By John Donne
For the most part according to Tremelius
CHAPTER I
HOW sits this citie, late most
populous,
Thus solitary,
and like a widdow thus!
Amplest of Nations,
Queene of Provinces
She was, who now this tributary is!
Still in the
night shee weepes, and her
teares fall
Downe by her cheeks along, and
none of all
Her lovers
comfort her; Perfidiously
Her friends
have dealt, and now are enemie.
Unto great
bondage, and
affliction
Juda is captive led; Those
nations
With whom shee
dwells, no place of rest afford,
In
straights shee meets her
Persecutors sword.
Emptie are the gates of Sion, and her
waies
Mourne, because none come to her
solemne dayes.
Her
Priests doe groane, her maides are
comfortless,
And shee's unto her
selfe a bitternesse.
Her foes are growne her head, and live
at Peace,
Because when her
transgressions did increase,
The
Lord strooke her with sadnesse: Th'enemie
Doth drive her children to
captivitie.
From Sions
daughter is all beauty gone,
Like Harts, which seeke for Pasture, and find none,
Her
Princes are, and now before the foe
Which still pursues them, without
strength they go.
Now in her daies of Teares,
Jerusalem
(Her men slaine by the foe, none succouring them)
Remembers
what of old, shee
esteemed most,
Whilest her foes laugh at her, for
what she hath lost.
Jerusalem hath sinn'd, therefore is shee
Remov'd, as women in
uncleannesse bee;
Who honor'd, scorne
her, for her foulnesse they
Have seene; her selfe doth groane, and
turne away.
Her
foulnesse in her skirts was
seene, yet she
Remembered not her end; Miraculously
Therefore
she fell, none
comforting: Behold
O Lord my affliction, for the Foe
growes bold.
Upon all things where her delight hath beene,
The foe hath stretch'd his hand, for shee hath seene
Heathen,
whom thou command'st, should not doe so,
Into her holy Sanctuary goe.
And all her
people groane, and seeke for bread;
And they have given, only to be fed,
All precious things,
wherein their pleasure lay:
How
cheape I'am growne, O Lord, behold,
and weigh.
All this
concerns not you, who passe by mee,
O see, and marke if any sorrow bee
Like to my sorrow, which
Jehova hath
Done to mee in the day of his fierce wrath?
That fire, which by himselfe is governed
He hath
cast from heaven on my bones, and spred
A net before my feet, and mee
o'rthrowne,
And made me
languish all the day alone.
His hand hath of my
sinnes framed a yoake
Which
wreath'd, and cast upon my neck, hath broke
My strength. The Lord unto
those enemies
Hath given mee, from whom I cannot rise.
He under foot hath troden in my sight
My
strong
men; He did company invite
To breake my young men; he the winepresse hath
Trod upon Juda's
daughter in his wrath.
For these
things doe I weepe, mine eye, mine eye
Casts water out; For he which
should be nigh
To comfort mee, is now
departed farre;
The foe
prevailes, forlorne my children are.
There's none, though
Sion do stretch out her hand,
To
comfort her, it is the Lords
command
That
Jacobs foes girt him.
Jerusalem Is
as an uncleane woman amongst them.
But yet the
Lord is just, and righteous still,
I have rebell'd against his holy
will;
O heare all people, and my sorrow see,
My maides, my
young men in captivitie.
I called for my
lovers
then, but they
Deceiv'd mee, and my Priests, and Elders lay
Dead in the citie; for they sought for meat
Which should
refresh their
soules, they could not get.
Because I am in
straights,
Jehova see
My
heart o'rturnd, my bowells muddy bee,
Because I have
rebell'd so much, as fast
The
sword without, as
death within, doth wast.
Of all which heare I mourne, none
comforts mee,
My foes have
heard my griefe, and glad they be,
That thou hast done it; But thy promis'd day
Will come, when,
as I suffer, so shall they.
Let all their wickednesse
appeare to thee,
Doe unto them, as
thou hast done to mee,
For
all my sinnes: The
sighs which I have had
Are very many, and my heart
is sad.