Classic Poem

About that time with wonderous dilligence,
They rais'd a wall, in secret of the night,
Which then was found their Citties best defence,
For to withstand the conquering Romaines might:
Which once rac't the Citty needs must yeeld,
And Iewes giue place to Romaines sword and shield.

Renowned Tytus well perceiuing this,
To his best proued Captaines gaue a charge,
That new rais'd wall, the Iewes supposed blis,
Should scattered be, with breaches wide and large:
And herupon, the troopes togither met,
And to the walles their battering Engines set.

The feare of this made many a Iewish Lord,
That ioynde themselues with the seditious traine,
To steale away, and all with one accord,
At Tytus feete, sought mercie to obtaine:
Whose milde submission he accepted then,
And gaue them honour mong'st his noble men.

By this, the mellow wall was broke and scaled,
With fierce allarms the holy towne was entred,
Romaines tooke courage, but the Iewes harts failed,
Thousands lost their liues, which for honour ventred:
Schimion, Iehocanan , all did flie for feare,
Iewes mournd, and Romaines triumpht euery where.

The faire Temple, Gods holy habitation,
The worlds non parallel , the heathens wonder,
Their Citties glory, their ioyes preseruation,
To the Romaine power must now come vnder:
There many Isralites for liues defence,
Had lockt themselues, & would not come from thence.

The famous Citty being thus subdued,
The Romaines heads with glad-some baies wer crowned
For blesfull victory on their side ensued,
While on the Iewes the worlds Creator frowned:
The Captaines of the foule seditious rout,
To hide their heades did seeke odd corners out,

The Romaines resting in triumphant state,
Vnto the holy Temple turned their course,
And finding shut the siluer shining gate,
They fir'd it, retayning no remorce:
And when the fiers flame did sore abound,
The melting siluer streamd along the ground.

Their timber worke into pale ashes turning,
Downe dropt the goodly gate vpon the flower,
What time the wrathfull Romaines went in running,
Shouting and crying with a mighty power:
The glory of which place, their bright sight drew,
To take thereof a wondring greedy view.

Yet did that place but onely lead the way,
Vnto the holyest place, where once a yeare,
The high Priest went, vnto the Lord to pray,
The figure of whose glory did there appeare:
Sanctum Sanctorum so that place was called,
Which Tytus wondring mind the most appalled.

Which holy holyest place, when Tytus sawe,
Hauing a view but of the outward part,
So glorious was it that the sight did draw
A wounderous reuerence in his soule and heart:
And with all meeknesse on his Princely knees,
He honours there the Maiestie he sees.

This place was closed in with goulden gates,
So beautifull and super excellent,
That Princely Tytus and the Romaine states
Said sure this is Gods house omnipotent:
And therefore Tytus who did loue and feare it,
Commanded straightly, no man should come nere it.

And through his Camp he made a proclamation,
That whosoeuer did come neere the same,
He should be hanged vp, without compassion,
Without respect of birth, desert, or fame:
And more, a band of men he there ordained,
To keepe the Temple not to be prophaned.