Distressed Zion Relieved
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The source of this document is the Early English Books Online (EEBO-TCP) website. Those books were transcribed in a character for character manner and can be very cumbersome to read since there was no standard spelling during that time. Many spelling variations such as "unlesse", "vnlesse", and "vnles" regularly appear.
This project was conceived to clean up those books as much as possible and make them more accessible to the interested reader, leading to the creation of a massive list of variant spellings and their corrections. This was used to clean up the text, but is of course only as complete as the list itself. Because of the nature of the original transcription, some words have missing characters or places where the original language (e.g., Greek) was not transcribed. This effort does not change that. Be aware that the original transcription can also be faulty and in some cases entire sentences may be missing.
Although this is no substitute for a properly compared, proofed, and scholarly edition, I believe that the result is a document which is far more accessible, particularly for searching for terms using standard spelling. The document has been cleaned and presented in what I hope is a pleasing and useful format for the vast majority of Christian brothers and sisters who just want access to read these spiritually nourishing works.
However, a word of warning: The Puritans were a very diverse group of people and their age was characterized with godliness, but also much upheaval, disputation and strife. They disagreed on many doctrines and some of these works contain less orthodox or Scriptural views than others. The reader is strongly advised to read with discernment, particularly if it is unknown whether author is trustworthy.
This project took a huge amount of time and skill to bring to fruition. I would particularly like to thank David Jonescue for the initial list of Puritans he found on EEBO and the concept behind this project as well as the continuous, unceasing efforts toward seeing this complete. Without his labor, this would not be available. Alex Sarrouf was invaluable in providing the initial list of over 7,000 spelling variations he had identified and corrected, as well as continuing to review more than 16,000 additions to that list for any typos.
Logan West
(with David Jonescue and Alex Sarrouf)
www.puritansearch.org
[illustration]
1. Zion. 2. Her Children. 3. the Beast and Where overthrown. 4 The two Witnesses Rising. 5. Pope and Jesuit. 6. Enemies of the Church all Flying. 7. Angels destroying them
Distressed Zion RELIEVED, OR, The Garment of Praise for the Spirit of Heaviness. Wherein are Discovered the Grand Causes of the Churches Trouble and Misery under the late Dismal Dispensation. With a Compleat History of, and Lamentation for those Renowned Worthies that fell in England by Popilh Rage and Cruelty, from the Year 1680 to 1688. Together with an Account of the late Admirable and Stupendious Providence which hath wrought such a sudden and Wonderful Deliverance for this Nation, and God's Zion therein.
Humbly Dedicated to their Present Majesty's.
By Benjamin Keach, Author of a Book called, Zion in Distress, or the Groans of the True Protestant Church.
Licensed and Entred according to Order.
LONDON, Printed for Nath. Crouch at the Bell in the Poultry near Cheapside. 1689.
To their Most Excellent Majesty's William and Mary, by the Grace of God, King and Queen of England, &c.
Dread Sovereigns,
May it please your Majesty's
MOST graciously to cast your Princely Eyes,
And to accept of this small worthless Mite,
From one, whose Soul's enamored with the sight
Of seeing you brought to
Great Britain's
Throne,
Which Angels do delight to look upon.
Methinks I see the Cherubs clap their wings,
Singing sweet Anthems to the King of Kings,
That such a King and Queen are set on high,
In glorious Power and Sovereign Majesty.
No marvel 'tis, since by Angelic Power
You're both preserved to this happy hour.
For sure he's blind who cannot discern most clear
Twas by Heavens Conduct you were both brought here.
Such a stupendous Providence before
Was never known, and never may no more
Be seen again in this Great Northern Isle,
Which fills our hearts with joy, & makes us smile
What a distressed and for lorn estate
Was this now glorious Kingdom in of late.
Poor
England,
alas! did bleeding lie,
For many years inslav'd by Tyranny.
And Zion too was in the same condition,
Weeping with bitter groans, and deep contrition
Let me a little freely now dilate
Upon
Great Britain's
miserable state:
When first on her you cast your Royal look,
And her Salvation likewise undertook,
A glorious Enterprize, which Heaven did bless
With such amazing and admired success.
Sick, sick, as heart can hold, the Kingdom lies▪
Filling each corner with her mournful cries;
Sometimes she burns, as when a Fever heats;
Anon Despair brings cold and clammy sweats.
No rest she gains, or if she do, she dreams
Of Massacres, Fires, Blood, and direful Theams.
She no Physicians finds; Bold Empiricks▪
Are from St.
Omers
sent, to try their tricks,
Who wicked crafty counsel take together,
To poison her, 'twas this that brought them hither.
