THE Lamentations of the Prophet JEREMIAH paraphrased. Suitable to the exigencies of these times. P. Jeremiah. 9 1. O that my head were water …, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night for the slain of the daughter of my people. S. Luke 19 41. Jesus, when He was come near, beheld the City, and wept over it, 42. Saying, If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy peace! But now— London, Printed Novemb. 11. the day on which His Majesty, God bless Him, retired from Hampton-Court. M. D. C. XLVII. To the Reader. THe sad condition of this unhappy Nation, so parallel to that of the jews both in her Sin and Punishment, may be a sufficient Apology for the setting forth of these most pathetical Lamentations of the Prophet Jeremiah. Which being so perfect an Idea and representation both of what we have unjustly done against the sovereign Majesty of Heaven and Earth, and of what we most justly suffer from the same most righteous hand, I am confident the propounding of them to the public view in this plain and familiar Paraphrase cannot be less acceptable and welcome, than it is seasonable & proper. The undertaking of an Epicaedium in general will be soon justified by the carriage of all sorts of people in the case of common danger by Fire or Water; every one then contributing his best assistance, either at the pump or bucket. And it will be quickly understood why in special I conformed my sense and expression of our present miseries to the language of the Prophet jeremiah, or rather of the Holy Ghost himself, if we consider the strange squeziness of soul most people are possessed with, in their several glosses and interpretations of our unnatural distractions. My desire is, as to insinuate and work kindly upon the affections of all, though of never so different judgement, in the serious and passionate meditation of our common miseries, so indeed not to provoke any gall, or rub harshly upon any sore, while the consideration of our present sad condition is represented only in general to the sober and solemn thoughts of pious and well affected souls. This if I can obtain I have my end; and shall satisfy myself with this assurance, that, if God have not decreed the present ruin of the Nation for our great unthankfulness, we shall yet enjoy the Gospel of Peace, and the Peace of the Gospel. And let all the people say, Amen. The Lamentations of the Prophet JEREMIAH. CHAP. I. HOw doth the City solitary sit That multitudes of people had in it? How is she as a widow now bemoaned? She that among the Nations enthroned, Among the Provinces a Princess was, How doth she now pay tribute? how? alas! She weepeth sore all night, and on her cheek Tears, cruel tears, her fairest beauties break: Among her lovers none her grief allay, Her friends are turned foes, and her betray. Judah into captivity is gone Great servitude and great affliction: Among the heathen rest she findeth none, But greater straits of persecution. The ways of Zion mourn, because that none Her solemn Feasts keep with devotion. Her gates are desolate, her Priests do sigh, Her Virgins are afflicted bitterly. Her adversaries are the chief; her foe Doth prosper; for the Lord hath brought her low: The multitude of her transgressions Enslaves her children to the Nations. Thy daughter's beauty, Zion, all is gone, Her Princes here and there, like Hearts, do run, Yet find no pasture: nor doth strength remain Her from the fierce pursuer to mantein. Jerusalem remembered, in the days Of her affliction, all the merry Mays, All the delightful things she did enjoy, When cruel foes her people did destroy, And none did help: thus was she, all forlorn, Seen by her foes; her Sabbaths were their scorn. Jerusalem hath greiveously transgressed, Therefore she wanders far, and finds no rest. All, that once honoured her, her now despise, Her nakedness was sport unto their eyes. Yea, quite ashamed of herself for lack Of Grace and wit, she sighs and turneth back. Her filthiness is in her skirts; her end Comes never to her mind, to make her mend: So by God's wrath she wonderfully fell; She had no comforter of peace to tell. On my affliction, Lord, cast thou an eye, For, lo, my foe himself doth magnify. All that was pleasant, or to her most dear, Lay vanquished by her foes triumphant spear. And she hath seen, o height of all disgrace! The heathen folk invade her Holy-place; On whom was laid of old this strict command, Come never, never, on this Holy land. Her people sigh, seek bread, and to relieve Themselves with meat, their pleasant things do give: