Classic Poem

Part I.

A CCEPT my pray'rs, nor to the cry
Of mine afflictions stop Thine ear.
Lord, in the time of misery
And sad restraint serene appear;
The sighings of my spirit hear;
And when I call, with speed reply.

As smoke so fleets my soul away,
My marrow dried as hearths with heat,
My heart struck down like wither'd hay,
Through sorrow I forsake my meat,
While meagre cares my liver eat;
The clinging skin my bones display.

Like desert-haunting pelicans,
In cities not less desolate;
Like screech-owls, who with ominous strains
Disturb the night, and daylight hate;
A sparrow which hath lost his mate,
And on a pinnacle complains.

Reviling foes my honour blast,
And frantic men my ruin swear.
For bread, I roll'd-on ashes taste,
Each drop I drink mix'd with a tear.
For, Lord, O who Thy wrath can bear?
Thou raisest, and dost headlong cast.

My days short as the ev'ning shade,
As morning dew consume away;
As grass cut down with scythes I fade,
Or like a flow'r cropp'd yesterday.
But, Lord, Thou suffer'st no decay;
Thy promises shall never vade.

For Thou shalt from Thy rest arise,
(Since now th' appointed time draws near)
And look on Sion's miseries,
Her walls and batter'd buildings rear;
Whose ruins to Thy saints are dear,
For they her dust as sacred prize.

Part II.

Thy Name, then, shall the Gentiles praise,
All kings Thy honour celebrate;
For when the Lord shall Sion raise,
His glory shall ascend in state:
So prone to hear the desolate,
And succour them in all essays.

Unto eternal memory
Our histories shall this record;
And all that are created by
His pow'rful Hand shall fear the Lord;
Who doth such grace to His afford,
And on the earth looks from on high;

To hear the pensive captives groan,
The sons of Death by Him unbound;
His Name again in Sion known,
That Salem may His praise resound;
When in His service all the round
Of earth shall there be join'd in one.

Yet, Lord, amidst these hopes Thou hast
Consum'd my strength, abridg'd my years;
Before my noon of life be past,
Let me not die thus drown'd in tears.
Time wastes not Thee, which all out-wears;
Thy happy days for ever last.

Thou mad'st the earth, Thou didst display
The heav'ns in various motion roll'd;
These and their glories shall decay,
But Thou shalt Thy existence hold;
They like a garment shall grow old,
And in their changes pass away.

But Thou art still the same; before
The world, and after shalt remain.
You blessed souls who God adore,
With patient hope your harms sustain;
For you shall prosper in His reign,
And yours subsist for evermore.