✚ Of the horrible and wofull Destruction of, Sodome and Gomorra.
To the Tune of the nine Muses.
THe Scripture playne doth show and tell,
How Lot in Sodome Towne did dwell
Amongst the Sodomites vile:
He did rebuke their noughty liues,
Both yong and olde, both men & wiues,
Why do you your selues defile?
He often times with watry eyes,
their cause he did lament:
He wept in Hart, in gréeuous wise,
and bad them to repent,
Desiring: and praying,
From sinne they should refrayne,
Least Body, and Soule bée,
In euerlastyng payne.
¶ God doth abhorre that whorish Bed,
Whiche thonsands now therin are led,
and therin styll doth dwell:
They yeld their soules for Sacrifice,
To filthy sinne in diuers wise,
Vnto the paynes of Hell:
You rauenyng née dy men (quoth he)
That Riches haue in stoare,
Geue to the poore I say to thée,
The whiche coms to thy Doore:
To Fatherlesse, and Wydowes too,
To pyttie them take payne,
You Surffetters: and Dronkardes now
From this your Sinne refrayne.
¶ Then all in vayne, Lot preached styll.
They all did folow their selfe wyll,
For that was their desire:
For his counsell good they passed small,
In filthy sinne they wallowed all,
As filthy Swyne in Myre:
Then did the Lorde commaund that Lot,
That he should soone depart:
From amongst the Sodomites so whot,
For they should féele great smart:
The Angell then to hym he saide:
Come Lot and haste awaye:
For tyll the tyme that thou be gone,
Nothynge be done there maye.
¶ The Angell said, looke you not backe,
To sée that wofull sight and wracke,
Whiche on them now shall light:
For you out of the Towne are brought,
And are escaped from their wicked thoughts,
Wherin they do delyght:
Yet Lots wyfe she turnde backe agayne,
As soone as she was gone,
For her offence she turned was,
Into a huge Salt Stone.
Where she doth stande continually.
By Goddes decréed Iudgement:
Because she brake, and did forsake,
Goddes good Cōmaundement.
¶ The Gates of Heauen, God opened than,
So Fyer and Brymstone from thence came,
And on Sodome downe did rayne:
Gomorra Towne they did excell,
As thicke as Hayle, the Fyre it fell,
And destroyed was euery man:
Both man and Beast were burnd to Mucke,
And Babes in Mothers lap:
And eke the Chyldren that did sucke
On Mothers tender Pap:
With Fier were they burned.
O wofull grieuous sight,
They cryed, and shryked.
To healpe no boote it might.
¶ The Damselles tearetheir costly guyse
Their yelow lockes downe to their eyes,
And their Heare like Siluer Wyer:
Their sownde did reach vnto the Clowdes
With bitter teares they cryed alowde,
All burnynge in the fier:
These Townes like Gold yt shyned so bright
With flamyng fier is consumed:
The mighty God hath destroyed quite,
And brought it to the grounde:
That nought is left the Trueth to say
But stinkynge Pooles and Welles:
Whiche was a place of braue delyghtes,
And eke of pleasant smelles.
¶ Thus were these Towns brought to decay
Both all and som the trouth to say,
sauyng Lots House holde then:
And Lot hymselfe was counted tuff,
Tyll his Doughters tempted hym to lust,
As the Story sheweth playne:
Loe, wanton Girles whiche so doth burne,
In Venus pleasant games.
If that they may content their turnes,
And eake their youthfull flames,
They do desire their Fathers Bed,
The cankred flesh to please:
Alas that ye: so wanton bée,
That you wyll neuer cease.
¶ Thou mightie God that sittest on hie,
O turne our Hartes for thy mercie,
That now amend we may:
O Lorde thou saydst, and it may so be,
The Sodomits should witnes be,
Against vs at the latter day:
O heauy sayng, yf that these men,
Shall sooner mercy craue,
Then we which know Gods sainges, then
What iudgement shall we haue?
O let vs bewayle vs:
Our sinnes doth so abound,
For in short space I feare the Lorde,
In wrath wyll vs confound.
¶ O England thou like Sodome art,
In filthy sinne doth play thy part,
What sinnes are found in thée?
Thou dooest excéede Sodome in sinne,
Thou carest not for Lots preaching:
O these heauy newes wyll be,
Ye be thou sure, and sure agayne:
The stones that lieth in wall,
Because we doo so sore offend,
To God for plagues wyll call,
Therfore let sée, amends to be,
And euery one amende:
Good Lorde I say, graunt this all way,
And thus I make an end.
¶ FINIS.
¶: Imprinted at London by Richard Iohnes for Henrie Kyrkham, dwellyng at the signe of the blacke Boy: at the middle North dore of Paules church.