Edward Farr, ed. Select Poetry of the Reign of Queen Elizabeth. 1845.
Psalm CXXXVIIXLIV. Francis Davison
B
We did bide,
From deare Judah far absented,
Tearing th’ aire with mournful cries,
And our eies
With their streames the streame augmented:
When poore Sion’s doleful state,
Desolate,
Sacked, burned, and enthralled,
And thy temple spoil’d, which we
Ne’er should see,
To our mirthles mindes we called.
Vp we hoong
On greene willowes neare beside vs,
When, we sitting so forlorne,
Thus in scorne
Our prowd spoilers ’gan deride vs:—
And your moanes
Vnder Sion’s ruynes bury;
To your harps sing vs some layes
In the praise
Of our God, and let’s be merry.
And our moanes
Vnder Sion’s ruynes bury?
Can we in this land sing laies
To the praise
Of our God, and here be merry?
To bewaile
Thine affliction miserable,
Let my nimble joynts become
Stiffe and nombe,
To touch warbling harp vnable.
Let it still
To my parched rooffe be glewed,
If in either harpe or voice
I rejoyce,
Till thy joyes shall be renewed.
Beare in mind
In our ruyne how they revell’d:
Kill, sack, burne! they cride out still,
Sack, burne, kill;
Downe with all, let all be levelled!
Of thy pride,
Now a flowing, falls to turning,
Victor now, shalt then be thrall,
And shalt fall
To as lowe an ebb of mourning.
As thou hast
Vs without all mercie wasted,
And shall make thee tast and see
What by thee,
Wee, poor wee, haue seene and tasted!
From the armes
Of their wayling mothers tearing,
’Gainst the walls shall dash their bones,
Rutheles stones
With their braynes and blood besmearing.