See, Blessed God, consider these my throes, How vile I am become unto my foes. O all ye Passengers behold and see, Is all this nothing that befalleth me? Was ever any sorrow like to mine? See, was there ever such a naked vine? Was the Almighty vengeance ever seen So hard on any, as on me't hath been? Or was there ever such a day of wrath, So cruel, as to me this proved hath? Fire from above into my bones he sent, Which did in his just anger them torment. For me he spread a net, he turned me back; I desolate and faint all comforts lack. His hand hath yoked my sin and misery, Which on my neck lie wreathed heavily. My strength is gone; the Lord hath made me fall Into their hand; rise up I never shall. The Lord ●'th midst of me hath trodden down. My mighty men, my chiefest joy and crown: He an Assembly did against me call, Which should my young men crush, my maids enthrall. The Virgin, Judah's daughter, was by God, As in a winepress, pitifully trod. For this I weep, mine eye, mine eye runs down, Whole floods of tears my soul and body drown, Because the comforter that should relieve My soul, doth unto me no comfort give. My children most disconsolately cry Because of the prevailing enemy. Zion spreads forth her hands, but there is none To comfort her: the Lords command is gone Concerning Jacob, that his cruel foes Should hedge him in, him round about enclose. Nor wonder at it, since Jerusalem Is as a menstruous woman among them. The Lord is just, for I rebelled have Against the Holy Laws which he me gave. All people hear, I pray, my grief behold, My virgins, my young men for slaves are sold. I called my Lovers, but they me deceived: I of my Priests and Elders was bereaved, Who in the City did give up the Ghost; For want of meat, alas! their souls were lost. Behold, o Lord, for I am in distress; My troubled bowels yern: I do confess My rebel-sins: my heart relents, o God; Death me bereaves at home, the sword abroad. My bitter sighs and groans came to their ear, But yet to comfort me did none appear. When all my foes had heard my trouble's story, That thou hadst done it; Lord, how did they glory! But when that Day, by thee prefixed, gins, Their woes shall be like mine, as were their sins. As all their wickedness is known to thee, So do to them as thou hast done to me For all my sins. Dear God, hear my complaint; My sighs are many, and my heart is faint. CHAP. II. Zion, how hath the Lord thy daughter's fame Enveloped in a cloud of wrath and shame! How from the Heaven to the Earth, to Hell, Cast down the beauty of his Israel! Why did be in the day of his fierce heat The footstool of his glory so forget! The Lord hath jacob's habitations Quite swallowed up without compassions. He with the ground, o Judah, levelled hath Thy strongest Holds in his inflamed wrath: Thy towers to the Earth he hath cast down, Polluting both thy Princes and thy Crown. The glorious horn and strength of Israel In His just indignation down fell: His right hand from before the enemy He hath drawn back; and against Jacob he Burned like a flaming fire, which no bound Observeth ever, but devoureth round. He like an enemy hath bend his bow, Stands armed on his right hand, as doth a foe. All that were pleasant to the eye he slew; And what was most to view, Within thy daughters rich pavilion, His fury like a flame did seize upon. The Lord, as unto Israel a foe, Did all her Princely palaces o'erthrow: Her strong holds he destroyed, and brought upon Thy daughter, Judah, lamentation. His Tabernacle he by violence Took down, as if some gardens slighter fence: Her places of Assembly, Solemn Feasts, And Sabbaths are forgot in Zion: Priests, And Kings, anointed with the sacred horn, Are now become the subjects of his scorn. His Altar he cast off, and did profane The holy place, once called by his name. Her Palace and God's house her foes possessed, Who made a noise as on a solemn Feast. The wall of Zion it is God's design To ruin; he hath stretched out a line: See, how it works: The Rampart and the wall Do both lament, do both together fall. Her gates are sunk into the ground: her bar Is broken down: her King and Princes are Among the Gentiles: see, the Law is gone, Her Prophets find from God no vision. Her elders silent on the earth do sit, Ashes upon their heads they cast; and fit Sackcloth about their loins: her virgin's sigh, Hang down their heads, and wail their misery. Mine eyes do fail with tears, my bowels melt; Such troubles never were by any felt: My liver's poured out: see, all conspire My daughter's ruin; Famine, Sword and