Nay hold (says
Petre
) we'll first let her blood;
That's fit for her, and will do us most good.
Her Blood's infected, so corrupt, I see,
Naught else can cure her Northern Heresy.
But let us first prescribe a Golden Pill
To ease her, that she may suspect no ill,
But may conclude we choice Physicians be;
The Pill that they prepared was Liberty;
Curiously gilt it was, and tasted well,
But when 'twas down she int' an Ague fell;
Then these State-Mountebanks do her assure
Jesuits-Powder will effect the cure.
Yet still she's sick, and seized with stronger fits,
Which made most think these Drs. all were Cheats.
Their Physic was of such a composition,
It made the Body Politick in confusion;
And many evidently did foresee
'Twas to effect a direful Tragedy.
They did pretend to purge ill humors out,
That they their black Designs might bring about;
And th'evil humors which did lurking lie
In divers parts o'th' Body, grew thereby
More strong and vigorous, and did disturb
What nature did before so strongly curb,
That wise Physicians made this wise conclusion,
Twould wholly change the Bodys constitution
From good to bad, from healthy, free, and sound,
Would cause malignant humors to abound.
Ill ones, no doubt, it was designed to nourish,
Tho', for a while, some good ones it did cherish▪
Thus may a Medicine, which is safe and good,
(As Liberty is, if rightly understood)
When ill prepared, and unduly given,
Prove dangerous as any under Heaven;
And pity 'tis this universal Pill,
That has wrought wonders, was designed so ill.
But ah! what shall she do? th' Impostors Art
Her head doth poison, and corrupt her heart;
Must she, O must she die! O hear her groans!
Hear Zion's too; O hearken how she moans!
There is no help but from the God of Wonder,
'It is he alone that's able to bring under
This Foe to Nature, which is grown so strong,
And hath her vital parts oppressed so long.
All her Physicians weep, and secretly
Were heard to say, poor
England
now must die,
Unless th' Almighty by his own right hand
Work Miracles to save our sinking Land.
But who's the Instrument will rise up for her?
Who is the Man whom God delights to honor,
To bring relief when all her hopes were gone?
Great Sir,
'Twas you
Jehovah
fixed upon;
No sooner heard she your victorious Name,
But she revived, and cheerful soon became:
But ah! the Winds were cross, this made us fear
We n're should have your longed for presence here.
And when we heard you were upon the Seas,
Our hearts rejoiced, yet had not perfect ease;
We doubted still what dangers you might meet
In that most Glorious and Renowned Fleet,
Yet still our Prayers more fervent were and more
To see your Royal Person safe on shore:
And all the time in
England
you have been,
What strange amazing wonders have we seen?
A poor sick Land divided; by Christ's power
Made whole and all united in an hour,
United so, as jointly to combine
To own this just and glorious design.
O're us long hung a black and dismal Cloud,
From whence we feared a dreadful storm of blood;
Yet when it brake, naught but sweet dews distill,
This, this may sure our souls with wonder fill,
To see a Mighty Army raised by
Rome,
Some fly for fear, and others Friends become,
To gain the Victory, yet never fight,
This plain appears God's hand to all men's sight.
Poor
Zion,
who i' th' dust did prostrate lie,
Bewailing her approaching misery,
Began to rouse, and on her feet to stand,
When you upon the English Shore did land.
She long expected, in our Hemisphere
A glorious Star would certainly appear;
And now he's come, she cannot for bear to sing,
With Joy to welcome her desired King;
And as the Sun, whose powerful reflection
Gives to all Vegetables a resurrection;
Even so God's Witnesses now raised are,
Whose bodies lay like dead so lately here.
For though it was in the cold Winter time,
We saw so great a change in our sharp Clime
As made us cry, The Winter now is gone,
Your powerful Rays in this our Horizon,
Made Flowers bud as in the early Spring,
And chirping Birds melodiously to sing:
We heard the Turtles Voice too in our Land,
Such mighty Blessings, Thankfulness command;
Blessings which
England
never knew before,
For which the God of Heaven we should adore:
And since our Sun is risen, let him shine
Most gloriously in Rays which are Divine,
Like powerful
Sol,
whose Soul reviving Beams,
Whose warming nature and delightful gleams,
Send forth on all his powerful Influence,
So let him equally his warmth dispence.
Nor can we fail of this our expectation.
It's like yourself, 'tis like your Declaration,
You by some just sublime and sacred Arts
Are both become the King and Queen of hearts;
You there erect your Throne, 'tis there you reign,
Sure such a Kingdom always will remain.
