Book IV, 10: On our Saviours Passion

The earth did tremble; and heav'ns closed eye
Was loth to see the Lord of Glory dye;
The Skyes were clad in mourning, & the Spheares
Forgat their harmony; The Clouds dropt teares:
Th'ambitious Dead arose to give him roome;
And ev'ry Grave did gape to be his Tombe;
Th'affrighted heav'ns sent down elegious Thunder;
The Worlds Foundation loos'd, to lose their Founder;
Th'impatient Temple rent her Vaile in two,
To teach our hearts what our sad hearts should do:
Shall senslesse things doe this, and shall not I
Melt one poore drop to see my Saviour dye?
Drill forth my Teares; and trickle one by one,
Till you have pirc'd this heart of mine, this Stone.