12 The Princes with their hands they hung; no grace
Nor honour gave they to the Elders face.
13 Unto the mill our yong men carried are,
And children fell under the wood they bare.
37514 Elders, the gates; youth did their songs forbeare,
15 Gone was our joy; our dancings, mournings were.
16 Now is the crowne falne from our head; and woe
Be unto us, because we'have sinned so.
17 For this our hearts do languish, and for this
380 Over our eyes a cloudy dimnesse is.