Fire Combine against her; nay the suckling's faint In her, among all Cities once the Saint. Whet's corn and wine? they to their mother's cry, When in the City streets they famished , And swooning, ready to pour out their soul Into their mother's laps, who them condole. To what shall I thee liken or compare, O daughter of Jerusalem? my care Is what to equal to thee, that I may Some comfort to distressed Zion say. Thy breach, great as the sea, who can conceal? The greater mischief is, none can thee heal. The Prophet's foolish things for thee have seen, By them thy sins have not disclosed been. False burdens they to thee did represent Not the true causes of thy banishment. All passengers at thee their hands do clap, They hiss and wag their heads at thy mishap. They say, Is this Earth's joy, this Zion? this The paragon of beauty and of bliss? Thine enemies their mouth have opened wide, They hiss and gnash their teeth, they thee deride. See, see, she's swallowed up: This is the day We looked for, have found, have seen. Away. The Lord hath done what he long since foretold; He hath fulfilled the word he spoke of old. He hath thrown down, he hath not pitied; Thy foes set up their horn, exalt their head. At last their heart unto the Lord did cry. O wall of Zion, full of misery, Let tears run down like river's day and night, Nor rest thou, nor the apple of thy sight. Virgin arise, and in the night cry out, Before the morning watches pass about; Thy heart, like water, pour before the face Of thy dear Lord; and to his holy place Lift up thy hands; thy children's life implore, Who in the streets lie faint at every door. Consider, Lord, with whom this Cup began: Shall women eat their children of a span? Shall Priest and Prophet, Blessed God, be slain Within that holy place where thou dost reign? The young and old upon the ground do lie, My virgins and young men by sword do die. In that thy day of wrath thou didst them slay, Thou hadst no pity, Lord; wouldst have no nay. As in a solemn day or Festival, My terrors round about me thou didst call. When thou wast angry, Lord, none did remain, None did escape to comfort me again. They that were swaddled and brought up by me Were all consumed by mine enemy. CHAP. III. I am the man have seen affliction By his sharp rod of indignation. He did me to those shades of darkness bring, Whence will no beams of light for ever spring. Sure, against me, me only did he turn His hand, which me, as fire, did all day burn. My flesh and skin, alas! are waxed old; My bones are broken; not one whole is told. A battering fort he did against me rear; He compassed me with travel, gall and fear. Dark places he hath caused me to possess, As they that died of old, remediless. No getting forth, he hath so hedged me round; My chains lie heavy, press me to the ground. Nay, when to him I cry, nay, when I shout, In anger he my prayer shutteth out. With hewn stone he hath enclosed my way; My paths are crooked, and I go astray. Me, as a Lion in the woods, to bait, For me he, as a Bear, doth lie in wait. He hath me turned aside, to pieces torn, Hath made me desolate and all forlorn. His bow he bend, and, though with great regret, Me for the arrow as a mark he set. The arrows of his quiver he hath made My reins to enter, and my soul invade. My people had me in derision; Made me their song, me all day gaped upon. He hath me filled with bitterness; I sunk As if I were with gall and wormwood drunk. With gravel stones my teeth all broken are; Me hath he rolled in ashes, girt with hair. Thou hast removed my soul far off from peace; Thou mad'st prosperity from me to cease. Thee, thou, o Lord, I once relied upon; My strength is perished now, my hope is gone. Good God remember my affliction, My wormwood, gall, and desolation. These when my soul doth call to memory, How low it bows, how humble then am I! These are my thoughts, this I recall to mind, In this I hope, and, hoping, comfort find. That we art not consumed, Lord, we owe To thee, whose bowels still with mercies flow. Each morning they renew, and go their round, Thy faithfulness is great and knows no bound. The Lord's the lot, and portion of my soul; Therefore my hope in him shall none control. The Lord is good to them that for him wait: That soul that seeks him shall his grace relate. Great comfort unto man it doth afford, To wait for the salvation of the Lord. It's good for man, and doth to God endear, If in his youth the yoke of God he bear. He sits alone, in silence is content, Because God laid it on, doth not relent. His mouth he putteth