3 Unto great bondage, and afflictions Juda is captive led; Those nations 10 With whom shee dwells, no place of rest afford, In streights shee meets her Persecutors sword. 4 Emptie are the gates of Sion, and her waies Mourne, because none come to her solemne dayes. Her Priests doe groane, her maides are comfortlesse, 15 And shee's unto her selfe a bitternesse. 5 Her foes are growne her head, and live at Peace, Because when her transgressions did increase, The Lord strooke her with sadnesse: Th'enemie Doth drive her children to captivitie. 20 6 From Sions daughter is all beauty gone, Like Harts, which seeke for Pasture, and find none, Her Princes are, and now before the foe Which still pursues them, without strength they go. 7 Now in her daies of Teares, Jerusalem 25 (Her men slaine by the foe, none succouring them) Remembers what of old, shee esteemed most, Whilest her foes laugh at her, for what she hath lost. 8 Jerusalem hath sinn'd, therefore is shee Remov'd, as women in uncleannesse bee; 30 Who honor'd, scorne her, for her foulnesse they Have seene; her selfe doth groane, and turne away. 9 Her foulnesse in her skirts was seene, yet she Remembred not her end; Miraculously Therefore shee fell, none comforting: Behold 35 O Lord my affliction, for the Foe growes bold. 10 Upon all things where her delight hath beene, The foe hath stretch'd his hand, for shee hath seene Heathen, whom thou command'st, should not doe so, Into her holy Sanctuary goe. 40 11 And all her people groane, and seeke for bread; And they have given, only to be fed, All precious things, wherein their pleasure lay: How cheape I'am growne, O Lord, behold, and weigh. 12 All this concernes not you, who passe by mee, 45 O see, and marke if any sorrow bee Like to my sorrow, which Jehova hath Done to mee in the day of his fierce wrath? 13 That fire, which by himselfe is governed He hath cast from heaven on my bones, and spred 50 A net before my feet, and mee o'rthrowne, And made me languish all the day alone. 14 His hand hath of my sinnes framed a yoake Which wreath'd, and cast upon my neck, hath broke My strength. The Lord unto those enemies 55 Hath given mee, from whom I cannot rise. 15 He under foot hath troden in my sight My strong men; He did company invite To breake my young men; he the winepresse hath Trod upon Juda's daughter in his wrath. 60 16 For these things doe I weepe, mine eye, mine eye Casts water out; For he which should be nigh To comfort mee, is now departed farre; The foe prevailes, forlorne my children are.