Quarles - PR3652 D58 1669

436 SionJ Eltgiu. Our torments are too gentle ; yet too rough They gripe too hard, becaufe not hard enough ; My people tear their trembling ftefh, for food, And from their ragged ,wounds they fuck forthblood : The father dies, and leaves his pined Coarfe, 1... 'T' inrich his heir with meat ; the hungry Nurfe Broyles her fiarv'd fuckling on the hafty coles, Devours one half,and hdes the reft in holes. 0 Tyrant famine! th~t compell'ft the Mother 1 To kill one hungry ·Child to feed anoth~r ! E.LEG. II. Ament, 0 fad 1erufalem, lament; . . 0 weep,if all thy tears be yet unfpepf; · Weep ( wafted Judah J let no drop be kept Unfhed, let not one tear l!e left unwept; . For angry heaven bath nothing left undone, To bring thy Ruines ,.to perfeftion: . · No curfe, no plague the J.lerce Almighty bath Kept back, to fum the total ofhi·s wrath: ThyCity burns, thySirm is difpoil'd ; Thy_wives are Ravifh't, and thy maids defil'd; ' Famine at home, the Sword abroad deftoyes thee: Thou cry'ft to heav'ri, and heav'n his ear denies thee~ I E LEG. 12. ·- M Ay thy dull fenfe~ (O unhappy Nation, _ . Poifeft with nothing now but defolation! J Collett their fcatter~d forces, and behold Thy novel fort ne~ baUanc'd with thedid? . Couldfl: thou, 0 could thy profp'rous heart concetve, That mor_tal pow'r, or art ofSrate could reive Thy illuftrious Empire of her fatred glory, And makeher Ruines the Tbrenodian ftory ' ' . ' Of

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