Sions Elegies: Threnodia III, Eleg. 7

GReat GOD! what helpe (ah me) what hope is left
To him, that of thy prescence is bereft?
Absented from thy favour, what remaines,
But sense, and sad remembrance of my paines?
Yet hath affliction op'ned my dull eare,
And taught me, what in weale I ne're could heare;
Her scourge hath tutor'd me with sharpe corrections
And swag'd the swelling of my proud affections;
Till now I slumbred in a prosp'rous dreame,
From whēce awak'd, my griefes are more extreame;
Hopes newly quickned, have my soule assur'd,
That griefes discover'd, are one halfe recur'd.