Sions Elegies: Threnodia I, Eleg. 9

IErusalem is all infected over
With Leprosie, whose filth, no shade can cover,
Puft up with pride, unmindfull of her end,
See how she lyes, devoid of helpe, or friend.
Great Lord of Lords (whose mercy far transcēds
Thy sacred Iustice) whose full Hand attends
The cries of empty Ravens, bow downe thine eare
To wretched Sion, Sion drownd in teares;
Thy hand did plant her, (Lord) she is thy vine,
Confound her foes: they are her foes, and thine:
Shew wonted favour to thy holy hill.
Rebuild her walls, and love thy Sion still.