And by and by the flaming Sky
shall drop like molten Lead
About their ears, t’ increase their fears,
and aggravate their dread.
To Angel’s good that ever stood
in their integrity,
Should they betake themselves, and make
their suit incessantly?
They’ve neither skill, nor do they will
to work them any ease;
They will not mourn to see them burn,
nor beg for their release.
To wicked men, their bretheren
in sin and wickedness,
Should they make moan? Their case is one;
they’re in the same distress.
Ah! cold comfort and mean support,
from such like Comforters!
Ah! little joy of Company,
Such shall increase their heart’s disease,
and add unto their woe,
Because that they brought to decay
themselves and many more.
Unto the Saints with sad complaints
should they themselves apply?
They’re not dejected nor aught affected
with all their misery.
Friends stand aloof and make no proof
what Prayers or Tears can do;
Your Godly friends are now more friends
to Christ than unto you.
Where tender love men’s hearts did move
unto a sympathy,
And bearing part of others’ smart
in their anxiety,
Now such compassion is out of fashion,
and wholly laid aside;
No friends so near, but Saints to hear
their Sentence can abide.