And whil'st this universal choir, (That church in triumph, this in warfare here, Warm'd with one all-partaking fire

Of love, that none be lost, which cost thee dear)
Prays ceaselessly, and thou hearken too,
(Since to be gracious

Our task is treble, to pray, bear, and do)
Hear this prayer, Lord; O Lord, deliver us [thus.
From trusting in those prayers, though pour'd out

From being anxious, or secure,

Dead clouds of sadness, or light squibs of mirth;
From thinking that great courts immure
All or no happiness; or that this Earth

Is only for our prison fram'd,

Or that thou 'rt covetous

To them thou lov'st, or that they are maim'd,
From reaching this world's sweets; who seek thee thus
With all their might, Good Lord, deliver us.

From needing danger to be good,
From owing thee yesterday's tears to day,
From trusting so much to thy blood,
That in that hope we wound our souls away;
From bribing thee with alms, t' excuse
Some sin more burdenous;

From light affecting in religion news,
From thinking us all soul, neglecting thus
Our mutual duties, Lord, deliver us.

From tempting Satan to tempt us, By our connivance, or slack company; From measuring ill by vicious, Neglecting to choke sin's spawn, vanity; From indiscreet humility, Which might be scandalous, And cast reproach on christianity; From being spies, or to spies pervious; From thirst or scorn of fame, deliver us.

Deliver us through thy descent
Into the Virgin, whose womb was a place
Of middle kind, and thou being sent
T' ungracious us, stay'd'st at her full grace;
And through thy poor birth, where first thou
Glorified'st poverty,

And yet soon after riches didst allow,
By accepting kings' gifts in th' Epiphany,
Deliver, and make us to both ways free.

And through that bitter agony,
Which still is th' agony of pious wits,
Disputing what distorted thee,
And interrupted evenness with fits;

And through thy free confession,
Though thereby they were then

Made blind, so that thou might'st from them have

gone,

Good Lord, deliver us, and teach us when We may not, and we may blind unjust men.

Through thy submitting all, to blows Thy face, thy robes to spoil, thy fame to scorn; All ways, which rage or justice knows, And by which thou could'st show, that thou wast born;

And through thy gallant humbleness, Which thon in death didst show, Dying before thy soul they could express, Deliver us from death, by dying so

To this world, ere this world dobid us go.

When senses, which thy soldiers are,
We arm against thee, and they fight for sin;
When want, sent but to tame, doth war,
And work despair a breach to enter in;

When plenty, God's image and seal,
Makes us idolatrous,

And love it, not him, whom it should reveal;
When we are mov'd to seem religious
Only to vent wit, Lord, deliver us.

In churches when th' infirmity
Of him, which speaks, diminishes the word;
When magistrates do misapply

To us, as we judge, lay or ghostly sword;

When plague, which is thine angel, reigns,
Or wars, thy champions sway;
When heresy, thy second deluge, gains;
In th' hour of death, th' eve of last judgment-day,
Deliver us from the sinister way.

Hear us, O hear us, Lord: to thee
A sinner is more music, when he prays,
Than spheres or angels' praises be
In panegyric hallelujahs;

Hear us; for till thou hear us, Lord,

We know not what to say:

Thine ear t' our sighs, tears, thoughts, gives voice

and word.

O thou, who Satan heard'st in Job's sick day,
Hear thyself now, for thou, in us, dost pray.

That we may change to evenness
This intermitting aguish piety;

That snatching cramps of wickedness,
And apoplexies of fast sin may die;
That music of thy promises,
Not threats in thunder, may
Awaken us to our just offices;

What in thy book thou dost or creatures say,
That we may hear, Lord, hear us, when we pray.

That our ear's sickness we may cure,
And rectify those labyrinths aright;
That we by heark'ning not procure

Our praise, nor others' dispraise so invite;
That we get not a slipperiness,
And senselessly decline,

From hearing bold wits jest at kings' excess,
IT' admit the like of majesty divine;
That we may lock our ears, Lord, open thine.

That living law, the magistrate,

Which, to give us and make us physic, doth
Our vices often aggravate;

That preachers, taxing sin before her growth,
That Satan, and envenom'd men,

Which will, if we starve, dine,
When they do most accuse us, may see then
Us to amendment hear them; thee decline;
That we may open our ears, Lord, lock thine.