in the dust; if so, If to him any hope from thence may grow. His cheek he giveth to the smiter, he Is filled full with scorn and obloquy. The Lord, though just yet, bears a father's love, Nor w●ll me, though a sinner, still reprove. Though he cause grief yet his compassions Are greater far than our transgressions. He doth not from his heart, not willingly, Afflict or us, or our posterity. The prisoners of the earth under his feet To crush, as filth or garbage of the street; To turn aside the right of any man, Before his face who should the right mantein; And to subvert a cause, for fear or love, The Lord, the righteous Judge doth not approve. Who is't that saith and it doth come to pass, That never by the Lord commanded was? Believe it, from the mouth of the most high Proceed not good and evil, truth and lie. O why, why doth a living man complain! It is but just that sin should have its pain. O let us search our ways, them let us try, And turn to God in deep humility. O let us with our hands lift up our heart To God in heaven, who will grace impart. We have transgressed, we rebelled have; No pardon from thy justice can we crave. Us in thine anger thou didst persecute, Thou didst not pity, Thou didst execute. Lord, thou thy face didst cover with a cloud, Thou wouldst not hear our cries, though ne'er so loud. As the offscouring we are made o God, And refuse of the people all abroad. How all our enemy's triumph and vaunt! How open they their mouths, how they us taunt! Fer and a snare our souls is come upon, Sure desolation and destruction. Mine eye, mine eye with floods of tears runs o'er, My daughters sad estate I much deplore. Mine eye doth trickle down, and doth not cease, Will have no intermission, no release. Until the Lord shall look from heaven's throne, And thence behold my grief, and hear my groan. Mine eye affects my heart, my heart mine eye, So dismal is my daughter's misery. Me as a bird mine enemies did chase, Me sorely without cause they did disgrace. Me in the pit they did of life deprive, And casting stones my ruin did contrive. Over mine head did streams of waters run, I said▪ I am cut off, I am undone. O Lord my God upon thy name I called Out of the dungeon, where I was enthralled. Thou heardst my voice; o do not shut thine ears Or at my sigh, Lord, or at my tears. When I on thee did call, thou drewest near; In mercy thou saidst to me, do not fear. The causes of my soul thou, Lord, didst plead; Thou didst my life redeem in her great need. Lord, thou hast seen the wrongs they did to me; judge thou my cause, o thou my Patron be. Their vengeance and their fury, thou hast seen: Their thoughts against me all have cruel been. Their scorns and their reproaches thou didst here; All their designs against me cursed were. The talk of those that did against me rise Thou heardst, and what all day they did devise. Behold, when they rise up, or down do lie, I am their music and their melody. Requite them, Lord, that's all that I demand, According to the work of their own hand. Ah! let their heart with sorrow be oppressed; Give them thy curse, let them be never blest. In anger persecute, and to be eav'n, Destroy them, o my God, from under heaven. CHAP. FOUR How is the gold become so dim? alas! How is the gold now changed, most fine that was? How do the stones, Lord, of thy holy place Lie scattered in the streets before thy face? How are thy precious sons, my Love, my Care, Which with the finest gold might once compare, How are they now cast by as earthen pots, By the laborious hand digged out of grots? The monsters of the sea draw out their breast, From suckling of their young they never rest; The daughter of my people cruel is, As is the Ostrich in the wilderness. The sucking infants tongue for thirst doth cleave Unto his : but can faith believe, That the young children, who nought else can speak, Should ask for bread, and none to them should break? They that did feed most high and delicate Do pine, and in the streets lie desolate. They that descended of most noble race, In stead of scarlet, dunghills do embrace. The daughter of my people did surpass Proud Sodoms sin and punishment: alas! As in a moment she was overthrown, No hand upheld, none stayed her falling down. Her Nazarites were purer than the snow, No milk so white but they did it outgo: They were more ruddy than the Rubies are, Their polishing excelled the Sapphires far. Their visage blacker than a coal appears, Them mourning in the street none knows or hears: Their skin cleaves to their bones, is withered, And, like a stick