Oh may our Sun never Eclipsed be,
Oh may he send his Beams from Sea to Sea,
And may he give an Universal Light,
That all dark Regions may receive their sight;
And may his strong attractive Power likewise
Dry up those naufeous sinks of sin that rise
And grow so rife, unto our Nations shame,
And high dishonor of
Jehovah's
Name:
May he his growing cherishing Beams display
Upon the Good and Virtuous, so that they
May all strive to exceed in fruitfulness,
And flourish like those Trees the Lord doth bless.
But let him, Lord, be a hot scorching Sun
To thy grand Foe, The Whore of
Babylon:
Let him make all those noisome weeds to fade,
And lose the glory which they lately had,
So that the
Flower de Luce
may hang the head,
It is high time it quite were withered.
Let proud
Tyrconnels
heart now die away,
To hear who does
Great Britain's
Scepter sway.
Let our Dear Sovereign send such powerful Darts
As may subdue the most rebellious hearts
Of Teagues and Tories in that mournful Land
O're which our Princes long have had command;
But let him be a healing Sun unto
His People, and their Differences subdue;
When Both have run their Race, Crown Both on high,
Among thy Saints to all Eternity.
So prays
your Majesty's most humble and most obedient and truly Loyal Subject, Benj. Keach.
TO THE READER.
YOU are here presented with a Poem that gives a full Relation of the woeful state and sufferings of the Protestant Church from the year 1680. until the year 1688. Together with an Account of those Worthy Christians and Renowned Heroes that suffered during the same space of time. In the year 1666. I wrote a Treatise called Zion in Distress; I then perceiving Popery ready to bud, and would, if God prevented not, spring up afresh in this Land, and then in 1680. came forth a new Edition, with such Enlargements, which made it very different from the first Impression, which was entitled also, Zion in Distress, or The Groans of the True Protestant Church, wherein I shown the Causes of her Calamities, with an Enumeration of some prevailing Sins; together with the Plots and Contrivances of Rome against Zion, which Book received general Acceptance. But now this, as the Title assures you, brings better News for our great joy and astonishment at what God hath wrought; he hath graciously been pleased to turn our sorrow and mourning into Rejoicing.
You have therefore an Account of the glorious Deliverance both of Church and State from Popery and Slavery by the hand of His now present Majesty, which as it is the Wonderment of this present Age; so it will be, no doubt, of future Generations: But since the excellencies of things appear best, when compared to their contraries, as Light, when compared to Darkness, and Health to Sickness, and Liberty to Bonds, &c. I have repeated many things that you have in Zion in Distress, which set forth her deplorable condition, that so we may the more clearly discern and admire the present blessing and future glory of God's Church; but because many grounds of Zion's Complaint still continue, such I mean as respect the Divisions that are amongst good Protestants, and the sad Enormities of Professors, she doth repeat those her Sorrows with some fresh aggravations and additions of them: And since the Great Whore is fallen, and suddenly too in this Kingdom, and many that represent her are in hold, I have added something concerning her Trial, Sentence or Condemnation, that was in the last, which part looked to such a happy hour as this is; and though' we cannot perfectly foresee what God is about to do, as yet, we being but in the morning of the approaching glory—yet are we full of expectation, that the work of God in respect of these great and longed▪for blessings, will not go back again, but do believe their present Majesty's are raised up to be glorious Instruments in the hand of God beyond what some ('tis like) may suppose; nor do I doubt but that the slain Witnesses are a-getting out of their graves; time will open things clearer to us: But I am sure we cannot sufficiently adore the Divine Goodness for that Salvation wrought by his own right hand; let us strive to be thankful to God, and labor to live in love one with another, and improve the present Providence; for since God hath graciously been pleased to do wonders for us, let us endeavor to do some great things for him.
If this may stir up any to act and do valiantly in Israel, and be any ways useful to the Church of God, or to any Member thereof, I have my desire,
Who am still
thy Souls Friend and Servant for Christ's sake, Benjamin Keach.
On the Ingenious Author of the Poem called, Distressed Zion Relieved.
OUR Author heated with Seraphic Fire,
Which did his late lamenting Muse inspire.
He thereby in the highest notes of grief
Wept Tears in Verse when
Zion
lackt Relief
From Art high lofty strains he would not borrow.
But only did describe a Natural sorrow.
His clear discerning Soul did then foretell
Her danger, and what afterward befell.
He gave us warning to prevent the stroke,
Sins to forsake, and M
〈…〉
y to invoke,
Yet would not without Consolation leave us,
Nor did that Book of comfort quite bereave us,
But still assured us, That the Scarlet Whore
Should in a short time fall and rise no more.
