The Lamentations of the prophet Jeremiah paraphras'd suitable to the exigencies of these times.

The Lamentations of the Prophet JEREMIAH.

CHAP. I. HOw doth the City ſolitary ſit That multitudes of people had in it? How is ſhe as a widow now bemoan'd? She that among the Nations inthron'd, Among the Provinces a Princeſs was, How doth ſhe now pay tribute? how? alas! She weepeth ſore all night, and on her cheek Tears, cruel tears, her faireſt beauties break: Among her lovers none her grief allay, Her friends are turned foes, and her betray. Judah into captivity is gone Great ſervitude and great affliction: Among the heathen reſt ſhe findeth none, But greater ſtraits of perſecution. The ways of Zion mourn, becauſe that none Her ſolemn Feaſts keep with devotion. Her gates are deſolate, her Prieſts do ſigh, Her Virgins are afflicted bitterly. Her adverſaries are the cheif; her foe Doth proſper; for the Lord hath brought her low: The multitude of her tranſgreſſions Inſlaves her children to the Nations. Thy daughters beautie, Zion, all is gone, Her Princes here and there, like Harts, do run, Yet find no paſture: nor doth ſtrength remain Her from the fierce purſuer to mantein. Jeruſalem remembred, in the days Of her affliction, all the merry Mays, All the delightfull things ſhe did enjoy, When cruel foes her people did deſtroy, And none did help: thus was ſhe, all forlorn, Seen by her foes; her Sabbaths were their ſcorn. Jeruſalem hath greiveouſly tranſgreſt, Therfore ſhe wanders far, and finds no reſt. All, that once honor'd her, her now deſpiſe, Her nakedneſſe was ſport unto their eies. Yea, quite aſhamed of her ſelf for lack Of Grace and wit, ſhe ſighs and turneth back. Her filthineſſe is in her skirts; her end Comes never to her mind, to make her mend: So by Gods wrath ſhe wonderfully fell; She had no comforter of peace to tell. On my affliction, Lord, caſt thou an eie, For, lo, my foe himſelf doth magnifie. All that was pleaſant, or to her moſt dear, Lay vanquiſh'd by her foes triumphant ſpear. And ſhe hath ſeen, ô hight of all diſgrace! The heathen folk invade her Holy-place; On whom was laid of old this ſtrict command, Come never, never, on this Holy land. Her people ſigh, ſeek bread, and to releeve Themſelves with meat, their pleaſant things do give: See, Bleſſed God, conſider theſe my throes, How vile I am become unto my foes. O all ye Paſſengers behold and ſee, Is all this nothing that befalleth me? Was ever any ſorrow like to mine? See, was there ever ſuch a naked vine? Was the Almighty vengeance ever ſeen So hard on any, as on me't hath been? Or was there ever ſuch a day of wrath, So cruel, as to me this proved hath? Fire from above into my bones he ſent, Which did in his juſt anger them torment. For me he ſpread a net, he turn'd me back; I deſolate and faint all comforts lack. His hand hath yok'd my ſin and miſery, Which on my neck ly wreathed heavily. My ſtrength is gone; the Lord hath made me fall Into their hand; riſe up I never ſhall. The Lord • 'th midſt of me hath troden down. My mighty men, my chiefeſt joy and crown: He an Aſſembly did againſt me call, Which ſhould my young men cruſh, my maids enthrall. The Virgin, Judahs daughter, was by God, As in a winepreſs, pitifully trod. For this I weep, mine eie, mine eie runs down, Whole floods of tears my ſoul and body drown, Becauſe the comforter that ſhould releeve My ſoul, doth unto me no comfort give. My children moſt diſconſolately cry Becauſe of the prevailing enemy. Zion ſpreads forth her hands, but there is none To comfort her: the Lords command is gone Concerning Jacob, that his cruel foes Should hedge him in, him round about incloſe. Nor wonder at it, ſince Jeruſalem Is as a menſtrous woman among them. The Lord is juſt, for I rebelled have Againſt the Holy Laws which he me gave. All people hear, I pray, my grief behold, My virgins, my yong men for ſlaves are ſold. I call'd my Lovers, but they me deceiv'd: I of my Prieſts and Elders was bereau'd, Who in the City did give up the Ghoſt; For want of meat, alas! their ſouls were loſt. Behold, ô Lord, for I am in diſtreſs; My troubled bowels yern: I do confeſs My rebel-ſins: my heart relents, ô God; Death me bereaves at home, the ſword abroad. My bitter ſighs and groans came to their ear, But yet to comfort me did none appear. When all my foes had heard my troubles ſtory, That thou hadſt done it; Lord, how did they glory! But when that Day, by thee prefixt, begins, Their woes ſhall be like mine, as were their ſins. As all their wickedneſs is known to thee, So do to them as thou haſt done to me For all my ſins. Dear God, hear my complaint; My ſighs are many, and my heart is faint.

