O God, why has thou thus Repulst, and scattred us? Shall now thy wrath no lymmitts hold? But ever smoke and burne? Till it to Asshes turne The chosen folk of the deare fold? Ah! Think with milder thought On them whom thou hast brought, And purchased from endlesse daies: Thinck of thy birthright lott, Of Sion, on whose plot, Thy sacred house supported staies. Come, Lord, O come with speed This sacrilegious seed Roote quickly out, and hedlong cast: All that thy holy place Did late adorne and grace, Their hatefull hands have quite defast. Their beastly trumpets rore, Where heav’nly notes before In praises of the might did flow: Within thy temples they Their ensigns eft display The ensigns, which their conquest show. As men with axe on arme To some thick forrest swarme, To lopp the trees which stately stand: They to thy temple flock, And spoiling, cutt and knock The curious workes of carving hand. Thy most, most holy seate The greedy flames do eate, And have such ruthless ruyns wrought, That all thy house is raste, So raste, and so defast, That of that all remayneth nought.
About the headline (FAQ)
From The Psalms of The Countess of Pembroke (1590s): from John Rathmell’s 1963 edition.
- by Bible or other Sacred Texts [an adaptation] [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
- [ None yet in the database ]
Settings in other languages, adaptations, or excerpts:
- Also set in French (Français), a translation by Bible or other Sacred Texts [an adaptation] ENG ; composed by Jean de Maletty.
Researcher for this text: David Wyatt
This text was added to the website: 2017-02-17
Line count: 36
Word count: 193