1 Now I to my beloved will
A song of my love's vineyard sing
He hath a vineyard on a hill,
Which in the fattst soil doth spring.
2 He fenc'd it and its stones out threw
And planted it with choicest vine,
Amidst it built a tow'r also
And therein made a press for wine.
He looked grapes it should yield then,
But sowre wild grapes it forth did bring.
3 Now dwellers in Jerusalem,
And men of Judah judge this thing
Between my vineyard now and me.
4 What to it could I have done more?
Yet when I look'd its grapes to see,
Why brought it forth wild grapes therefore?
5 And now I'll tell you what I'll do:
My vineyard's hedge remove will I,
To be devour'd, and I'll down throw
It's wall; and it trod down shall lye.
And it for desolate I'll lay;
Unprun'd, undigg'd, with brambles spread,
And thorns; yea to the clouds 'll say,
That they on it no rain shall shed.
7 Becaufe the house of Israel,
The Lord of hofts his vineyard is,
The men in Judah's tribe that dwell,
They are that pleasant plant of his,
And he for judgment did expect,
But lo there an oppressing wound;
And that they justice should effect.
But lo an outcry there he found.