Classic Poem

The Romaine Generall hearing of the same,
Tytus I meane, Vespasians famous Sonne,
So grieu'd thereat, that griefe did teares constraine,
Which downe his manly cheekes did streaming runne,
And holding vp to heauen his hands and eyes
To this effect, vnto the Lord he cries.

Thou mighty God, which guides this mortall round,
That all hearts secrets sees, and knowes my heart,
Witnesse thou canst, I came not to confound
This goodly Cittie: or to worke their smart:
I was not author of their bloudie iarrs,
But offred peace, when they imbraced wars.

These eighteene moneths, that I with warlike force
Besieged their Cittiy: (Lord thou knowest it well,)
My heart was full of mercy and remorce,
And they alwayes did stubbornely rebell:
Therefore good Lord, with their most hatefull rage,
And wondrous deeds do not my conscience charge.

My eyes doe see, my heart doth likewise pity
The great calamitie that they are in,
Yet Lord, except thou wilt yeeld me the Cittie,
I'le raise my power, and not behold more sinne:
For they with famine are become so wilde,
That hunger made a woman eate her childe.

When Noble Titus thus had made his moane,
All those, that from Ierusalem did fly,
He did receaue to mercy euery one,
And nourisht famisht men at poynt to dye:
But cruell Schimion that seditious Iewe,
And Proud Iehocanan , more mischiefe still did brew.

For albeit braue Tytus by his power,
And warlike Engines, brought vnto that place,
Had layde their strong walles flat vpon the flower,
And done their Citty wonderfull disgrace.
Yet stubbornly they did resist him still,
Such place they gaue to their seditious will.