The WANDERING JEW;
Or, The Shoemaker of Jerusalem.
Who lived when Our Saviour JESUS Christ was Crucified, and by him appointed to]
Wander till his Coming Again.
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WHEN as in fair Jerusalem,
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Our Saviour Christ did live;
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And for the sins of all the World
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His own dear life did give.
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The wicked Jews with scoffs and scorns,
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Did daily him molest;
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That never till he left his life,
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Our Saviour could have rest.
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Repent therefore, Old England,
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Repent while you have space,
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And do not like the wicked Jews,
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Despise God's proffer'd Grace.
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When they had crown'd his head with thorns,
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And scourg'd him with disgrace,
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In scornful sort they led him forth
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Unto his dying place.
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There thousand thousands in the street,
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Did see him pass along.
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Yet not one gentle heart was there,
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Who pitied his wrong ------Repent, etc.
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Both old and young reviled him,
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As thro' the streets he went;
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And nothing found but churlish taunts,
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By everyone's consent.
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His own dear cross he bore himself,
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A burthen far too great;
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Which caus'd him in the streets to faint
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With blood and water sweat.
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Being weary, thus he sought for rest,
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For to ease his burthen'd soul,
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Upon a stone, the which a wretch
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Did churlishly controul.
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And said, Away thou King of Jews,
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You shall not rest you here;
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Pass on, your exeeution place
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You see now draweth near.
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And thereupon he thrust him thence,
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At which our Saviour said,
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I sure will rest, but thou shall walk
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And have no Journey staid.
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With that this cursed Shoemaker,
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For offering Christ this Wrong,
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Lest Wife and Children, house and all,
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And went from thence along.
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So when he had the precious blood
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Of Jesus Christ thus shed,
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And to the cross his body nail'd.
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Away with speed he fled,
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Without returning back again
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Unto his dwelling place,
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And Wandereth up and down the World
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A renegade most base.
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No resting could he find at all,
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Nor ease nor heart's content,
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Nor house nor home nor dwelling place,
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But Wandering forth he went.
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From Town to Town in foreign lands,
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With grieved conscience still.
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Repenting for the henious guilt
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Of his forepassed ill.
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Thus after some ages past,
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With Wandering up and down,
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He once again desired to see
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Jerusalem's fair Town.
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But finding it was quite destroy'd,
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He Wandered full of Woe;
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Our Saviour's Words which he had spoke
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To verifiy and shew.
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I'll rest said he, but thou shalt walk,
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So doth the Wandering JEW,
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From place to place, but cannot stay,
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For seeing countries new.
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Declaring still the power of him,
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Where'er he comes or goes,
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And all things done in the East,
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Since Christ's death he doth shew.
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The world he still doth compass round,
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And see these countries strange,
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Who hearing of the name of Christ,
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Their idol Gods do change.
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To whom he hath told wonderous things,
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Of time fore past and gone,
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And to the princes of the World,
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Declar'd his cause of Moan.
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Desiring still to be dissolv'd,
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And yeild his mortal Breath;
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But as the Lord had thus decrecd,
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He must not yet see Death.
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For neither looks he young or old,
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But as he did those times,
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When Christ did suffer on the Cross
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For mortal Sinners crimes
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He passed many foreign lands,
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Arabia, Egypt, Africa,
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Greece, Syria, and Greet Thrace,
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And quite thro' Hungaria,
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Where Paul and Peter preached Christ,
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Those blest Apostles dear,
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Where he hath told our Saviours words,
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In the countries far and near,
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And lately in Bohemia,
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With many a German town,
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And now in Fanders as 'tis thought,
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He wandereth up and down.
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Where learned Men with him confer,
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Of those his lingering days,
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And wonder much to hear him tell
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His Journies and his ways,
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If people give this Jew an alms,
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The most that he will take,
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Is not above a groat a day,
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Which he for Jesus sake,
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Doth kindly give unto the poor,
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And therefore make no spare;
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Affirming still that Jesus Christ
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Of him hath daily care;
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He was not seen to laugh or smile,
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But Weep and make great moan.
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Lamenting still his Miseries,
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And Days far spent and gone.
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If he hears any one blaspheme,
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Or takes God's name in vain,
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He tells them that they crucify
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Our Saviour Christ again.
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If thou hadst seen grim Death said he,
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As these my eyes have done,
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Ten thousand thousand times would ye,
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His torments thinks upon.
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And suffer for his sake all pains,
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All torments and all woes:
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These are his Words, and this his life,
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Whene'er he comes or goes.
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