LONDONS LAMENTATION: OR, Godly sorrow and submission.
OH whither shall I Flee? Where must I Go?
I am undone, my sins pursue me so:
If I should wander all the World about,
They will me follow, and will find me out
My Bones do tremble, and my Heart doth ake,
God's dreadful Arrows make me fear and quake
I know not what to do, I dare not stay,
And 'tis in vain I'me sure to run away.
I will not stir afoot, I will not shrink,
This bitter Cup God gives me, I will drink,
And take it kindly at his Sacred Hand,
I'le not refuse it; I will notwithstand
His Will and Pleasure: shall be my direction,
Under his Wings I hope to find Protection.
If he do Scourge, and whip me never so,
I will not Flee, I will not from him go:
But humbly at his Footstool I will lie,
And if I Live, I Live; If Dye, I Dye.
My Sins are Numberless, I must confess;
But if compar'd they be to God's Goodness,
They are as Nothing: Then appear they will,
Like a small Molehill to a mighty Hill.
My Friends forsake me, they are fled away,
But GOD I hope will be my staffe and stay:
He will not fail me, will not me forsake,
Nor of a City me a Desart make.
I hope the World shall see that God above,
Doth not me hate, but dearly doth me love;
And that the time will come, I trust e're long,
When God will put into my mouth a Song
Of Thanks and Praise, then shall I see and know,
My Scarlet sins are wash'd as white as Snow.
I do confess, O LORD, I do confess,
My sins are altogether Numberless:
But to thy only Mercy I appeal,
For I am sure that hand that smites, can heal.
Thy Grace and Mercy is my only stay,
For Mercies Sake I do thee humbly pray,
Pardon my Sins, with Hyssop make me clean,
For Christ his Sake restore me once again
To thy blest Favour, and I then will give
My self unto thee, and will ever live
Unto thy glory, and will spend my Dayes,
In killing Sin, and to my Makers Praise.
Thy PLAGUES are on me, and thy heavy hand
So sore doth Crush me, that I cannot stand;
My Enemies me daily do Revile,
My Forreign Foes that hate me, laugh and smile,
Because thou dost Chastise me with thy Rod;
Are these the People that did trust in God?
Where is He now, say they, Hee'll not them Own?
Both they and all their Works are fully known.
My heart would break in pieces, I should be
Like one that's dead, but that I trust to see
Thy Love, thy Mercy, and thy Gracious Smile,
Although I suffer Punishment awhile;
I willingly submit my self to God,
And with Humility will kiss the Rod
He whips me with: I will not take it ill,
But will be subject to his Sacred Will;
Although his hand lie on me very sore,
And DEATH himself stands vaunting at the door,
And GYANT like doth Domineer and Brave,
And with his Fist doth Fell into the GRAVE,
Above FIVE HUNDRED in a single day,
And will have more before HE go away;
Yet on my God I wholly do depend,
Who in his time I know will comfort send:
If that the Hills into the Sea was hurl'd?
Or that a Fire did overspread the World?
I would not fear, I would not be dismaid,
God is my Rock, why should I be afraid?
He is my only trust, my staffe and stay,
So that I may (I hope) with safety say,
The LORD is my salvation, and my light,
My GOD, my guide, my strength, and eke my might;
In this same punishment, methinks I see
His tender Mercy, and his Love to me.
His Strokes and Lashes do me plainly tell,
He whips me now to keep me out of Hell.
I do commit my self to Gods good grace,
And will sincerely seek his gracious face:
For whom have I in Heaven but him alone?
And upon Earth there is not any one,
That in comparison of him I love,
My only trust is in my God above.
His strength and goodnesse nothing doth abate;
For whom he once loves, he doth never hate:
He doth but frown upon me now awhile,
That afterwards he may more fully smile.
I'me not forsaken, though I be cast down,
My God will but awhile upon me frown;
I shall again be had in Reputation,
And be the Glory of the ENGLISH NATION!
Although my Friends are fled, and run away,
And will not with me in my Troubles stay;
But SWALLOW-like away they fast do flie,
In my distress they will not me come nigh:
Though Friends do fail, yet God I trust will never,
Because his mercies do endure for ever!
Ease me good Lord, take off thy heavy hand,
These PLAGUES I am not able to withstand:
Consume me not, O do not me destroy,
Instead of Grief, I pray thee send me Joy.
Come, come, good God, make haste, do not delay,
To do me good, I do thee humbly pray.
FINIS.
Poor CITY, how thou dost thy Self bemoan,
How sadly dost thou sigh, lament and groan;
If thou with Patience wilt a little Stay,
Ʋpon my Word I'le wipe thy Tears away.