Sions Elegies: Threnodia II, Eleg. 4

Arts, thrild from heavē, transfix my bleeding heart
And fill my soule with everlasting smart,
Whose festring wound, no fortune can recure;
Th' Almighty strikes but seldome, but strikes sure;
His finowy arme hath drawne his steely bow,
And sent his forked shafts to overthrow
My pined Princes, and to ruinate
The weakened Pillars, of my wounded State;
His hand hath scourg'd my deare delights, acquired
My soule, of all, wherein my soule delighted;
I am the mirrour of unmasked sin,
To see her (dearely purchas'd) pleasures in.