What he did then predict we hope that we
Within a little while performed shall see,
That Heaven on
Zion's
sorrows will look down,
And for her sufferings will at length her Crown.
That
Zion
late distrest, God will relieve,
And for her troubles comfort to her give.
These Hopes our Authors Soul do now inspire
they rouse his Muse, and make him to admire
What Great Deliverance is already wrought,
So great that it was even beyond our thought.
This he in cheerful accents to us sings,
And our past sufferings to our memory brings.
The Glory of those Worthies he revives,
That for their Country offered their Lives.
They Popery and Slavery did withstand,
Which was even ready to over-spread the Land.
And though God did not then success afford,
Our Author doth their Gallant Names record;
And thereby hath himself obtained a Name
That shall be registered in the Book of Fame;
When he is gone, his Works shall never die,
But still be Famous to Posterity.
C. N.
Distressed Zion RELIEVED, OR, The Garment of Praise for the Spirit of Heaviness.
FOR almost Thirty years last past have I
Seen Floods of Tears flowing continually
From
Zion's
Eyes, whose sad distressed state
With Filial Sympathy I did relate.
In Sixty Six a year of expectation
Came no relief, but still fresh Lamentation;
When she was told her sorrows would be over,
That year producit more sorrow than before,
Which caused me who in Prison then did lie
To sigh and sob, and weep most bitterly,
In prospect of what I saw coming on
Poor
Zion,
e're her miseries would be gone,
And therefore did before that year run out,
Foretel some things time since hath brought bo
•
Zion's
Distresses plainly did appear,
And still they did increase year after year,
Until the time the Popish Plot was known,
That Grand Intrigue of Bloody
Babylon,
My Soul had then some ease, I then did hope
The day was come should quite o'rethrow t
••
Pop
•
And bloody Whore, That cursed Church of
Rom
That she would now receive her fatal Doom;
But all my hopes being frustrate, I again
In the year Eighty poured out Tears amain.
For at that time came forth a new Addition
To
Zion's
groans and sorrowful condition,
When I had thought poor
Zion's
woes were gone
What dismal Clouds over▪spread our Horizon;
Just as I deemed I spy'd the morning Light.
How were we threatened with a dismal Night
Of Popish Darkness; this I did descry,
And mourned in Verse for
England
's misery,
But
Zion
's troubles I did most lament;
Whose Enemies were strong and insolent,
Which caused me in Christian Sympathy
With bitter groans my grief to testify
In this sad manner:
'WHat dismal vapor in so black a form
'Is this which seems Harbinger to a Storm
'What pitchy Cloud invades our starry Sky,
'To stop the beamings of the Worlds great Eye
'What spreading Sables of
Egyptian
Night
'Would rob the Earth of its illustrious Light?
'What interposing Fog obscures our Sun?
'What dire Eclipse benights our Horizon?
'Is
England
's Great and Royal Bridegroom fled?
'Is its
Aurora
newly gone to Bed,
'That scattered Clouds make such prodigious haste,
'Combine in one, and re-unite so fast?
'Clouds that so lately dissipated were,
'Do now conspire to make a darker Air.
'I mourn unpitied, groan without relief;
'No bounds nor measures terminate my grief,
'The Sluces of mine Eyes are too too narrow
'To vent the Streams of my increasing sorrow.
'Ebbs follow swelling Floods, and springing Days
'Adorn the Fields which Winter dis-arrays.
'All States and Things have their alternate ranges,
'As Providence the Scene of Action changes.
'All Revolutions hurry to and fro,
'Yet rest and settlement at length do know.
'But helpless I have often looked about
'To find some ease and Soul refreshment out,
'Yet can I see no prospect of relief,
'But swift additions multiply my grief,
'As Pilgrims wander in their great distress
'Amongst the wild rapacious Savages,
In pathless Desarts, where the midnight howls
Of hungry Wolves mixed with the screech of Owls,
And Ravens dismal croaks salute the Ears
Of poor Erratick trembling Passengers.
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'So I am surrounded, so the Beasts of prey
'Conspire to take my Life and Name away.
'My glowing Soul does melt, my Spirits faint
'For want of vent, I am pregnant with complaint;
'No Age nor Generation but has known
'Some part of this my just and grievous moan,
'But now I am far more dangerously charged
'By bolder Foes; my sorrows are enlarged,
'A Hellish Tribe of black
Avernus
Crew,
'Do Blood-hound like, me and my Lambs pursue.
'Lord Jesus come; O Christ, let me invoke,
'Thy sacred presence to divert the stroke.
