Paraphrase of part of Lamentation 3

The Lord hath pity yet, as well as pow’r,

Had He not Mercy we were now no more.

Who can the wonders of his Truth repeat,

His Mercies still are new, and ever great.

The Lord is good, from him my Hope I’ll take.

For them that seek him he will not forsake.

‘Tis good to hope, and patiently attend,

That Quiet which the Lord at last may send,

‘‘Tis Patience far o’erpaid when God’s thy Friend.

‘Tis good at first to bear th’afflicting Rod,

For Youth, when prosperous, is vain and proud.

And what is best is still ordain’d by God.

Yet dismal Silence doth my Spirits wound,

When neither Peace nor Comfort can be found,

I bow my Humble head e’en to the ground,

To seek for Hope, and am so low become,

That e’en Reproaches are with Patience born,

And to th'insulting Foe I’m made a scorn.

But yet the Lord will not forsake me ever,

And tho’ a while his Mercies he doth sever,

At length he will my weary Soul deliver.

Unwillingly he punisheth, and slow,

But all his Works do his Compassions show,

His unexhausted Mercies ever flow.

All, who Injustice do, his Soul disdains,

Such as add weight to th’weary Captive’s Chains.

Anne Wharton 1659-1685

Arthur's Seat from National Library of Scotland

My Soul’s Sole Desire, by Hester Pulter

ARONS

Thou that didst on the 

chaos

 move,

Illustrious Spirit

 of life and love:

O, pity me,

And on my dark soul 

deign

 to shine;

Sin, Death, and Hell, will all resign

Their place to Thee.

Then shall my soul’s sad shades of night,

Be turned into 

meridian

 light,

Until my story

Begun below, goes on above

In joy, and life, being crowned by love

With endless glory.

Then those unknown celestial 

lays

,

Those hallelujahs to Thy praise,

I’ll ever sing;

And Thine immensity implore,

Thy majesty alone adore:

My God and King.

 A few more photos from walks near home:

Dryden Tower at top; and limekiln at Burdiehouse.

THE PROMISE TO ABRAHAM by Lucy Hutchinson

"It is in Isaac that I have decreed

A glorious name unto thy holy seed.

From him the godly nation shall descend,

His sons their eastern conquests shall extend,

And from a race of kings at last shall rise

That glorious Monarch whose great victories

Shall overthrow the powers of Death and Hell

And them from their usurped realm expel.

Then all mankind, whom they did captivate

Shall be his grace attain a blessed state.

Redeemed out of the dark unpleasant grave,

He shall their lives in sacred dwellings save.

But first a long and various tracts of time

Must be expired before thy nephews climb

To these last glories; yet here steadfast rest

Thy faith: the world shall be in Isaac blessed.

Then let not longer thy affections flow

In a divided channel, but bestow

It whole on him who is ordained thine heir,

And trust thy other child unto my care."

Around Lasswade Cemetery, Midlothian

including burial plaque for

William Drummond of Hawthornden

THE OLIVE PLANT by Lucy Hutchinson

Of all the plants that spring up from the ground,

With more or richer blessings none are crowned

Than is the olive, which still feels that light

That makes the altar and the temple bright,

Gives lustre to the face, poisons expels,

All rankling wounds, all venomous biting heals,

Produceth softness, smoothness, suppless, ease,

Fattening all food, allaying all disease.

Such are the blessed effects the gospel hath

On sinners wounded with the sense of wrath

By fiery serpents stung; it cures their smart,

Rough nature smooths, softens the obdurate heart,

Feeds the internal temple's lamps of grace

And sets sweet lustre on the exterior face.

But where these glorious great effects are wrought

The olive must in the dove's mouth be brought,

For fruitless is the gospel remedy

Except the Spirit do the cure apply.

Order and Disorder Canto 8: 167-184

The Woods near home; 

no olive trees

ON GOD AND MEN

Poor weak and silly mortals, who conceived 

Too foolishly of God while they believed 

That this divinity could be confined 

To any of those places they assigned, 

When even Heaven, which doth this globe embrace, 

Cannot hold Him who yet fills every place, 

Still present in the earth, the sea, the air, 

Not bounded, nor excluded anywhere, 

He in kings’ courts and great assemblies dwells, 

In private houses, and obscured cells. 

His presence over the whole world extends, 

And He to every single heart descends. 

