Astonisht stand, my Soule; why dost not start
At this surprizing Sight shewn here below?
Oh! let the twitch made by my bouncing Heart
Gust from my breast this Enterjection, Oh!
A Sight so Horrid, sure its Mercies Wonder
Rocks rend not at't, nor Heavens split asunder.

Souls Charg'd with Sin, Discharge at God, beside
Firld up in Guilt, Wrapt in Sins Slough, and Slime.
Wills wed to Wickedness, Hearts Stonifide
Flinty Affections, Conscience Chalybdine
Flooding the World with Horrid Crimes, arise
Daring Almighty God Contemptuouswise.

Hence Vengeance rose with her fierce Troops in Buff,
Soul-piercing Plagues, Heart-Aching Griefs, and Groans,
Woes Pickled in Revenges Powdering Trough:
Pain fetching forth their Proofs out of the boanes.
Doth all in Flames of Fire surround them so
Which they can ne're o'recome, nor undergo.

In this sad Plight the richest Beauty Cleare
That th'bravest Flower, that bud was big with, wore,
Did glorify those Cheeks, whose Vissage were
Marr'd more than any mans, and Form spoild more.
Oh! Beauty beautifull, not toucht with vice!
The fairest Flower in all Gods Paradise!