That learning, thine ambassador, From thine allegiance we never tempt; That beauty, Paradise's flow'r, For physic made, from poison be exempt; That wit, born apt high good to do, By dwelling lazily

On nature's nothing, be not nothing too; That our affections kill us not, nor die; Hear us, weak echoes, O thou ear, and cry.

Son of God, hear us; and since thou,
By taking our blood, ow'st it us again,
Gain to thyself and us allow;
And let not both us and thyself be slain.
O Lamb of God, which took'st our sin,
Which could not stick to thee,

O let it not return to us again;
But patient and physician being free,
As sin is nothing, let it no where be.

And till we come th' extemporal song to sing,
(Learn'd the first hour, that we see the king,
Who hath translated those translators) may
These, their sweet learned labours, all the way
Be as our tuning; that, when hence we part,
We may fall in with them, and sing our part.

UPON THE

TRANSLATION OF THE PSALMS,

BY SIR PHILIP SYDNEY, AND THE COUNTESS OF PEMBROKE HIS SISTER.

ETERNAL God, (for whom whoever dare
Seek new expressions, do the circle square,
And thrust into strait corners of poor wit
Thee, who art cornerless and infinite)

I would but bless thy name, not name thee now;
(And thy gifts are as infinite as thou :)
Fix we our praises, therefore on this one,
That as thy blessed Spirit fell upon
These psalms' first author in a cloven tongue,
(For 't was a double power by which he sung,
The highest matter in the noblest form ;)
So thou hast cleft that spirit, to perform
That work again, and shed it here upon
Two by their bloods, and by thy spirit one;
A brother and a sister, made by thee
The organ, where thou art the harmony;
Two, that make one John Baptist's holy voice;
And who that psalm, "Now let the isles rejoice,"
Have both translated, and apply'd it too;
Both told us what, and taught us how to do.
They show us islanders our joy, our king,
They tell us why, and teach us how to sing.
Make all this all, three choirs, Heav'n, Earth, and
spheres ;

The first, Heav'n, hath a song, but no man hears;
The spheres have music, but they have no tongue,
Their harmony is rather danc'd than sung;
But our third choir, to which the first gives ear,
(For angels learn by what the church does here)
This choir hath all. The organist is he,
Who hath tun'd God and man; the organ we:
The songs are these, which Heav'n's high holy Muse
Whisper'd to David, David to the Jews,
And David's successors in holy zeal,
In forms of joy and art do re-reveal
To us so sweetly and sincerely too,
That I must not rejoice as I would do,
When I behold, that these psalms are become
So well attir'd abroad, so ill at home;
So well in chambers, in thy church so ill,
As I can scarce call that reform'd, until
This be reform'd. Would a whole state present
A lesser gift than some one man hath sent ?
And shall our church unto our spouse and king
.More hoarse, more harsh than any other, sing?
For that we pray, we praise thy name for this,
Which by this Moses and this Miriam is
Already done; and as those psalms we call
(Though some have other authors) David's all:
So though some have, some may some psalms trans-
We thy Sydnean psalms shall celebrate; [late,

THOU, whose diviner soul hath caus'd thee now
To put thy hand unto the holy plow,
Making lay-scornings of the ministry,
Not an impediment, but victory;
What bring'st thou home with thee? how is thy mind
Affected since the vintage? Dost thou find
New thoughts and stirrings in thee? and, as steel
Touch'd with a load-stone, dost new motions feel?
Or as a ship, after much pain and care,

For iron and cloth brings home rich Indian ware,
Hast thou thus traffick'd, but with far more gain
Of noble goods, and with less time and pain?
Thou art the same materials as before,
Only the stamp is changed, but no more.
And as new crowned kings alter the face,
But not the money's substance; so hath grace
Chang'd only God's old image by creation,
To Christ's new stamp, at this thy coronation;
Or as we paint angels with wings, because
They bear God's message, and proclaim his laws;
Since thou must do the like, and so must move,
Art thou new-feather'd with celestial love?
Dear, tell me where thy purchase lies, and show
What thy advantage is above, below;
But if thy gainings do surmount expression,
Why doth the foolish world scorn that profession,
Whose joys pass speech? Why do they think unfit
That gentry should join families with it?

As if their day were only to be spent

In dressing, mistressing, and compliment.
Alas! poor joys, but poorer men, whose trust
Seems richly placed in sublimed dust!

(For such are clothes and beauty, which, though gay,
Are, at the best, but of sublimed clay)
Let then the world thy calling disrespect;
But go thou on, and pity their neglect.
What function is so noble, as to be
Ambassador to God and Destiny?

