10 Upon all things where her delight hath beene,
The foe hath stretch'd his hand, for shee hath seene
Heathen, whom thou command'st, should not doe so,
40Into her holy Sanctuary goe.
11 And all her people groane, and seeke for bread;
And they have given, only to be fed,
All precious things, wherein their pleasure lay:
How cheape I'am growne, O Lord, behold, and weigh.
4512 All this concernes not you, who passe by mee,
O see, and marke if any sorrow bee