Zion in Distress, Poem 1 · Part 7 – Part 8
Sion.
O That's a Cordial! But my grief does borrow
Some freſh Objections to renew my ſorrow:
For ſome that wiſh me well, do yet, in ſpite
Of Goſpel-Beamings, and the cleareſt Light,
Retain ſome Romiſh Fragments, which diſpleaſes
The meek, the humble, ſelf-denying JESVS.
His way of Worſhip, Scripture does expreſs;
No Uſeleſs Pomp, no Artificial Dreſs
Becomes Religion: Chaſtity abhors
The Garb, the Painting, and the Gate of Whores.
Why ſhould my Friends a Virgin-Church pollute
With any Relicks of that Proſtitute?
Why Gawdy Things, that never had a Name
In ſacred Records, our Profeſſion ſhame?
Why are our Rites enamel'd with their Gloſs?
Why muſt our Gold be mingled with their Droſs?
Why further Reformation is ſuppreſt,
T' uphold a Grandeur that's Vſurp'd at beſt?
Why Doors and Windows muſt be ſhunt up quite,
To ſtop the Radiance of a further Light?
And why muſt ſuch as diſallow thoſe Tricks,
Be branded as the vileſt Schiſmaticks?
But that's not all: My Children more refin'd
From thoſe Corruptions, do afflict my mind.
O depths of Sorrow that diſturb my Reſt!
O racking Grief that rends my woful Breſt!
Some are ſo Carnal, ſome ſo ſwiftly hurl'd
Into the Labrinths of th'inticing World,
That in the hurries of that crouded Road,
They find ſmall leaſure to attend their God;
Preferring filthy Gain, and ill-got Wealth,
Before the means of their Eternal Health.
Some that in words respect me, I behold
In that sad poſture, betwixt hot and cold.
Sometimes they ſeem for sanctity; ſometimes
Slide with the current of prevailing Crimes:
Their Pulſes beat with an alternate motion;
Now for the World, then for ſome faint Devotion.
Some that unto my Tabernacles were
Admitted, left me for Egyptian Fare:
Theſe not content with my Celeſtial Diet,
Do run with others to exceſs of Riot.
Some to be Popular, away would give
Thoſe Goſpel-Dutys that are poſitive:
From ſuch as theſe, my Sorrows do increaſe,
That Sell Gods Order for a ſeeming Peace;
Such Open Gaps that do pervert the Laws
Of my just Right, and well-defended Cauſe.
But O! how many Eaſy Chriſtians take
Their Reſt in Forms, and no diſtinction make
'Twixt Shell and Kernel, that rely on Duty
As if it were the ſole adorning Beauty?
Such give the Lord the more invalid part,
Preſent their Body, but deny their Heart.
Are not ſome Paſtors careleſs to provide
A Word in Seaſon, for the Flocks they guide?
Some are too backward to ſupply the Need
Of painful Lab'rers, that their Souls do feed:
Diſcourag'd by Cloſe-fiſted Avarice,
Deſpis'd, neglected, through this Helliſh Vice.
My Workmen languiſh, and have cauſe of moan,
To ſee their Toyl ſo ineffectual grown.
The moſt Pathetick Preaching ſcarce can move
Some Rocky Hearers to the Grace of Love.
Muſt Hag-fac'd Envy, and foul-tongu'd Detraction,
Invenom'd Malice, and unfaithful Action,
Ill-grounded Slander, and uncertain Rumors,
Backbitings, Quarrels, and the worſt of Humours
Be practic'd thus? Ah grief of griefs to fee
Profeſſing People act iniquity
To ſuch a Pitch!—Some Husbands and ſome Wives
Do lead ſuch ſhameful, ſuch unſavoury Lives;
Whilſt mutually at ſtrife, they do impeach
That Name that ſhould be very dear to each:
Such Pride, ſuch ſurly, dogged reprehenſion
For every Toy, ſuch ſharpneſs and contention,
As does diſgrace Religion, and does lay
Blocks and Offences in a Converts Way.
Ah! why can't Saints in Familys eſchew
That which meer Heathens are aſham'd to do?
Their Houſes are the Scene of Civil Wars,
Of Brawls, of Diſcord, and Domeſtick Jars.
In grace or comfort can they find increaſe,
Or Heavenly Bleſſings, who are void of Peace?
How oft do Parents Ill Example draw
Their tender Children to infringe the Law
And Sanctions of the Everlaſting God:
Do they not ſpoil them when they ſpare the Rod?
To ſtrict Extremes ſome Parents do adhere,
Check not at all, or elſe are too ſevere:
On Back and Belly they beſtow much Coſt,
But care not if their Precious Souls be loſt:
Are they not guilty of Prodigious Folly
That teach them Courtſhip, & neglect what's Holy?
A Child untutor'd, (a meer lump of Sin,)
May juſtly curſe its cauſe of having been.
Such as inſtruct, do doubly them beget,
By timely Leſſons lab'ring to defeat
Their growth in Ill; ſuch mold their better part
By wiſe prevention of a Canker'd heart.
O! then's the time to give 'em Form and Mold
For Trees admit no bending that are Old.
Who timely ſow ſuch ſeed they would have grow,
Will ſurely reap according as they ſow.
Some like the Ape, that does by hugging kill,
Prompt on a Child to tip his tongue with ill
In his firſt prattle: But it is leſs pain
To form good Habits, then reform the vain.
On th' other hand, how many Children do
Prove vain, rebellious, diſobedient to
Their godly Parents? Slight their careful teaching
Make Games of Prayer, and a mock of Preaching.
Contempt of Parents, of what kind ſo e'er,
Contracts a bitter Curſe, which every where
Will find them out. But O my aking Soul
Beats ſad Alarms of Grief! I muſt condole
The diſmal Fate of Youth! Alas how few
The ways of God and Holineſs purſue!
But very eager to obey the Devil,
In quickly learning every reigning Evil.
Here you may ſee, if you ſurvey the Nation,
Our Youth grown old in vile abomination:
Such early Graduates in the Helliſh Science,
Setting both Heaven and Hell at loud defiance.
Let Grace and Vertue grovel in the Duſt,
Their Youth and Strength they'l ſacrifice to Luſt.
That ſacred Precept in the Word of Truth,
To mind their Maker in the Days of Youth,
They ſcorn to head: Ah fools! that would begin
Converſion, when they can no longer ſin.
But know, prepoſterous Sots, the Day of Doom
That dreadful Audit of Accounts) will come.
How dare you run this vile Career, till Death,
Like a Grim Serjeant, comes t'arreſt your breath,
When Tongues do faulter, & your Eyeſtrings crack
When ſtings of Horror do your Conſcience rack,
When Hells Abyſs sets ope its ſpacious Gate,
And Troops of Devils round about you wait,
When nought but Horrour and Confuſion ſeizes,
Upon your Sences, when thoſe foul Diſeaſes
You got by vile Debauches, have at length
Deſtroy'd your Perſon, and ſubdu'd your Strength,
Is this a Seaſon to Deteſt your Lewdneſs,
To talk of Vertue, or pretend to Goodneſs?
Egregious Fools! how dare you to delay
Your Souls Affair to that uncertain Day!
O! Can you truſt ſo grand a Work to that
Moment of Anguiſh? when you know not what
(When Sonnd) your end will be, nor yet how ſoon,
Though brisk at Morning, you may die ere Noon!
And if unchang'd, your certain Doom will be
To lye in Hell to all Eternity.
Sion's Children.
O Diſmal State! O miſerable Caſe!
Enough to daunt all that are void of Grace!
And cruſh the bragging of the ſtouteſt mind!
But are there ſtill more grievances behind?