CHAP. II. Zion, how hath the Lord thy daughters fame Invelop'd in a cloud of wrath and ſhame! How from the Heaven to the Earth, to Hell, Caſt down the beuty of his Iſrael! Why did be in the day of his feirce heat The footſtool of his glory ſo forget! The Lord hath Jacobs habitations Quite ſwallow'd up without compaſſions. He with the ground, ô Judah, level'd hath Thy ſtrongeſt Holds in his inflamed wrath: Thy towers to the Earth he hath caſt down, Polluting both thy Princes and thy Crown. The glorious horn and ſtrength of Iſrael In His juſt indignation down fell: His right hand from before the enemie He hath drawn back; and againſt Jacob he Burn'd like a flaming fier, which no bound Obſerveth ever, but devoureth round. He like an enemie hath bent his bow, Stands arm'd on his right hand, as doth a foe. All that were pleaſant to the eie he ſlew; And what was moſt deſireable to view, Within thy daughters rich pavilion, His fury like a flame did ſeize upon. The Lord, as unto Iſrael a foe, Did all her Princely palaces orethrow: Her ſtrong holds he deſtroy'd, and brought upon Thy daughter, Judah, lamentation. His Tabernacle he by violence Took down, as if ſome gardens ſlighter fence: Her places of Aſſembly, Solemn Feaſts, And Sabbaths are forgot in Zion: Preiſts, And Kings, anointed with the ſacred horn, Are now become the ſubjects of his ſcorn. His Altar he caſt off, and did prophane The holy place, once called by his name. Her Palace and Gods houſe her foes poſſeſt, Who made a noiſe as on a ſolemn Feaſt. The wall of Zion it is Gods deſign To ruin; he hath ſtretched out a line: See, how it works: The Rampart and the wall Do both lament, do both together fall. Her gates are ſunk into the ground: her bar Is broken down: her King and Princes are Among the Gentiles: ſee, the Law is gon, Her Prophets find from God no viſion. Her elders ſilent on the earth do ſit, Aſhes upon their heads they caſt; and fit Sackcloth about their loins: her virgins ſigh, Hang down their heads, and wail their miſerie. Mine eys do fail with tears, my bowels melt; Such troubles never were by any felt: My liver's poured out: ſee, all conſpire My daughters ruin; Famine, Sword and Fire Combine againſt her; nay the ſucklings faint In her, among all Cities once the Saint. Whet's corn and wine? they to their mothers cry, When in the City ſtreets they famiſh'd ly, And ſwooning, ready to pour out their ſoul Into their mothers laps, who them condole. To what ſhall I thee liken or compare, O daughter of Jeruſalem? my care Is what to equal to thee, that I may Some comfort to diſtreſſed Zion ſay. Thy breach, great as the ſea, who can conceal? The greater miſchief is, none can thee heal. The Prophets fooliſh things for thee have ſeen, By them thy ſins have not diſcloſed been. Falſe burthens they to thee did repreſent Not the true cauſes of thy baniſhment. All paſſengers at thee their hands do clap, They hiſs and wagg their heads at thy miſhap. They ſay, Is this Earths joy, this Zion? this The paragon of beauty and of bliſs? Thine enemies their mouth have open'd wide, They hiſs and gnaſh their teeth, they thee deride. See, ſee, ſhe's ſwallow'd up: This is the day We looked for, have found, have ſeen. Away. The Lord hath done what he long ſince foretold; He hath fulfill'd the word he ſpake of old. He hath thrown down, he hath not pitied; Thy foes ſet up their horn, exalt their head. At laſt their heart unto the Lord did crie. O wall of Zion, full of miſerie, Let tears run down like rivers day and night, Nor reſt thou, nor the apple of thy ſight. Virgin ariſe, and in the night cry out, Before the morning watches paſs about; Thy heart, like water, pour before the face Of thy dear Lord; and to his holy place Lift up thy hands; thy childrens life implore, Who in the ſtreets ly faint at every dore. Conſider, Lord, with whom this Cup began: Shal women eat their children of a ſpan? Shal Prieſt and Prophet, Bleſſed God, be ſlain Within that holy place where thou doſt reign? The yong and old upon the ground do ly, My virgins and yong men by ſword do dy. In that thy day of wrath thou didſt them ſlay, Thou hadſt no pity, Lord; wouldſt have no nay. As in a ſolemn day or Feſtival, My terrors round about me thou didſt call. When thou waſt angry, Lord, none did remain, None did eſcape to comfort me again. They that were ſwadled and brought up by me Were all conſumed by mine enemie.