'Have all my Friends forsook me? Are there none
'To ease my woes? Ah must I grieve alone?
Zion's
Friend.
'What doleful noise salutes my listening Ear?
'What grief expressing voice is that I hear?
'Methinks the accent of this dismal cry
'Issues from one in great extremity;
'The shrilness of this mournful tone bespeaks
'A Woman's loud and unregarded shrieks.
'The more her deep and piercing sighs I heed,
'The more my Heart in Sympathy does bleed.
'Ah! who can find her out? who can make known
'The Author of this Heart-relenting moan;
'Doubtless though sorrow now has seized upon her,
'She is a Lady of high Birth and Honor,
'Of Royal Stem, extracted from above,
'Nurs'd in the Chambers of the Fathers Love,
'Espoused to a most Illustrious Prince,
'Who over all has Just Preeminence,
'Monarch of Monarchs!
'Ah
Zion!
is it thou?
'Oh mourn my Soul, Oh let my Spirit bow;
'Let all that Love the Bridegroom sigh for grief,
'For
Zion
weeps as if past all relief;
'But why, O
Zion,
(since thou art beloved
'Of Heaven's Supreme) art thou so sadly moved?
'Why with stretched Arms dost thou implore the Skies?
'Why do such streams of Tears flow from thine Eyes?
'This makes me wonder.
Zion.
'My forlorn Estate
'Is poor, unpitied, mean and desolate.
'I long have wandered in the Wilderness,
'Involv'd in trouble and in sore distress;
'In Caves absconding from the horrid rage
'Of savage Beasts; until this latter Age.
'Yet when I but attempted to look out,
'The Monsters to destroy me searched about;
'The roaring Blood-hounds greedy on the scent,
'To kill or drive me back again are bent.
'No interval of peace, no rest they give,
'Pronounce me cursed, and not fit to live.
'The cruel Dragon joineth with the Beast
'To gore my sides, and spoil my Interest;
'Th' old Lion, Lyonness, and the Lions whelp,
'With dreadful Jaws the other Beasts do help.
'Dogs, Bulls and Foxes, Bears and Wolves agree
'To rend and tear, and make a spoil of me.
'I that have been so delicately bred,
'My Children at the Royal Table fed,
'Am now exposed to the Infernal spite
'Of such who still in Fire and Blood delight.
'Hatch Plo
•
s in Hell and
Rome,
whose black desig
'Is to stab Monarchs, and to undermine
'Our Ancient Laws, subvert Religion, and
'Bow
England's
Neck to Antichrists command.
'These were Fore-runners of that dismal Doom
'Of Fire and Faggot, which the Whore of
Rome
'Prepar'd for
English
Protestants, and the rest,
'Who would not adore the Image of the Beast.
'I am the mark these Monsters aim at; all
'Their Grand Intrigues were to contrive my fall.
'If Friends or Strangers any favor show,
'They straight conspire to work their overthrow.
1678. 'Ah vile Conspiracy! Ah cursed Plot!
'So deeply laid; How canst thou be forgot?
'Th' Infernal Conclave never produced a Brat
'Into the world so horrible as that,
'Since
Rome
Usurpt the Western Monarchy,
'Which she still Rules with Fraud and Treachery,
'In forging Plots, employing Hellish Actors;
'Ah! let us treat 'um as the Devils Factors.
'Distressed
Zion
O how few regard
'My sighs and tears, their Hearts are grown so ha
••
'My restless Hurricanes with storms and wind,
'No ease, no peace, no comfort can I find;
''The horrid aspect of these Monsters do
'Affright my Children, some they worry too,
'Others they seize like greedy Beasts of prey,
'And to their Den the Sacrifice convey.
'Renowned GODFREY whose immortal Glory
'Martyred for me shall ever live in Story;
'Let every Loyal Eye that reads it there,
'Yield to his name the Tribute of a Tear.
'Brave Soul! thy Love and Loyalty do claim
'That King and People should proclaim thy name
'As
England
's Victim, never to be forgot,
'Fastning on
Rome
an Everlasting blot.
'The Great
Jehovah
who is only wise,
'Permits thy fall as a sweet Sacrifice.
'Thy barbarous Murder has made clearly out
'That Plot which none but Infidels now doubt.
'Those bloody Varlets, black Assassinates,
'Curst Executioners of
Rome
's Debates,
'Drunk with Infernal cruelty, made thee
'A Specimen of
England
's Tragedy.
'By thee we learn what courtesy to hope
'From
Romish
Butchers, Vassals to the Pope
'Thou led'st the Van, first fell'st into the Trap
'From whence they hopeit no Protestant should scape.
