LO! I recall the siege which fell on me: Within this month He struck me; He destroyed With three blows;—cut me down and left me void;— Now He hath made me weary utterly. He silenced on the eighth day all my throng; (Have I not for three things a fast proclaimed?) The King bade; write the law in Greek; they maimed, They ploughed on me; they made their furrows long. Upon the ninth day—wrath, disgrace, and shame! Stripped off was my fair robe in honor worn; For he who gave sweet words was surely torn: Ezra the scribe—yea, he of blessed name. The tenth day; then the seer was bidden: "Yea Write thee within the book of vision; write This for remembrance; now shalt thou indite For them despised and crushed this self-same day." Counting the months, within the tenth the woe And wail he wakened; but the sorrow's smart— Its onward way was branded on my heart When one came saying: "The city is struck low." For these things I have scattered o'er me dust; O that a shaft had pierced mine heart that day! For such woe I would dig my grave;—but nay, I wrought rebelliously: the Lord is just. I call Thee, Thou Who hast repentance nigh For mine affliction; lo! my praying heed; Hear my beseeching; my salvation speed; Hide Thee not at my sighing, at my cry. O moon of Tebeth! exceeding is my sum Of pain therein, when His face changed for me. Yet, though I sinned, His goodness I shall see, Who saith: "Ye waves, but so far shall ye come." |