Lamentations, Chapter 3

Lo, I, the Man, who by the wrath of God,
Have seene afflictions stormes, and felt his Rod!
He hath depriv'd me of the cheerefull Light;
Inveloped with Shades more darke then Night:
Against me his revengefull Forces bent;
Nor sets his Anger with the Suns descent.
My slesh hath wasted; wrinckled my smooth skin
With Sorrowes age, and broke my Bones within.
Against me digg'd atrench, cast up a mound;
With travels bitter gall besieg'd me round.
Imprison'd where no beames their brightnesse shed
Like that darke Region people by the Dead.
On every side my Flight with Barres restraines:
And clogs my galled Legs with massie Chaines.
Who stops his eares against my Cryes and Prayers:
With Stone immures, and spreads my Path with snares.
He like a Beare, or Lion, lyes in waite:
Diverts, in pieces teares, leaves Desolate.
At me, as at a marke, his Bow he drew:
Whose Arrowes in my Blood their wings imbrew,
He lets the People circle me in Throngs;
Who all the Day deride, with spitefull Songs.
With wormewood made me drunke, with gall hath fed:
My teeth with gravell broke, with Ashes spread.
My soule to Peace is such a Stranger growne;
As if I never better Dayes had knowne.
When I my wrongs to memory recall;
My Miseries, my Wormewood, and my Gall;
My Passions thus exclaime: Ah! Perished
Are all my hopes! from me my strength is fled!
These thoughts my Soule have humbl'd: trod to Earth
My Pride; and given my Hopes a second Birth.
T'was thy abundant goodnesse, Lord, that all
Did not together in one Ruine fall.
Thy Mercies with the rising Light renue:
And thy Fidelitie, as large as true.
My soule is arm'd with stedfast Confidence:
Since thou my Portion art, and strong Defence.
To those, how gracious, who on thee relye!
Who seeke thee with unfainting Industry!
Tis good to hope, and rest upon thy Truth:
Tis good to beare thy yoake in early youth.
Alone he silent sits; nor will distrust
Thy Promise, when he hides his head in Dust.
His cheeke submits to blowes, by all revil'd:
Yet knowes at length thou wilt be reconcil'd.
When God with griefe hath fixt thee to the ground:
His Mercy will powre balme into thy wound.
For He delights not in our Misery;
On those to trample who in fetters lye:
Hates that the weake should be opprest by might;
Or Justice suffer in the Judges sight.
O tell, what can befall beneath the Sun,
That is not by the Lords appointment done?
Both good and bad from Him proceeds: why then
Grudge you at punishment; vaine sinfull Men?
Turne we to God by tryall of our wayes:
To Heaven our hearts, our hands, and voyces, raise.
We have transgres'd, rebell'd; no pardon gaine:
The Food of Wrath; by thee pursu'd and slaine.
Thou hast with Cloud's thy selfe inclos'd of late:
Through which no Prayers of ours can penetrate.
With Men, the refuse and off-skouring made:
Whom all our Foes with open mouthes upbraid.
Fill'd with vastation, ruines, snares, and feares?
While for my Childrens losse I melt in Teares.
Nor shall those briny Rivers cease to flow,
Till God looke downe with pitie on our woe.
Mine eye, ah! wounds my heart; when I behold
My Cities Daughters to Afflictions sold.
Those who thy Beauty, Solyma, deface,
My soule like a retrived Partridge chace:
Cut from the living, in a Dungeon throwne;
And over-whelmed with a Pile of Stone.
Stormes ore my head their rowling billowes tost:
Then cry'd I, ah! I am for ever lost!
Thou from the Dungeon, Lord, my cryes didst heare:
O never from my sighes divert thine Eare!
Thou stood'st besides me in that horrid Day:
And said'st; Take courage; nor thy feare obey.
My cause, thou Lord, hast pleaded in this strife:
And from their greedy jawes redeem'd my Life.
Thou that hast seene my wrongs, restore my right:
Thou hast their vengeance seene, and cursed spight.
The malice heard which their false tongues disclose:
The thoughts and machinations of my Foes.
When they sit downe, and when they rise, I still
Become their Musick, and their Laughter fill.
Rewards according to their works disburse:
Their Hearts with Sorrow wound, blast with thy Curse.
Pursue, destroy: nor, Lord thy wrath restraine;
Till none beneath the arch of Heaven remaine.