'Poor Innocent! trepann'd amongst them came
'Into their Nets like a poor harmless Lamb,
'Whilst they like hungry Tigers ready stood
'T' imbrue their Tallons in thy guiltless Blood.
'Thou little dream'dst such an Infernal snare
'Had there been laid t' entrap thee unaware.
'It is strange (say some) what reason should ing
•
'Them to make thee the Object of their rage;
'Some think 'twas 'cause the
Babylonish
Whore,
'Big with a Bastard longed as heretofore
'For Christian Blood; Her Favorites made haste
'In her great need to help her to a taste
'Of choicest Liquors; thine she calls for first,
'To cheer her sinking Heart, and quench her Thir▪
'Fearing miscarriage; when her Spirits faint
'She drinks the Hearts blood of some Martyred Sain
'Insatiate, like the Horse-leech still she cries,
'Give, give me that, there's naught else will suffice
'My craving Paunch; my pleasure must be done
'This Heretic was a Pragmatick one,
'He knew my secret Clubs, and would reveal
'My Tragic Plots; we must prevent his Zeal,
'Let's strangle him before he does relate
'The Villanies we intend to perpetrate.
'Ah brutish Whore, of Cannibals the worst,
'For this cursed draught be thou forever cursed;
'In the most lasting Records let us see
'This horrid instance of thy cruelty.
'This Loyal Knight never injured thee, but stood
'Upright for Justice, and his Countries good.
'Will naught but Blood of Protestants give ease?
'Or quench thy thirst? What mischievous Disease
'Infects thy Bowels? Must your Churches food
'Be Flesh of Saints? Your Mornings draught their Blood▪
'Fellonious Strumpet! darest thou be so bold
'To steal by night into thy Neighbors Fold,
'And seize my Lambs? Thy Theft and Cruelty,
'And all thy Murders shall revenged be.
'But since he's gone and Justice does pursue
'With eager steps the Assassinating Crew,
'We'l acquiesce; for Heaven now seems to call,
'And bid tears cease, at his sad Funeral.
'Let Christians offer through the Universe
'Whole Hecatombs upon his bleeding Herse.
'And could their tears increase into a Flood
''Twere no excess; so much I prize his Blood.
THus, thus did I in Eighty make sad moan
For that brave Hero who was dead and gone;
But Oh my Heart!—A Cordial presently,
My Spirits faint! Ah me! Help Lord! I die
Unless I have relief, I cannot sustain
My sinking Soul! was ever any pain
Or sorrow equal to what I now feel?
My burd'ned mind under her weight does reel.
Oh since that year what woes have I beheld!
How have my mournful Eyes with tears been filled?
I then did fear what since is come to pass
As in that Treatise plainly hinted was.
Did
Rachel
mourn, and all relief refuse,
How then can I forbear? How can I choose
But weep, and to lament for my sad Lot?
What Children have I lost? who now are not.
Did I for one such Lamentation make?
My Bowels now may surely throb and ache,
When I recount how many since are gone,
Who murdered were by bloody
Babylon.
1681. Poor
College
first before this Idol fell,
Betray'd to death by Evidence from Hell;
To drink his Blood there seemed to be some strife,
Was twice Indicted; they must have his Life:
Yet they could never shake his constancy,
Hear his great Soul sing his own Elegy.
A Poem written by Mr. Stephen College a while before he was sent to Oxford, where he Suffered Death, Aug. 31. 1681.
Wrongful Imprisonment
Hurts not the Innocent.
WHat if I am into a Prison cast,
By Hellish Combinations am betrayed?
My Soul is free although my Body's fast:
Let them repent that have this evil laid,
And of Eternal vengeance be afraid;
Though Racks and Gibbets can my Body kill,
My God is with me, and I fear no ill.
What boots the clamours of the giddy Throng?
What Antidote's against a poisonous Breath?
What Fence is there against a Lying Tongue,
Sharpen'd by Hell to wound a man to Death?
Snakes, Vipers, Adders do lurk underneath:
Say what you will, or never speak at all,
Our very Prayers such Wretches Treason call.
But Walls and Bars cannot a Prison make,
The Free-born Soul enjoys its Liberty;
These clods of Earth it may incaptivate,
Whilst Heavenly Minds are conversant on high,
Ranging the Fields of Blest Eternity:
So let this Bird sing sweetly in my Breast,
My Conscience clear, a Rush for all the rest.
What I have done I did with good intent,
To serve my King, my Country, and the Laws;
Against the bloody Papists I was bent,
Cost what it will I will never repent my Cause,
Nor do I fear their Hell-devouring Jaws;
A Protestant I am, and such I will die,
Maugre all Deaths, and Popish Cruelty.
