Eleazer's Lamentation over Jerusalem ; paraphrased out of Josephus . Stanza I. Alas , Jerusalem ! Alas ! where's now Thy pristine Glory , thy unmatch'd Renown To which the Heathen Monarchies did bow , Ah hapless , miserable Town ! Where's all thy Majesty , thy Beauty gone ? Thou once most noble celebrated place , The Joy , and the Delight of all the Earth ; Who gav'st to God-like Princes Birth , And bred up Heroes , an immortal Race . Where's now the vast Magnificence which made The Souls of Foreigners adore Thy wond'rous Brightness , which no more Shall shine , but lie in an eternal Shade . Oh Misery ! where's all her mighty State , Her splendid Train of numerous Kings , Her noble Edifices , noble Things , Which made her seem so eminently Great ? That barb'rous Princes in her Gates appear'd , And wealthy Presents , as their Tribute brought , To court her Friendship , for her Strength they fear'd , And all her wide Protection sought . But now , ah , now they laugh , and cry , See how her lofty Buildings lie , See how her flaming Turrets gild the Sky ! II . Where's all the Young , the Valiant , and the Gay That on her Festivals were us'd to play Harmonious Tunes , and beautify the Day ? The glittering Troops , which did from far Bring home the Trophies , and the Spoils of War . Whom all the Nations round with Terror view'd , Nor durst their God-like Valour try , Where-e'er they fought , they certainly subdu'd , And ev'ry Combat gain'd a Victory . Ah ! where's the House of the Eternal King , The beauteous Temple of the Lord of Hosts , To whose large Treasuries our Fleets did bring The Gold , and Jewels of remotest Coasts ; There had the Infinite Creator plac'd His terrible , amazing Name : And with his more peculiar Presence grac'd That Heav'nly Sanctum , where no Mortal came , The High-Priest only , he but once a Year , In that Divine Apartment might appear : So full of Glory , and so sacred then , But now corrupted with the Heaps of Slain , Which scatter'd round with Blood , defile the mighty Fane . III . Alas Jerusalem ! each spacious Street Was once so fill'd , the numerous Throng Were forc'd to justle as they pass'd along ; And Thousands did with Thousands meet , The Darling then of God , and Man's belov'd Retreat . In thee was the bright Throne of Justice fixt , Justice impartial , and with Fraud unmixt . She scorn'd the Beauties of fallacious Gold , Despising the most wealthy Bribes ; But did the sacred Balance hold With God-like Faith to all our happy Tribes . Thy well-built Streets , and ev'ry noble Square , Were once with polish'd Marble laid , And all thy lofty Bull-warks made With wond'rous Labour , and with artful Care . Thy pond'rous Gates , surprizing to behold , Were cover'd o'er with solid Gold ; Whose Splendour did so glorious appear , It ravish'd and amaz'd the Eye ; And Strangers passing , to themselves wou'd cry , What mighty Heaps of Wealth are here ! How thick the Bars of massy Silver lie ? O happy People ! and still happy be , Celestial City ! from Destruction free , May'st thou enjoy a long entire Prosperity . IV . But now , oh wretched , wretched place ! Thy Streets and Palaces are spread With heaps of Carcasses , and Mountains of the Dead , The bleeding Relicks of the Jewish Race : Each corner of the Town , no vacant space , But is with breathless Bodies fill'd ; Some by the Sword , and some by Famine kill'd . Natives and Strangers are together laid , Death's Arrows all at random flew Amongst the Crowd , and no distinction made But both the Coward and the Valiant slew . All in one dismal Ruin joyn'd , ( For Swords and Pestilence are blind ; ) The fair , the good , the brave , no Mercy find ; Those that from far , with joyful haste , Came to attend thy Festival , Of the same bitter Potion taste , And by the black destructive Poison fall , For the avenging Sentence pass'd on all . Oh ! see how the delight of human Eyes In horrid Desolation lies ! See how the burning Ruins flame , Nothing now left , but a sad empty Name ; And the triumphant Victor cries , This was the fam'd Jerusalem ! V. The most obdurate Creature must Be griev'd to see thy Palaces in Dust , Those antient Habitations of the Just : And could the Marble Rocks but know The Mis'ries of thy fatal overthrow , They'd strive to find some secret way unknown , Maugre the sensless Nature of the Stone , Their pity , and concern to show . For now , where lofty Buildings stood , Thy Sons corrupted Carasses are laid ; And all by this Destruction made One common Golgotha , one Field of Blood . See ! how those antient Men , which rul'd thy State , And made thee happy , made thee great , Who sat upon the awful Chair Of mighty Moses , in long Scarlet clad , The good to cherish , and chastise the bad ; Now sit in the corrupted Air , In silent Melancholy , and in sad Despair ? See ! how their murder'd Children round 'em lie ! Ah dismal Scene ! hark how they cry ! Woe ! woe ! one Beam of Mercy give , Good Heaven ! Alas , for we would live ! Be pitiful , and suffer us to die ! Thus they lament , thus beg for Ease , While in their feeble aged Arms they hold The Bodies of the Off-spring , stiff and cold , To guard 'em from the rav'nous Savages : Till their increasing Sorrows Death perswade ( For Death must sure with pity see The horrid Desolation he has made ) To put a period to their Misery . Thy wretched Daughters that survive , Are by the Heathen kept alive Only to gratify their Lust , And then be mixt with common Dust . Oh ! insupportable , stupendious Woe ! What shall we do ? Ah ! whither shall we go ? Down to the Grave , down to those happy Shades below ! Where all our brave Progenitors are blest With endless Triumphs , and eternal Rest . VI . But who without a Flood of Tears can see Thy mournful sad Catastrophe ? Who can behold thy glorious Temple lie In Ashes , and not be in pain to die ? Unhappy , dear Jerusalem ! thy Woes Have rais'd my Griefs to such a vast excess , Their mighty Weight no Mortal knows , Thought cannot comprehend , or Words express , Nor can they possibly , while I survive , be less . Good Heaven had been extreamly kind , If it had struck me dead , or struck me blind , Before this cursed time , this worst of Days . Is Death quite tir'd , are all his Arrows spent ? If not , why then so many dull Delays ? Quick , quick , let the obliging Dart be sent ! Nay , at me only , let ten Thousand fly , Who e'er shall wretchedly survive , that I May , happily , be sure to die . Yet still we live , live in excess of pain , Our Friends and Relatives are slain ; Nothing but Ruins round us see , Nothing but Desolation , Woe , and Misery ! Nay , while we thus with bleeding Hearts complain , Our Enemies without , prepare Their direful Engines to pursue the War ; And you must slavishly preserve your Breath , Or seek for Freedom in the Arms of Death . VII . Thus then resolve , nor tremble at the thought , Can Glory be too dearly bought ? Since the Almighty Wisdom has decreed That we , and all our Progeny , should bleed , It shall be after such a noble way , Succeeding Ages will with wonder view , What brave Despair compell'd us to : No , we will ne'er survive another Day . Bring then your Wives , your Children , all That's valuable , good , or dear , With ready Hands , and place 'em here ; They shall unite in one vast Funeral . I know your Courages are truly brave , And dare do any thing , but ill ; Who would an aged Father save , That he may live in Chains , and be a Slave , Or for remorsless Enemies to kill ? Let your bold Hands then give the fatal Blow ; For what at any other time would be The dire Effect of Rage and Cruelty , Is Mercy , Tenderness , and Pity now , This then perform'd , we'll to the Battle fly , And there amidst our slaughter'd Foes expire . If 'tis Revenge and Glory you desire , Now you may have them , if you dare but die ; Nay more , ev'n Freedom , and Eternity .