Before designs to their ripe birth are brought, 

He’s at their first conception in the thought, 

And when the black deeds are brought forth, not night 

Nor darkness can obscure them from His sight. 

Yet though He all men’s inclinations knows, 

He often makes experiment of those 

Who boast His name, that when their weak holds fail, 

They, finding mortals’ best perfections frail, 

More humbly may to the Almighty bend 

And upon His, not their own strength depend. 

From Lucy Hutchinson Canto 15: 31-52

Loch Katrine

AFTER THE FLOOD

 At the Trossachs

Noah indeed did the old world survive,
Yet were his mates and he buried alive
In the decaying ark, not any sense
Appeared continuance there, or issue thence.
But faith through all the clouds saw God their guide
And on his wisdom for th’event relied,
Urging his promise did their frail hearts stay,
Assured they would be saved, though not which way,
At last, after five months were fully spent,
The Lord, pitying their tedious languishment,
Suddenly did their staggering hopes erect
And at their height the raging billows checked.
Whether immediately, as he before
Had framed, the sacred spirit did restore
The ruined world, or purposely, a wind
Whereof we can no cause in nature find,
Created as the means whereby he wrought
A miracle of mercy each way brought
Mankind relief, checked the exulting flood,
Which at his great rebuke now patient stood
And, guilty of its late exorbitance
Shrunk in as fast as it did first advance.

Lucy Hutchinson (1620-1681)

From 'Order and Disorder'.

TO THE SUPREME BEING

Near Callander

Thou Pow'r Omnipotent, supremely just;
Parent of Nature, never failing trust!
Incline thine ear, and graciously impart,
Thy holy dictates to direct my heart :
Enlighten'd by the rays of holy writ.
Implicit I obey, and meek submit;
From clear conviction, that thy wise decrees. 
Are ministers of good and future ease.
Thy providential care supplies our need ; 
What Pow'r but thee, could form, protect, and feed? 
Diffusive blessings, Virtue, Peace, and Health, 
Are far superior to superfluous wealth: 
Wealth, which vain mortals seek, to shun disgrace,
Ascribed to Poverty's neglected race.
Creator infinite! thy works proclaim,
In gratulations high, thy glorious Name!
The Sun's bright orb, and Moon's reflected light.
And Planetary system charm the sight:
The feather'd choir, in sweet harmonic lays.
Join in full chorus to resound thy praise:
Each Beast, and Insect, all that breathe or move.
Excite our wonder, and the Godhead prove.
The various Elements, and glowing Mine,
With Vegetation fair, are gifts divine.
The Seasons as they change, with grace appear.
And form the beauties of the solar year.
Eternal Source! these blessings I explore,
Thy love paternal, zealously adore;
Inspire my heart with gratitude sincere,
Perfect obedience, reverential fear!
Can Man, thy last and noblest work, refuse
The tribute of applause, thy gifts abuse?
Endow’d with pow’rs to fit him for the skies,
Tho’ mortal in his nature, formed to rise;
But yet deprav’d, degen’rate, weak, and vain,
Prone to transgress, and rectitude disdain;
He needs correction, and provokes thine ire,
He wishes to escape the vengeful fire;
Mistakes the means, nor sees th’important end,
Embraces foes, and spurns his faithful friend.
Fetter’d by Sin, of Innocence bereft,
What hope of pardon, could he then have left?
Yet Thou in mercy, and transcendent love,
Sent his Redeemer from the realms above.
Lord, what is Man, that Thou in pity gave,
Thy only Son, his forfeit soul to save!
All die in Adam, yet in Christ all live;
And for his sake, our flagrant sins forgive!
Accept his ransom, to redeem our loss,
His precepts we revere, and bear his cross;
In him alone we trust to plead our cause,
As vile transgressors of thy sacred laws!
Father of light! Jehovah! Holy King!
To whom th’angelic host enraptured sing,
To thy Omnipotence, let incense rise,
From earth thy footstool, to thy Throne the Skies!

Ann Murry (1750 to after 1818)

Lines from Aemilia Lanyer

 Lines 57-144 

The Heav'ns shall perish as a garment olde,
Or as a vesture by the maker chang'd,
And shall depart, as when a skrowle is rolde;
Yet thou from him shalt never be estrang'd,
When He shall come in glory, that was solde
For all our sinnes; we happily are chang'd,
Who for our faults put on his righteousnesse,
Although full oft his Lawes we doe transgresse.