But what need I these Protestations make,
Actions speak men far better than their words.
Whate're I suffer's for my Country's sake,
Not 'cause I had a Gun, or Horse, or Sword;
Or that my Heart did Treason e're afford;
No, 'tis not me (alone) they do intend,
But thousands more, to gain their cursed End.
And sure of this the World's so well aware,
That here 'tis needless more for me to say,
I must conclude, no time have I to spare,
My winged hours do fly too fast away,
My (work) Repentance must I not delay,
I will add my Prayers to God for
England
's good
And if he please will Seal them with my Blood.
O Blessed God destroy this black design
Of Popish Consults! it's in thee we trust;
Our Eyes are on thee, help, O Lord, in time.
Thou God of Truth, most Merciful and Just,
Do thou defend us, or we perish must;
Save
England,
Lord, from Popish Cruelty,
My Country bless, Thy will be done on me.
Mans Life's a Voyage through a Sea of tears,
If he would gain the Haven of his Rest;
His signs must fill the Sails whilst some Men Steers.
When Storms arise let each man do his best,
And cast the Anchor of his hopes (oppressed)
Till Time or Death shall bring us to that Shore
Where Time nor Death shall never be no more.
Laus Deo.
Amen.
From my Prison in the Tower, August 15, 1681.
Stephen College
Great
Essex
! Ah thy groans methinks I hear!
What never a Friend? hadst thou not one Friend near?
No
•
e, none to help; in vain it was to cry
When there were none but Savage Monsters nigh.
Since thy great Soul could not enticed be,
No
•
wouldst conceal their cursed cruelty,
They make a bloody Tragedy of thee.
Surpriz'd, lest all should be discovered
Unto this Dev'lish Policy they were led;
And to conceal their horrid Plot they try
Those wicked Arts, which do it justify
Confirming it to all Posterity.
Though thy Assassinates like men appear,
Their cursed attempt showed least of man was there,
Incarnate Devils certainly they were.
Ah cruel Tyrants! destitute of shame,
To murder both thy Body and thy Name.
Could not thy Blood their hellish thirst suffice?
But must thou die a double Sacrifice?
What! cut thy Throat with such barbarity,
And when thy Sovereign also was so nigh!
The Royal Prison, though a Tower strong,
Was no defense nor refuge to thee long.
Thou careful wast how to preserve thy life,
And yet didst fall by a cursed Romish Knife.
Thy Head almost cut off; and yet they cry
That thy own hands did act the Tragedy;
••
t now we hope it plainly will appear,
Who the vile Actors; who the Murderers were.
May I not borrow now (as many do)
Some proper lines, made on an
Essex
too.
Shall such a Noble Peer fall thus by
Rome
?
And shall I not drop tears upon his Tomb?
Shall none who loved him, move for a Vote?
Ye Lord's and Commons, ye are bound to doit.
A Vote that all on that same day o'th' year
On which he fell shall mourn, or shed a tear,
Or else be judged a`Papist? It were wise
T' erect an Office in my Children's Eyes,
For issuing forth a constant sum of tears,
There's no way else to pay him his Arrears,
And when we 've drien'd this Ages Eyes quite dry,
Let him be wept the next in History.
1683. Renowned Great Lord
Russel
next,
〈◊〉
Is marked out for this direful Tragedy,
Scarce had I dry'd mine Eyes for loss of one,
But they another Hero fall upon.
A braver Lord scarce ever lost his Head;
Nay few like him hath
England
ever bred.
From a most Noble Stem he did Spring forth,
And had a Spirit
•
uited to his Birth.
Had I not wept so many tears before,
For him whole Rivers from mine Eyes might pour.
Had I an Helicon in either Eye,
The thoughts of
Russel
soon may draw them dry.
Great Soul! too great for our inferior praise,
You for yourself the Noblest Trophies raise.
Your Love to
Zion,
and your Native Land
Shall mentioned be, even while the Earth doth stand
My loss and
England
's too who shall repair?
Great God! his hardened Enemies do not spare;
'Twas by the Blood of these Great Men I see
England
was freed from
Rome
's cursed Tyranny.
T'avoid the
Odium
of their cursed Plot,
Which notwithstanding never will be forgot,
Another was contrived, wherewith they thought
The innocent to ensnare, who should be brought
Thereby to ruin; and then hoped to see
Zion
and her best Friends would ruined be;
This was the Second part of
Rome
's design
To work the overthrow of me and mine,
And these two Champions standing in their way
With bloody hands they villainously slay.