To open life, to give kingdoms to more

Than kings give dignities; to keep Heav'n's door?
Mary's prerogative was to bear Christ, so
'Tis preacher's to convey him; for they do,
As angels out of clouds, from pulpits speak;
And bless the poor beneath, the lame, the weak.
If then th' astronomers, whereas they spy
A new-found star, their optics magnify;
How brave are those, who with their engine can
Bring man to Heav'n, and Heav'n again to man?
These are thy titles and pre-eminences,

In whom must meet God's graces, men's offences;
And so the Heav'ns, which beget all things here,
And th' Earth, our mother, which these things doth
Both these in thee are in thy calling knit, [bear,
And make thee now a bless'd hermaphrodite.

A HYMN TO CHRIST,

AT THE AUTHOR'S LAST GOING INTO GERMANY,

In what torn ship soever I embark,
That ship shall be my emblem of thy ark;
What sea soever swallow me, that flood
Shall be to me an emblem of thy blood.
Though thou with clouds of anger do disguise
Thy face, yet through that mask I know those eyes,
Which, though they turn away sometimes,
They never will despise.

I sacrifice this island unto thee,

And all, whom I love here, and who love me;
When I have put this flood 'twixt them and me,
Put thou thy blood betwixt my sins and thee,
As the tree's sap doth seek the root below
In winter, in my winter now I go,

Where noné but thee, th' eternal root
Of true love, I may know.

Nor thou, nor thy religion, dost control
The amorousness of an harmonious soul;

But thou would'st have that love thyself: as thou
Art jealous, Lord, so I am jealous now.
Thou lov'st not, till from loving more thou free
My soul: who ever gives, takes liberty:
Oh, if thou car'st not whom I love,
Alas, thou lov'st not me.

Seal then this bill of my divorce to all,

On whom those fainter beams of love did fall;
Marry those loves, which in youth scatter'd be
On face, wit, hopes (false mistresses) to thee.
Churches are best for prayer, that have least light;
To see God only, I go out of sight:
And, to 'scape stormy days, I choose
An everlasting night.

ON THE SACRAMENT. He was the word that spake it, He took the bread and brake it; And what that word did make it, I do believe and take it1.

THE

LAMENTATIONS OF JEREMY,

FOR THE MOST PART ACCORDING TO TREMELLIUS.

CHAPTER I.

1. How sits this city, late most populous, Thus solitary, and like a widow thus? Amplest of nations, queen of provinces She was, who now thus tributary is,

2. Still in the night she weeps, and her tears fall
Down by her cheeks along, and none of all
Her lovers comfort her; perfidiously
Her friends have dealt, and now are enemy.

3. Unto great bondage and afflictious
Juda is captive led; those nations,
With whom she dwells, no place of rest afford;
In straits she meets her persecutor's sword.

4. Empty are th' gates of Sion, and her ways Mourn, because none come to her solemn days; Her priests do groan, her maids are comfortless; And she 's unto herself a bitterness.

5. Her foes are grown her head, and live at peace;
Because, when her transgressions did increase,
The Lord struck her with sadness: th' enemy
Doth drive her children to captivity.

6. From Sion's daughter is all beauty gone;
Like harts, which seek for pasture, and find none,
Her princes are: and now before the foe,
Which still pursues them, without strength they go.

7. Now in their days of tears, Jerusalem
(Her men slain by the foe, none succouring them)
Remembers what of old sh' esteemed most,
Whilst her foes laugh at her, for which she hath lost.

8. Jerusalem hath sinn'd, therefore is she
Remov'd, as women in uncleanness be:
Who honour'd, scorn her; for her foulness they
Have seen; herself doth groan, and turn away.

9. Her foulness in her skirts was seen, yet she
Remember'd not her end; miraculously
Therefore she fell, noue comforting: behold,
O Lord, my affliction, for the foe grows bold.

10. Upon all things, where her delight hath been,
The foe hath stretch'd his hand; for she hath seen
Heathen, whom thou command'st should not do so,
Into her holy sanctuary go.

These lines are in all the editions of Donne's works, but have been usually attributed to queen Elizabeth. C.

hand,

To comfort her; it is the Lord's command,

That Jacob's foes girt him: Jerusalem

Is as an unclean woman amongst them.

18. But yet the Lord is just, and righteous still,

I have rebell'd against his holy will;

O hear, all people, and my sorrow see,
My maids, my young men in captivity.

