Zion in distress, or, The sad and lamentable complaint of Zion and her children…

ZIONS SONS. Mourn, mourn, O Heavens; and thou, O Earth bewail; And weep, ye Saints, until your Spirits fail: For she that is the Glory of the Earth, Most High and Mighty, and of precious Birth, Lies sadly weltering almost in despair; Her grievous sorrows no Tongue can declare. And now, my Brethren, come, I pray, come hither; And in Gods fear let us confer together: Doth not Grief seize on you, my Brethren dear? Doth not your hearts dissolve into a tear? Doth not your eyes like to a fountain run? Doth not all Joy now into Mourning turn? Doth not your sleep also from you depart? Are you not pierced to the very heart? Are you, or are you not in bitterness, Because of Zion, and her sore distress? How can our hearts delight in things below? How can we sleep in peace as others do? ⟨p. 16⟩How can we comfort have, or comfort find: Or how can we the Worlds concernments mind? How can we eat or drink with Hearts content, And not with Grief poor Zion's state lament? Because that our dear Mother is a crying; She sighs and sobs, as if she were a dying: She languisheth, and is in bitter pain, And in this state all do her much disdain: She is reproached by every drunken Sot, Being cast out, like to a broken Pot: She is despised and trod upon like Dung, The Drunkard of her makes his daily Song. But I will turn, and will expostulate The case with Zion, touching her estate; Why art thou sometimes up, then down again? Sometimes at ease, sometimes in bitter pain: They're doubtless throes; cheer up, and do not fear; Deliverance, dear Soul, is very near: And though thy throes and pains should now give over▪ Don't fear, thou shalt not die; One or two more Shall bring that Child into the World, which thou Hast travailed with in bitter pangs till now. O cry to God, thy Midwife he will be; For I am sure he will deliver thee: He is the God that brings unto the Birth, He also 'tis that gives strength to bring forth. O stay thy self upon thy blessed Lord, His gracious strength he will to thee afford: Upon his Promises do thou depend, And thou shalt see deliverance at the end.

ZIONS SONS. Mourn, mourn, O Heav'ns; and thou, O Earth bewail; And weep, ye Saints, until your Spirits fail: For she that is the Glory of the Earth, Most High and Mighty, and of precious Birth, Lies sadly weltring almost in despair; Her grievous sorrows no Tongue can declare. And now, my Brethren, come, I pray, come hither; And in Gods fear let us confer together: Doth not G•ief seiz on you, my Brethren dear? Doth not your hearts dissolve into a tear? Doth not your eyes like to a fountain run? Doth not all Joy now into Mourning turn? Doth not your sleep also from you depart? Are you not peirced to the very heart? Are you, or are you not in bitterness, Because of Zion, and her sore distress? How can our hearts delight in things below? How can we sleep in peace as others do?