Prison-pietie, or, Meditations divine and moral digested into poetical heads, on mixt and various subjects : whereunto is added a panegyrick to the right reverend, and most nobly descended, Henry Lord Bishop of London / by Samuel Speed ...

¶ Judeth's Song of Thanksgiving.

WIth Timbrels and with Cymbals raise A tune, wherewith our God to praise: Divinity, afford me Balm For sins, and skill to sing a Psalm Of praise to God did Heaven frame. Exalt him, call upon his Name: He breaks the Battels of the strong, And I that was the Camps among Of proud King Assur, even then When Israel seem'd a Prey to men, Then did the Lord direct my ways; I came from thence to sing his praise. Out of the Mountains from the North The Enemy came thundring forth. Their strength did threaten dismal ills, Their numbers covered the hills; He brag'd he would my Borders burn, And make Jerusalem an Urn; And kill my young men with the Sword, Dash Infants brains against the board, And make my Virgins prove their spoil; But God prevented hath their toyl: A Female hand By his command Hath conquer'd the Assyrian Land. Our mighty foe, he did not fight, Nor did the Sons of Titans smite: Neither did Giants force his care, But Beauty was his only snare. The daughter of Merari went With resolution to the tent Of Holofernes, drank him dead, And safely brought away his head. Thus, Lord, I ventur'd to commit Two sins, and sacrifice my Wit.

But with a chast and holy eye I shun'd ways of Carnality. My people, Lord, I knew should live, And thou art ready to forgive. I boldiy went, was not afraid, Because assured of thine aid; And to allure, I thought it good The Garments of my Widowhood To lay aside, and did attire My head, to raise my beauty higher. My Sandals ravished his eyes, And he became my beauties prize: For then to give his pride a check, I strook his Faulchin through his neck; Which act did make The Persians quake; The Medes stout hearts did likewise ake. Thus my exterminating arm, By inspiration, did alarm A mighey Host, and did destroy Their chief Commander, once their Joy. A new Song to the Lord I'll sing: Thou art a great and glorious King, Wonderful in strength and might, Invincible, the God of Fight: To praise thy Name all things accord, For thou mad'st all things with a word: In thee all Creatures shall rejoyce, Not any can resist thy voice. Mountains and Waters shall remove, Rocks melt as wax, if they not love. Shall man be subject to obey, And his Inseriours go astray? Do we not see, year after year, God's merciful to them that sear? All Sacrifice too little is For him that is the God of Bliss. The savour of the heart is sweet, And he that sears the Lord is great.

Wo to those Nations that arise Against my Kindred: they a prize Shall be to Worms; their flesh, as meat, The Ravens of the field shall eat, Whilst in Bethulia all my days I'll spend to celebrate his praise.