The lamentable Burning of the Citty
of Corke (in the Province of Munster in Ireland) by Lightning:
which happened the Last of May, 1622. After the prodigious Battell of the Stares,
which Fought most strangely over and neere that Citty, the 12. and 14. of
May. 1621. To the tune of Fortune my foe.
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WHo please to heare such newes as are most true,
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Such newes to make a Christians hart to rue:
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Such Newes as may make stoutest hearts to shake,
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And Sinners justly to tremble and to quake.
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Reade this, and they shall have just cause to feare,
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Gods heavy hand on sinne reported heere:
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Twas lately heard that Birds all of a feather,
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Did strangely meete, and strangely fought together.
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At Corke in Ireland, where with might and maine,
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They fought together till store of them were slaine:
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Their Fight began and ended with such hate,
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Some strange event it did Prognosticate.
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What was presag'd fell out this last of May,
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Which was at Corke a[?]y dismall day:
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This last of May the Morning was most faire,
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Towards xii. a clocke, Cloudes gathered in the Ayre.
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Which Cloudes obscur'd, and darkened so the light,
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That Midday almost was as darke as Night:
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Whilest at such darknes Cittizens did wonder,
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Forthwith they heard a dreadfull clap of Thunder.
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And with the Thunder, presently there came
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Such Lightning forth the Clouds did seeme to flame:
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But heere observe, this Citty towards the East,
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Stands high, but falleth lowe towards the West.
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As at the East the Stares began their Fight,
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And there fell downe the Birds first, kild outright:
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So at the East began the Fire to flame,
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Those at the West did soone beholde the same.
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And towards the East, to see and helpe they ranne,
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Before halfe way, a wofull Cry began:
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Behinde them, seeing the West end was on Fire,
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They so recalld, began for to retire.
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As from the East, towards the West they turne,
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They saw the middest of the Citty burne:
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So at an instant all was on a flame,
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There was no meanes to helpe to quench the same.
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Although great store of Water was in place,
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Water could not helpe there in such a case:
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For why that Fire which from the Skyes doth fall,
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Is not with Water to be quencht at all.
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Now were the Cittizens overwhelm'd with woe,
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For no man knew, which way to runne or goe:
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For in the Citty no man could abide,
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The Fire raged so on every side.
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Some were enclosed with Fire, they for their safety
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Fled to the Churches, which were in the Citty:
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Some to an Iland, and the Fields hard by,
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To save their lives, with grieved hearts did flye.
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Who was not then tormented in his minde,
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To flye and leave all that he had behinde?
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When that the Husband, for to save his life,
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Might not make stay to bring away his Wife,
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Or save his Children: in like case the Mother,
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Fled from her Children, Sister fled from Brother:
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All were amazed in this wofull Day,
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Not knowing where to flye nor where to stay:
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Nor where to seeke or after Friends enquire,
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They knew not who was sav'd, who burnt by Fire:
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A dolefull thing it was men might not tarry,
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Out of the flames, their dearest Friends to carry.
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The Second part. To the same tune.
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O That this wofull chance of Corke might rent,
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The hearts of men and cause them to repent
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Their wicked lives for to escape the Rod,
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Which they have cause to feare, will fall from God.
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Corke to all Citties, may example bee,
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To know they are not from Gods Justice free:
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For being Sinners they may feare the like,
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As fell to Corke, God in his wrath will strike.
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But they will say, God's mercifull, 'tis true,
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But in this case, let them give God his due:
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Let them not so unto his mercy trust,
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But let them know that God is also Just.
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God's mercifull to Sinners which repent,
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His Justice is towards lingring sinners bent:
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Who will take holde of mercy and of Grace,
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Let them repent whilest they have time and space.
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Repentance onely pacifies Gods Ire,
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Preserves from sodaine, and Eternall Fire:
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This word Repentance, is a wicked thing,
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To wicked Livers, 'tis a Serpents sting.
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Why should Repentance be so bitter, when
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Tis the onely salve to Cure sinfull men?
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And furthermore when as we are most sure,
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That dye we must we cannot long endure.
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When we are sure, we from this world must goe,
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But by what kinde of Death, we doe not know:
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No more then Corke did when that God did powre
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The Fire upon them in a dreadfull houre.
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Why should not we be well provided then,
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Against a certaine Death, but know not when:
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Nor by what kinde of death, Death will us take,
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Then let Repentance our attonement make.
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If men Repentance in this life doe stay,
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Let them consider of the Judgement day:
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When God to Sinners, shall say in his Ire:
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Goe hence yee Cursed to Eternall Fire.
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But who in Life did faithfully Repent,
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When they shall come to appeare at that Judgement
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The Judge will say: Goe Children of all Blisse,
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Enter the Kingdome, for you prepared is.
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The God of Heaven graunt, that all Sinners take,
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That course which may them blessed creatures make,
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That come yee Blessed, with a joyfull eare,
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They from the Judge at that maine day may heare.
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FINIS.
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