CHAP. III. I am the man have ſeen affliction By his ſharp rod of indignation. He did me to thoſe ſhades of darkneſs bring, Whence will no beams of light for ever ſpring. Sure, againſt me, me only did he turn His hand, which me, as fire, did all day burn. My fleſh and skin, alas! are waxen old; My bones are broken; not one whole is told. A batt'ring fort he did againſt me rear; He compaſs'd me with travel, gall and fear. Dark places he hath caus'd me to poſſeſs, As they that dy'd of old, remedileſs. No getting forth, he hath ſo hedg'd me round; My chains ly heavy, preſs me to the ground. Nay, when to him I cry, nay, when I ſhout, In anger he my prayer ſhutteth out. With hewen ſtone he hath inclos'd my way; My paths are crooked, and I go aſtray. Me, as a Lyon in the woods, to bait, For me he, as a Bear, doth lie in wait. He hath me turn'd aſide, to pieces torn, Hath made me deſolate and all forlorn. His bow he bent, and, though with great regret, Me for the arrow as a mark he ſet. The arrows of his quiver he hath made My reins to enter, and my ſoul invade. My people had me in deriſion; Made me their ſong, me all day gap'd upon. He hath me fill'd with bitternes; I ſunk As if I were with gall and wormwood drunk. With gravel ſtones my teeth all broken are; Me hath he roll'd in aſhes, girt with hair. Thou haſt remov'd my ſoul far off from peace; Thou mad'ſt proſperity from me to ceaſe. Thee, thee, ô Lord, I once rely'd upon; My ſtrength is periſh'd now, my hope is gone. Good God remember my affliction, My wormwood, gall, and deſolation. Theſe when my ſoul doth call to memory, How low it bows, how humble then am I! Theſe are my thoughts, this I recall to mind, In this I hope, and, hoping, comfort find. That we art not conſumed, Lord, we ow To thee, whoſe bowels ſtil with mercies flow. Each morning they renew, and go their round, Thy faithfulneſs is great and knows no bound. The Lord's the lot, and portion of my ſoul; Therefore my hope in him ſhall none controul. The Lord is good to them that for him wait: That ſoul that ſeeks him ſhal his grace relate. Great comfort unto man it doth afford, To wait for the ſalvation of the Lord. It's good for man, and doth to God indear, If in his youth the yoke of God he bear. He ſits alone, in ſilence is content, Becauſe God layd it on, doth not relent. His mouth he putteth in the duſt; if ſo, If to him any hope from thence may grow. His cheek he giveth to the ſmiter, he Is filled full with ſcorn and obloquie. The Lord, though juſt yet, bears a fathers love, Nor w • ll me, though a ſinner, ſtil reprove. Though he cauſe greif yet his compaſsions Are greater far then our tranſgreſsions. He doth not from his heart, not willingly, Afflict or us, or our poſterity. The pris'ners of the earth under his feet To cruſh, as filth or garbage of the ſtreet; To turn aſide the right of any man, Before his face who ſhould the right mantein; And to ſubvert a cauſe, for fear or love, The Lord, the righteous Judg doth not approve. Who is't that ſaith and it doth come to paſs, That never by the Lord commanded was? Believe it, from the mouth of the moſt high Proceed not good and evil, truth and ly. O why, why doth a living man complain! It is but juſt that ſin ſhould have its pain. O let us ſearch our ways, them let us trie, And turn to God in deep humilitie. O let us with our hands lift up our heart To God in heaven, who will grace impart. We have tranſgreſſed, we rebelled have; No pardon from thy juſtice can we crave. Vs in thine anger thou didſt perſecute, Thou didſt not pity, Thou didſt execute. Lord, thou thy face didſt cover with a cloud, Thou wouldſt not hear our crys, though ne'r ſo loud. As the offscouring we are made ô God, And refuſe of the people all abroad. How all our enemies triumph and vaunt! How open they their mouths, how they us taunt! Fer and a ſnare our ſouls is come upon, Sure deſolation and deſtruction. Mine ey, mine ey with floods of tears runs o're, My daughters ſad eſtate I much deplore. Mine ey doth trickle down, and doth not ceaſe, Will have no intermiſsion, no releaſe. Until the Lord ſhal look from heavens throne, And thence behold my grief, and hear my groan. Mine ey affects my heart, my heart mine ey, So diſmal is my daughters miſery. Me as a bird mine enemies did chaſe, Me ſorely without cauſe they did diſgrace. Me in the pit they did of life deprive, And caſting ſtones my ruin did contrive. Over mine head did ſtreams of waters run, I ſaid▪ I am cut off, I am undon. O Lord my God upon thy name I call'd Out of the dungeon, where I was enthrall'd. Thou heardſt my voice; ô do not ſhut thine ears Or at my ſighings, Lord, or at my tears. When I on thee did call, thou dreweſt neer; In mercy thou ſaidſt to me, do not fear. The cauſes of my ſoul thou, Lord, didſt plead; Thou didſt my life redeem in her great need. Lord, thou haſt ſeen the wrongs they did to me; Iudg thou my cauſe, ô thou my Patron be. Their vengeance and their fury, thou haſt ſeen: Their thoughts againſt me all have cruel been. Their ſcorns and their reproaches thou didſt hear; All their deſigns againſt me curſed were. The talk of thoſe that did againſt me riſe Thou heardſt, and what all day they did deviſe. Behold, when they riſe up, or down do ly, I am their muſick and their melody. Requite them, Lord, that's all that I demand, According to the work of their own hand. Ah! let their heart with ſorrow be oppreſt; Give them thy curſe, let them be never bleſt. In anger perſecute, and to be eav'n, Deſtroy them, ô my God, from under heav'n.

