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Our Mothers are but Widows under Chains
Of Wedlock, and of all their Nuptial Gains,
None of the Mother but the Pangs remains.
Famifh'd with Want, we Wildşand Defarts tread,
And fainting, wander, for our needful Bread,
Where Wolves and Tygers round in Ambafh lie,
And Hosts with naked Swordsstand threatning by :
But keener Hunger, more a Beast of Prey,
More sharp than these, more ravenous than they,
[our bitter Way. Thro'Swords, and Wolves, and Tygers, breaks
V. The Fowls, and Beasts, and ev'ry Sylvan Kind, Down to the meaneft Insects Heav'n defignd, To be the Slaves of Man, were always free Of Waters, Woods, and common Air; but we, We Slaves, and Beasts, and more than Insects vile, That half-born wanton on the Banks of Nileg
Are glad to buy the Leavings they can spare
Of Waters, Woods, and the more common Air.
WithLoads of Chains our Foes pursue theirStroke,
And lug our aking Necks beneath their Yoke:
No Intermission gives the Weary Breath,
But endless Drudging drags us on to Death.
Our Cries ascend, and like a Trumpet blow,
All Egypt and Allyria hear our Woe:
Here, Nights we labour; there, whole Days we
[sweat, And barely earn the heartless Bread we eat.
Our old Fore-Fathers sinn'd, and are no more,
They pawnd their Children to defray their Score. Thrice happy they! by Death from Suffering freed, But all our Fathers Scourges lash their Seed. Vengeance, at which great Zion's Entrails shakes, Shoots thro' the inmost of the Soul, and rakes,
Where Pride furks deepeft, there we feel our Pain,
Our Slaves are Masters, and our Menials reign.
Whilst we unrescu'd send our Cries around,
To seek Relief, but no Relief is found.
Look on our Cheeks, and in each Furrow trace
Pale Famine, staring in the meagre Face.
The driving Tempest lets its Fury go,
pours upon us, in a Burst of Woe. The Signs of conscious Guilt our Brows impart, Black as our Sin, and harden'd as our Heart.
IX. From Zion's Mount the humble Matrons cry, With mournful Eccho's, Juda's Maids reply, . Beneath our haughty Foes destructive Hands Our Great Ones fall; not facred Age withstands Their impious Scoffs; our Youth, in bloomyPrime. Compell’d, fubmit to their indecent Crime,
[their Time. And Children whelm'd with Labour, fall before
Thus Prince and People, Infancy and Age,
Promiscuous Objects of an impious Rage,
But serve to haunt us wheresõe'er we go,
With horrid Scenes of Universal Woe.
Old Men no'more in Zion's Council. sit,
Nor young in Consorts of her Musick meet;
Such foolish Change fond Profligates devise,
The Old turn Singers, and the Young advise;
Perverted Order to Confusion rụns,
And all th’inverted Musick ends in Groans;
Zion, thy ancient Glories are decay'd,
Thy Lawrels wither, and thy Garlands fade;
Oh Sin! 'tis thou hast this Destruction made.
'Tis Zion then, ?tis Zion we deplore, ;
For her we grieve, for Zion is no more;
Our Eyes condole in Tears, and jointly smart,
With all the Anguilh of an aking Heart: Obs.
Who can' refizir, to see the woful Sight,
All Nations Envy, and the World's Delight,
Now grown a Defart, where the Foxes range,
And howling Wolves lament the dismal Change.
But the firm Footstool of thy Throne shall be
Th’unshaken. Base of fix'd Eternity.
Great God! by thee must we forsaken lie,
Or lost for ever, in Oblivion die.
Turn but to us, O Lord, we'll mend our Ways,
Ah! once restore the Joys of ancient Days ;
E'en tho' we seem the Outcasts of thy Care,
Refuse of Death, and Gleanings of the War,
Resume the Father, and let Sinners know,
Thy Mercy's greater than thy People's Woe.