Sions Elegies: Threnodia IIII, Eleg. 12

MAy thy dull senses (O unhappy Nation,
Possest with nothing now, but desolation)
Collect their scatter'd forces, and behold
Thy novell fortunes, ballanc'd with the old;
Couldst thou, ô could thy prosp'rous heart cōceive
That mortall powre, or art of State could reive
Thy' illustrious Empire of her sacred glory,
And make her ruines, the Threndian story
Of these sad times, and ages yet to be?
Envie could pine, but never hope to see
Thy buildings crusht, and all that glory ended,
Which Man so fortifyde, and Heav'n defended.