Michael Wigglesworth (1631—1705)
CLXXXVI.
Divine Justice offended is,
and satisfaction claimeth;
God’s wrathful ire, kindled like fire.
against them fiercely flameth.
Their Judge severe doth quite cashier,
and all their pleas off take,
That ne’er a man, or dare, or can
a further answer make.
CLXXXVII.
Their mouths are shut, each man is put
to silence and to shame,
Nor have they aught within their thought,
Christ’s Justice for to blame.
The Judge is just, and plague them must,
nor will he Mercy shew,
For Mercy’s day is past away
to any of this Crew.
CLXXXVIII.
The Judge is strong, doers of wrong
cannot his pow’r withstand;
None can by flight run out of sight,
nor ’scape out of his hand.
Sad is their state; for Advocate,
to plead their cause, there’s none;
None to prevent their punishment,
or mis’ry to bemoan.
CLXXXIX.
O dismal day! whither shall they
for help and succor flee?
To God above with hopes to move
their greatest Enemy?
His wrath is great, whose burning heat
no floods of tears can slake;
His Word stands fast that they be cast
into the burning Lake.
CXC.
To Christ their Judge? He doth adjudge
them to the Pit of Sorrow;
Nor will he hear, or cry or tear,
nor respite them one morrow.
To Heav’n, alas! they cannot pass,
it is against them shut;
To enter there (O heavy cheer)
they out of hopes are put.
CXCI.
Unto their Treasures, or to their Pleasures?
All these have them forsaken;
Had they full coffers to make large offers,
their gold would not be taken.
Unto the place where whilom was
their birth and Education?
Lo! Christ begins for their great sins,
to fire the Earth’s Foundation;
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