without all moisture, dead. They, whom the sword hath slain, far better be, Then they that slain with thirst and hunger die: For these do pine away, are stricken through, For want of fruits which in the field do grow. The women, that all tender pity's breath, They, they, their own, their dearest Infants seethe To satisfy their hunger: These, their meats, O Zion, when destruction swept thy streets. The Lord his fury now accomplished hath, And justly poured out his feircest wrath: A fire burns up thy habitations, And hath devoured the foundations. Nor Princes that in Majesty excel, Nor People that on Earth's vast bounds do dwell, Would have believed, our foes, those cruel men, Should make such havoc in Jerusalem. Her Prophet's fins, her Priests iniquities, The fatal causes of her miseries; That made a channel through the City run, Stained with the blood of saints by them undone. As blindmen wander up and down the street, So in by ways trod their misguided feet, With blood so much polluted, that who ere Their garments touched, with blood polluted were. Depart, it is unclean; depart, they cry, Depart, touch not, when wandering they fly: Among the Heathen this was all the talk, They shall no more or sojourn there, or walk. The anger of the Lord did them divide, He will no more regard, no more them guide: The persons of the Priests have no respect, The Elders without favour they reject. For us, vain was our hope, our eyes did fail, Expecting help from man who is but frail. We looked, we waited for a Nation, Which could not help, nor bring salvation. They hunt our steps, they dog us in the way, That going in the streets we go astray; Our end is near, our days fulfilled are; Our end is come; of help we quite despair. The eagles of the heavens for their prey Are not so swift and eager, as are they Our persecuting foes, who on the hills Pursue, and lie in wait to do all ills. Our breath, and thy Anointed, o our God, Is taken in the nets they spread abroad: Of whom we said, Under his shadow we Among the heathen shall preserved be. Rejoice, o Edom's daughter, in thy spoils; Rejoice, o land of ●…z, in our turmoils: The Cup of fury shall come round to thee, And thou shalt drunken, thou shalt naked be. Thus was thy sin, o Zion, punished; Thou shalt no more by him be captive led: But as for thee, proud Edom, God shall visit Thy sins upon thee, after thy demerit. Chapter the Fift. Remember, o our God, what we have born; Consider our reproach, behold our scorn. How strangers do our heritage possess; Our houses aliens; we have no redress. We Orphans are, alas! and fatherless; Our Mothers are as Widows in distress. For water, all our drink, we pay and crave, Out wood is sold to us, as to a slave. Our necks are under persecution; We labour hard, no mitigation. With Egypt and Assyria we combined, That they, to satisfy us, bread might find. Our Fathers died for their iniquities; We bear their sins, we bear their miseries Servants, as Lords, have 〈◊〉 at their command; And none do us deliver 〈◊〉 their hand. We gate our bread 〈◊〉 peril of our life; With wilderness and sword we were at strife. Our skin was like an Oven scorched and black; The cruel storms of famine broke our back. Thy maids and women ravished in the street, O Zion, wailed themselves at their foes feet. The Princes and the Peers they execute; Nor have the Elders honour or repute. Our lusty youth they took and forced to grind; Our children cloven their wood against their mind. The Elders ceased from the Judgement seat; Our young men from their music did retreat. Our joy hath now a long vacation, Our dance is turned to lamentation. Our crown, our glory from our head is gone; Woe, woe to us, our sins have us undone. For this, for this, alas! our heart is faint; For this our eye is dim, we make complaint. Because thy mountain, Zio●, is forlorn; And foxes walk upon it, to our scorn. But thou, o Lord, for ever dost endure, Thy throne from age to age is established sure. Wherefore dost thou for ever us forget? So long forsake us? o remember yet; Yet turn us, Lord, and we shall turn to thee; Our days let, as of old, renewed be. Wilt thou quite cast us off, for all thy oath? woe and alas! our God is very wroth. FINIS. 2 Chron. 36. 15 The Lord God of their Fathers sent to them by his Messengers, rising up betimes and sending: because he had compassion on His people, and on his dwelling place. 16 But they mocked the Messengers of God, and despised his words, and misused his Prophets, until the wrath of the Lord arose against his people, till there was no remedy.