightness which all Nations did Adore;
Here Princes are like hunted Harts become,
Breathless and Faint, whilst the Pursuit goes on:
Alas for Zion, all their Strength is gone.
That brightness which all Nations did Adore;
Here Princes are like hunted Harts become,
Breathless and Faint, whilst the Pursuit goes on:
Alas for Zion, all their Strength is gone.
7. Jerusalem then thought upon the Hour
When she was Crown'd with Peace, Delight, and Power;
Thoughts once so Joyful, Mournful now and Vain,
The Foe Insults, whilst she no help sustains,
Mocking both at her Sabbaths and her Pains.
When she was Crown'd with Peace, Delight, and Power;
Thoughts once so Joyful, Mournful now and Vain,
The Foe Insults, whilst she no help sustains,
Mocking both at her Sabbaths and her Pains.
8. Her Crimes have caus'd her to be far remov'd,
Jerusalem, who was so well belov'd.
All those who in her Pride admir'd her Fame,
Despise her now, because thy've seen her Shame:
Sighing she turns away, with Shame distrest,
Amaz'd, Despis'd, Deserted and Opprest.
Jerusalem, who was so well belov'd.
All those who in her Pride admir'd her Fame,
Despise her now, because thy've seen her Shame:
Sighing she turns away, with Shame distrest,
Amaz'd, Despis'd, Deserted and Opprest.
9. Circl'd with Guilt and Shame, she cannot fly,
Her Comforts far remov'd, her End too nigh;
She vainly think, on that 'tis now too late,
Behold those Griefs, which no one can repeat,
Her Fall is steep, and all her Foes are great.
Her Comforts far remov'd, her End too nigh;
She vainly think, on that 'tis now too late,
Behold those Griefs, which no one can repeat,
Her Fall is steep, and all her Foes are great.
10. Her Sanctuary is by them betray'd,
All her Delights they carelesly invade,
Even the Heathen, of whom God had said,
They should not in her Holy Temple tread.
All her Delights they carelesly invade,
Even the Heathen, of whom God had said,
They should not in her Holy Temple tread.
11. Her hungry People sigh, and give away
For Bread, their Treasures, lest their Lives decay.
Consider, Lord, see her with Cares bow'd down,
For I am Vile, and Zion left alone.
For Bread, their Treasures, lest their Lives decay.
Consider, Lord, see her with Cares bow'd down,
For I am Vile, and Zion left alone.
12. All you who pass this way behold and see,
Are my Griefs small? Do others grieve like me?
Are not these Sorrows, under which I bow,
With which the Lord hath brought my Soul so low?
Turn back and Mourn with me, because my Lord
In his fierce Anger doth no Peace afford.
Are my Griefs small? Do others grieve like me?
Are not these Sorrows, under which I bow,
With which the Lord hath brought my Soul so low?
Turn back and Mourn with me, because my Lord
In his fierce Anger doth no Peace afford.
13. He from above hath Flames and Horrour sent,
Circling my Soul with Pain and Discontent;
His Snares, alas, my weary Feet betray,
Whilst Desolate and Faint, I Mourn all Day
For Zion lost, her Glory thrown away.
Circling my Soul with Pain and Discontent;
His Snares, alas, my weary Feet betray,
Whilst Desolate and Faint, I Mourn all Day
For Zion lost, her Glory thrown away.
14. Our Sins have brought those Chains which his Command
Hath fastn'd now (who can his Power withstand?)
Now they are link'd by his Almighty Hand.
The Lord forsakes, and I am now the scorn
Of Enemies, because of God forlorn:
He was my Strength, and now, alas, 'tis gone.
Hath fastn'd now (who can his Power withstand?)
Now they are link'd by his Almighty Hand.
The Lord forsakes, and I am now the scorn
Of Enemies, because of God forlorn:
He was my Strength, and now, alas, 'tis gone.
15. My Mighty Men are all by him cast down,
They're crush'd by numbers, and I'm left alone;
Whilst silently thy Virgin Daughters Mourn,
Unhappy Mournful Judah left Forlorn.
They're crush'd by numbers, and I'm left alone;
Whilst silently thy Virgin Daughters Mourn,
Unhappy Mournful Judah left Forlorn.
16. For this I Weep, and waste my self in Tears,
Because her Help's far off, and Sorrow's near:
Ah, wretched Judah, where is now thy hope?
Thy Foes still triumph whilst thy Children droop.
Because her Help's far off, and Sorrow's near:
Ah, wretched Judah, where is now thy hope?
Thy Foes still triumph whilst thy Children droop.
17. Zion spreads forth her Arms to be reliev'd,
But who can Comfort whom the Lord hath Griev'd?
Her Enemies increase and flourish still,
By his Command, by his all-powerful Will.
Ah, wretched City, scorn'd and sham'd by all,
Who can enough lament thy dreadful Fall?
But who can Comfort whom the Lord hath Griev'd?
Her Enemies increase and flourish still,
By his Command, by his all-powerful Will.
Ah, wretched City, scorn'd and sham'd by all,
Who can enough lament thy dreadful Fall?
18. Yet he is Just, for I am Guilty found,
The Lord, with Righteousness is always Crown'd.
Ye that pass by, see me with Sorrows Drown'd,
My weight of Sin hath press'd me to the Ground.
Who is it now my Freedom can restore?
My Youth and Captive Virgins are no more.
The Lord, with Righteousness is always Crown'd.
Ye that pass by, see me with Sorrows Drown'd,
My weight of Sin hath press'd me to the Ground.
Who is it now my Freedom can restore?
My Youth and Captive Virgins are no more.
19. I call'd for all my Friends, but they were gone,
Friendship grows cold, when Misery comes on:
With Hunger pin'd, my Priests and Rulers Dy'd,
Within my Walls perish'd my Strength and Guide.
Friendship grows cold, when Misery comes on:
With Hunger pin'd, my Priests and Rulers Dy'd,
Within my Walls perish'd my Strength and Guide.
20. My Crimes were great, so are my Sorrows now,
Behold my Lord, see the Afflicted bow;
Abroad th' unwearied Sword bereaves of Breath,
And Grief at Home, is a more Cruel Death.
Behold my Lord, see the Afflicted bow;
Abroad th' unwearied Sword bereaves of Breath,
And Grief at Home, is a more Cruel Death.
21. All round me hear my Sighs, and see my Tears,
Whilst there is none that can relieve my Cares:
My Foes hear, and rejoyce at what is done:
But thou wilt surely, Lord, at last return,
And then the Enemy, like me, will Mourn.
Whilst there is none that can relieve my Cares:
My Foes hear, and rejoyce at what is done:
But thou wilt surely, Lord, at last return,
And then the Enemy, like me, will Mourn.
22. Their Crimes are great, turn, Mighty Lord, and see,
Afflict 'em then, as thou Afflictest me.
My Griefs are great, turn therefore and Relent;
My Sighs are many, and my Heart is Faint.
Afflict 'em then, as thou Afflictest me.
My Griefs are great, turn therefore and Relent;
My Sighs are many, and my Heart is Faint.