| 171 | 172 | 173 | 174 | 175 |
| 1 | 198 | 395 | 593 | 790 |
|
1
1
1
1
1
1
1
1 Her branches on the western side
Down to the Sea she sent,
And upward to that river wide
Her other branches went.
2 Why hast thou laid her Hedges low
And brok'n down her Fence,
50
That all may pluck her, as they go,
With rudest violence?
3 The tusked Boar out of the wood
Up turns it by the roots,
Wild Beasts there brouze, and make their food
Her Grapes and tender Shoots.
4 Return now, God of Hosts, look down
From Heav'n, thy Seat divine,
Behold us, but without a frown,
And visit this thy Vine.
60
5 Visit this Vine, which thy right hand
Hath set, and planted long,
And the young branch, that for thy self
Thou hast made firm and strong.
6 But now it is consum'd with fire,
And cut with Axes down,
They perish at thy dreadfull ire,
At thy rebuke and frown.
7 Upon the man of thy right hand
Let thy good hand be laid,
70
173
Page
Quick Jump
|