Classic Poem

What cause have we, asham'd to stand
when we doe seriously
Veiw, what sin has, brought on our land
within our memory.

Wee were a terrour far, and neer
unto the nations round
Thou maydest us, to them a fear
when they did hear our sound

But now we ar, become a scorne
And byword, round about
With dirt, thou hast defil'd our horn
and seemst to cast us out

Thousands in one yeer swept a way
By, the plauge att thy command
Thy dreadfull wrath, thou didst display
by emptiing our land

Thy Iudgments, they have been abroad
when on the sea, we fought
Within we are, full of discord
which makes our foes to shout

A dreadfull, conflagration
has laid our houses wast
Our statly metripolitan
By fire, was quite defac'd

Yet have we, not return'd to thee
but still we are the same
Prodigiously wicked, are wee
dishonoring of thy name

The glory of england is thin
her beauty, waxen leane
And yet we act, as if by sin
t'undoe our selfs, wee meane

Great Judgments, o're our heads impend
to think this, we have ground
The quarell is not att an end
whilst sin, doth thus abound

We dayly dare, omnipotence
and stand it out with god
As if we meant by violence
to pull on us, his rod

Thou standest now on the threshold
as if thou wouldst be gone
And yet how stupid, and how cold
are we, like to a stone

Remember Lord thy covenant
thy glory, and thy name.
And let it not be made, the taunt
Of, the wicked, and profane

Take not away thy gospell Lord
though thou aflict us sore
Give us thy presence, with thy word
till time shall be no more

A gospell, in its purity
when we cease, to live here
We beg that thou, wilt not deny
unto our Children dear.