Song XXXVIII. The Lamentation

Mourn London, mourn
Bathe thy polluted oul in tears:
Return, return;
Thou hast more cause of grief, then th' hadst fo
For the whole Kingdo now begins
To feel thy sorrows, as they saw thy sins,
And now do no
Compassion show
Unto thy misery and wo
But slight thy sufferings as thou didst theirs.

Pride, towring pride,
And boyling lust, those fatal twins
Sit side by side,
And are become plantations of sins.
Hence thy Relellions first did flow,
Both to the King above, and him below:
And fordid floth,
The Nurse of both,
Have rais'd thy crimes to such a growth,
That sorrow must conclude as sin begins.

Fire raging fire,
Shall burn thy stately towers down,
Yet not expire;
Tygres and Wolves, or men more savage grown,
Thy childrens brains, and thine shall dash,
And in your bloud their guilty tallons wash;
Thy Daughters must
Allay their lust;
Mischiefs will be on miscief thrust,
Till thy Cap tumble, as thou mad'st the Crown

Cry London cry!
Now now petition for redress;
Where canst thou fly?
Thy emptied chests augment thy heaviness,
The Gentry and the Commons loath,
Th' adored Houses slight thee worse then both;
The King poor Saint,
Would help but can't:
To heav'n alone unfold thy want
Thence came thy plagues, thence only pity flow'th.

Written in 164.