CHAP. IIII. How is the gold becom ſo dim? alas! How is the gold now chang'd, moſt fine that was? How do the ſtones, Lord, of thy holy place Ly ſcatter'd in the ſtreets before thy face? How are thy pretious ſons, my Love, my Care, Which with the fineſt gold might once compare, How are they now caſt by as earthen pots, By the laborious hand digg'd out of grots? The monſters of the ſea draw out their breſt, From ſuckling of their yong they never reſt; The daughter of my people cruel is, As is the Oſtrich in the wilderneſs. The ſucking infants toung for thirſt doth cleave Unto his palat: but can faith beleeve, That the yong children, who nought els can ſpeak, Should ask for bread, and none to them ſhould break? They that did feed moſt high and delicate Do pine, and in the ſtreets lie deſolate. They that deſcended of moſt noble race, In ſtead of ſcarlet, dunghils do embrace. The daughter of my people did ſurpaſs Proud Sodoms ſin and puniſhment: alas! As in a moment ſhe was overthrown, No hand upheld, none ſtayd her falling down. Her Nazarites were purer then the ſnow, No milk ſo white but they did it outgo: They were more ruddy then the Rubies are, Their poliſhing excell'd the Saphyrs far. Their viſage blacker then a coal appears, Them mourning in the ſtreet none knows or hears: Their skin cleaves to their bones, is withered, And, like a ſtick without all moiſture, dead. They, whom the ſword hath ſlain, far better be, Then they that ſlain with thirſt and hunger die: For theſe do pine away, are ſtricken through, For want of fruits which in the field do grow. The women, that all tender pities breath, They, they, their own, their deareſt Infants ſeeth To ſatiſfie their hunger: Theſe, their meats, O Zion, when deſtruction ſwept thy ſtreets. The Lord his fury now accompliſh'd hath, And juſtly poured out his feirceſt wrath: A fire burns up thy habitations, And hath devoured the foundations. Nor Princes that in Majeſty excell, Nor People that on Earth's vaſt bounds do dwell, Would have beleev'd, our foes, thoſe cruel men, Should make ſuch havock in Jeruſalem. Her Prophets fins, her Prieſts iniquities, The fatal cauſes of her miſeries; That made a chanel through the City run, Stain'd with the blood of ſaints by them undon. As blindmen wander up and down the ſtreet, So in by ways trod their miſguided feet, With blood ſo much polluted, that who ere Their garments touch'd, with blood polluted were. Depart, it is unclean; depart, they cry, Depart, touch not, when wandering they fly: Among the Heathen this was all the talk, They ſhall no more or ſojourn there, or walk. The anger of the Lord did them divide, He will no more regard, no more them guide: The perſons of the Prieſts have no reſpect, The Elders without favour they reject. For us, vain was our hope, our eys did fail, Expecting help from man who is but frail. We look'd, we waited for a Nation, Which could not help, nor bring ſalvation. They hunt our ſteps, they dogg us in the way, That going in the ſtreets we go aſtray; Our end is neer, our days fulfilled are; Our end is come; of help we quite deſpair. The eagles of the heavens for their prey Are not ſo ſwift and eager, as are they Our perſecuting foes, who on the hills Perſue, and lie in wait to do all ills. Our breath, and thy Anointed, ô our God, Is taken in the nets they ſpread abroad: Of whom we ſaid, Vnder his ſhadow we Among the heathen ſhal preſerved be. Rejoyce, ô Edoms daughter, in thy ſpoils; Rejoyce, ô land of •… z, in our turmoils: The Cup of fury ſhal come round to thee, And thou ſhalt drunken, thou ſhalt naked be. Thus was thy ſin, ô Zion, puniſhed; Thou ſhalt no more by him be captive led: But as for thee, proud Edom, God ſhall viſit Thy ſins upon thee, after thy demerit.