19. I called for my lovers then, but they
Deceiv'd me, and my priests and elders lay
Dead in the city; for they sought for meat,
Which should refresh their souls, and none could get.

20. Because I am in straits, Jehovah, see
My heart o'erturn'd, my bowels muddy be;
Because I have rebell'd so much, as fast
The sword without, as death within doth waste.

21, Of all, which here I mourn, none comforts me;
My foes have heard my grief, and glad they be,
That thou hast done it; but thy promis'd day
Will come, when, as I suffer, so shall they.

22. Let all their wickedness appear to thee,
Do unto them, as thou hast done to me
For all my sins: the sighs, which I have had,
Are very many, and my heart is sad.

CHAPTER II.

1. How over Sion's daughter hath God hung
His wrath's thick cloud! and from Heaven hath flung
To Earth the beauty of Israel, and hath
Forgot his foot-stool in the day of wrath!

And level Sion's walls unto the ground;

He draws not back his hand, which doth o'erturn The wall and rampart, which together mourn.

9. The gates are sunk into the ground, and he Hath broke the bar; their kings and princes be Amongst the heathen, without law, nor there Unto the prophets doth the Lord appear.

10. There Sion's elders on the ground are plac'd, And silence keep; dust on their heads they cast, In sackcloth have they girt themselves, and low The virgins towards ground their heads do throw.

11. My bowels are grown muddy, and mine eyes
Are faint with weeping: and my liver lies
Pour'd out upon the ground, for misery,
That sucking children in the streets do die.

12. When they had cry'd unto their mothers, "Where.

Shall we have bread and drink?" they fainted there;
And in the street like wounded persons lay,
Till 'twixt their mothers' breasts they went away.

13. Daughter Jerusalem, oh! what may be A witness, or comparison for thee?

Sion, to ease thee, what shall I name like thee?
Thy breach is like the sea; what help can be?

14. For thee vain foolish things thy prophets sought,
Thee thine iniquities they have not taught,
Which might disturn thy bondage: but for thee
False burthens and false causes they would see.

15. The passengers do clap their hands, and hiss,
And wag their head at thee, and say, “Is this
That city, which so many men did call
Joy of the Earth, and perfectest of all ?"

16. Thy foes do gape upon thee, and they hiss,
And gnash their teeth, and say, "Devour we this;
For this is certainly the day, which we
Expected, and which now we find and see."

17. The Lord hath done that, which he purposed, Fulfill'd his word, of old determined;

He hath thrown down, and not spar'd, and thy foe Made glad above thee, and advanc'd him so.

18. But now their hearts unto the Lord do call,
Therefore, O walls of Sion, let tears fall
Down like a river day and night; take thee
No rest, but let thine eye incessant be.

19. Arise, cry in the night, pour out thy sins, Thy heart, like water, when the watch begins; Lift up thy hands to God, lest children die, Which, faint for hunger, in the streets do lie.

20. Behold, O Lord, consider unto whom
Thou hast done this; what shall the women come
To eat their children of a span? shall thy
Prophet and priest be slain in sanctuary?

21. On ground in streets the young and old do lie,
My virgins and young men by sword do die;
Them in the day of thy wrath thou hast slain,
Nothing did thee from killing them contain.

22. As to a solemn feast, all, whom I fear'd,
Thou call'st about me: when thy wrath appear'd,
None did remain or 'scape; for those, which I
Brought up, did perish by mine enemy.

CHAPTER III.

1. I AM the man which have affliction seen,
Under the rod of God's wrath having been.
2. He hath led me to darkness, not to light:
3. And against me all day his hand doth fight.

4. He hath broke my bones, worn out my flesh and
5. Built up against me; and hath girt me in [skin;
With hemloc, and with labour; 6. and set me
In dark, as they who dead for ever be.

7. He hath hedg'd me, lest I 'scape, and added more To my steel fetters, heavier than before. [hath 8. When I cry out, he outshuts my prayer; 9. and Stopp'd with hewn stone my way, and turn'd my path.

10. And like a lion hid in secresy,

Or bear, which lies in wait, he was to me. 11. He stops my way, tears me, made desolate; 12. And he makes me the mark he shooteth at.

13. He made the children of his quiver pass Into my reins. 14. I with my people was All the day long, a song and mockery. 15. He hath fill'd me with bitterness, and he

Hath made me drunk with wormwood. 16. He hath burst

My teeth with stones, and covered me with dust. 17. And thus my soul far off from peace was set, And my prosperity I did forget,