Long mai'st thou joy in this almightie love,
Long may thy Soule be pleasing in his sight,
Long mai'st thou have true comforts from above,
Long mai'st thou set on him thy whole delight,
And patiently endure when he doth prove,
Knowing that He will surely do thee right:
Thy patience, faith, long suffring, and thy love,
He will reward with comforts from above.

With Majestie and Honour is He clad,
And deck'd with light, as with a garment faire;
He joyes the Meeke, and makes the Mightie sad,
Pulls downe the Prowd, and doth the Humble reare:
Who sees this Bridegroome, never can be sad;
None lives that can his wondrous workes declare:
Yea, looke how farre the Est is from the West,
So farre he sets our sinnes that have transgrest.

He rides upon the wings of all the windes,
And spreads the heav'ns with his all powrefull hand;
Oh! who can loose when the Almightie bindes?
Or in his angry presence dares to stand?
He searcheth out the secrets of all mindes;
All those that feare him, shall possesse the Land:
He is exceeding glorious to behold,
Antient of Times; so faire, and yet so old.

He of the watry Cloudes his Chariot frames,
And makes his blessed Angels powrefull Spirits,
His ministers are fearefull fiery flames,
Rewarding all according to their merits;
The Righteous for an heritage he claimes,
And registers the wrongs of humble spirits:
Hills melt like wax, in presence of the Lord,
So do all sinners, in his sight abhorr'd.

He in the waters laies his chamber beames,
And cloudes of darkenesse compasse him about,
Consuming fire shall goe before in streames,
And burne up all his en'mies round about:
Yet on these Judgements worldlings never dreames,
Nor of these daungers never stand in doubt:
While he shall rest within his holy Hill,
That lives and dies according to his Will.

But woe to them that double-hearted bee,
Who with their tongues the righteous Soules doe slay;
Bending their bowes to shoot at all they see,
With upright hearts their Maker to obay;
And secretly doe let their arrowes flee,
To wound true hearted people any way:
The Lord wil roote them out that speake prowd things,
Deceitfull tongues are but false Slanders wings.

Froward are the ungodly from their berth,
No sooner borne, but they doe goe astray;
The Lord will roote them out from off the earth,
And give them to their en'mies for a pray,
As venemous as Serpents is their breath,
With poysned lies to hurt in what they may
The Innocent: who as a Dove shall flie
Unto the Lord, that he his cause may trie

The righteous Lord doth righteousnesse allow,
His countenance will behold the thing that's just;
Unto the Meane he makes the Mightie bow,
And raiseth up the Poore out of the dust:
Yet makes no count to us, nor when, nor how,
But powres his grace on all, that puts their trust
In him: that never will their hopes betray,
Nor lets them perish that for mercie pray.

He shall within his Tabernacle dwell,
Whose life is uncorrupt before the Lord,
Who no untrueths of Innocents doth tell,
Nor wrongs his neighbour, nor in deed, nor word,
Nor in his pride with malice seems to swell,
Nor whets his tongue more sharper than a sword,
To wound the reputation of the Just;
Nor seekes to lay their glorie in the Dust.

That great Jehova King of heav'n and earth,
Will raine downe fire and brimstone from above,
Upon the wicked monsters in their berth
That storme and rage at those whom he doth love:
Snares, stormes, and tempests he will raine, and dearth,
Because he will himselfe almightie prove:
And this shall be their portion they shall drinke,
That thinkes the Lord is blind when he doth winke.


Aemilia Lanyer (1569-1645) was the first known woman writer in English who produced a substantial volume of poetry designed to be printed, and to attract patronage. Her most notable poem is: Salve Deus Rex Judæorum which is a lengthy contemplation of the sufferings and death of the Lord Jesus. It does look at things in some ways from a female perspective, and has been latched onto as proto-feminist to advance a feminist agenda. This is unfair to what is a deep contemplation. But it is marred by the apparent need for patronage; it is addressed to Margaret, Countess of Cumberland, and there are numerous other female patrons addressed, with the tone rather flattering. There is a Penguin book Renaissance Women Poets which contains most of Salve … How the omissions were chosen is hard to fathom. This is one omitted section.