Chapter the Fift. Remember, ô our God, what we have born; Conſider our reproach, behold our ſcorn. How ſtrangers do our heritage poſſeſs; Our houſes aliens; we have no redreſs. We Orphans are, alas! and fatherleſs; Our Mothers are as Widows in diſtreſs. For water, all our drink, we pay and crave, Out wood is ſold to us, as to a ſlave. Our necks are under perſecution; We labour hard, no mitigation. With Egypt and Aſſyria we combin'd, That they, to ſatiſfie us, bread might find. Our Fathers dy'd for their iniquities; We bear their ſins, we bear their miſeries Servants, as Lords, have 〈◊〉 at their command; And none do us deliver 〈◊〉 their hand. We gate our bread 〈◊〉 peril of our life; With wilderneſs and ſword we were at ſtrife. Our skin was like an Oven ſcorch'd and black; The cruel ſtorms of famine brake our back. Thy maids and women raviſh'd in the ſtreet, O Zion, wail'd themſelvs at their foes feet. The Princes and the Peers they execute; Nor have the Elders honor or repute. Our luſty youth they took and forc'd to grind; Our children cleft their wood againſt their mind. The Elders ceaſed from the Judgment ſeat; Our yong men from their muſick did retreat. Our joy hath now a long vacation, Our dance is turn'd to lamentation. Our crown, our glory from our head is gon; Wo, wo to us, our ſins have us undon. For this, for this, alas! our heart is faint; For this our ey is dim, we make complaint. Becauſe thy mountain, Zio • , is forlorn; And foxes walk upon it, to our ſcorn. But thou, ô Lord, for ever doſt endure, Thy throne from age to age is ſtabliſh'd ſure. Wherfore doſt thou for ever us forget? So long forſake us? ô remember yet; Yet turn us, Lord, and we ſhal turn to thee; Our days let, as of old, renewed be. Wilt thou quite caſt us off, for all thy oath? Wo and alas! our God is very wroth.

FINIS. 2 Chron. 36.

15 The Lord God of their Fathers ſent to them by his Meſſengers, riſing up betimes and ſending: becauſe he had compaſſion on His people, and on his dwelling place.

16 But they mocked the Meſſengers of God, and despiſed his words, and miſuſed his Prophets, until the wrath of the Lord aroſe againſt his people, til there was no remedie.