The first inhumanely was Murdered,
The other they did publicly Behead.
They charged him indeed with odious Crimes,
(And many others too, in those black times:)
Crimes he to th' last did utterly deny,
Whose Noble Soul their malice did defy,
But Villains swore, and he alas must die.
O Heaven and Earth be ye astonished!
How fain would they have struck off my poor Head,
Yet of my Blood that they themselves might clear,
Good Protestants the scandal on it must bear.
1683.
Sydney,
dear
Sydney
treacherously fell,
Whom I esteemed a Prince in
Israel;
Those Laws that were intended for defense,
Were wrested so thou couldst not have from thence
Any relief, but thou must likewise die,
Although on thee no guilt at all did lie,
Jury and Judge dealt so inhumanely.
What hadst thou done? what cause of death in the
For
Zion
'twas; 'twas for thy Love to me.
Thy Principles were such, Hell could not bear
The thoughts thereof, though published they never we
Thou wast too Just, and hadst such piercing Eyes,
Those Hellish Statesmen doubted a surprise,
And therefore made thee a third Sacrifice.
1684. By Popish Arts many more ruined were,
Poor
Holloway
likewise fell into the snare;
B'ing from th' Western World a Prisoner brought,
By those who fiercely his destruction sought;
Who at the place of Execution
Delivered his Bible unto one
Of his Relations, wherein he had writ
The following lines, which I do here transmit.
'Owner hereof prize this, and bless the Lord
'That yet to
England
doth his Word afford;
'Had I lived longer, hopes I should have had
'T' have seen times mend, but now expect them bad
'Truth will not do, for much of it I wrote,
'And for it I die much rather than the Plot.
'Did you know all, you would say I did my part
'To free you from designed Popish smart.
And now alas! behold my dismal case,
Great Flouds of sorrow follow on apace.
Many Religious, Pious Men of worth
Are rendered vile, not fit to live on Earth.
Observe
Rome
's policy, who contrived it so
That Protestants should Protestants undo.
Conscience must now be basely shackled
Against its Light imposed on, and misled,
And truckle like a Slave unto all those
Who did Christ's Regal power in man oppose:
Either their Consciences must wounded lie
Under despair for their Apostasy;
Or if they were resolved, and sincere,
They loss of Goods, Contempt and Scorn must bear;
Be sent to noisome Jayls, or to Exile,
Which many chose, rather than to defile
Their precious Souls, and treacherously dis-own,
Or yield the power of Christ's righteous Throne
Up to Usurpers, who audaciously
Cry,
All is
Caesar'
s due,
and so deny
God over Conscience has the Sovereignty.
No wonder they Laws violently break down;
That all our Civil Rights are overthrown.
That our Just Properties they take away,
And our most Ancient Liberties betray.
Since they the Glorious Monarchy of Heaven
•
o now Invade, and strive to have it given
•
nto their hands that they may tread it down,
And impudently cry,
All is their own.
Grand Rebels! what, attempt the Right of God?
••
you not fear his dreadful Iron Rod?
Would you Dethrone him? would your hellish spite
•••
rive both God and Man of their just Right?
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This you designed (although in vain) to do;
And Christ's blest Kingdom fain would overthrow▪
One while they cry,
Conscience to them must be
•
Another time,
Christ's Right they did defend.
When it did seem to favor their design,
Conscience in all its rights they undermine,
But when they found 'twould with their Interest sta
•
And with th' Intrigues that they then had in hand,
They cry,
Nought's juster than that all men do
To others as they would be done unto.
But to return; nothing for many years
Is seen but Persecution, Blood and Tears.
No Liberty at all Conscience must have,
But the Dissenters Prison proves his Grave,
Where hundreds of them lay long buried,
Whilst others of their Goods were plundered.
Many in filthy Jayls so long did lie,
That poisoned with the stench they there did die.
Law and Religion both were trampled down,
And most good men termed
Enemies to the Crown.
Charters of Towns and Cities ta'ne away,
That Popery and Slavery might bear sway.
No Stone
〈…〉
unturn'd, whereby they might
Bring
〈◊〉
poor
England
an Eternal Night
Of Popish darkness; many therefore fled,
Whilst others were strangely dis-spirited.
Divers good Magistrates were laid aside,
And wicked men for Judges they provide,
Void of all fear of God, who anything
Would give for Law, they thought would please
〈◊〉
King
Did a Dissenter Law or Justice crave?
He's branded for a Rascal, Rebel, Slave.
Yet many men so strangely blinded were,
They could not see, though things appeared so clear,
Because that King a Protestant was thought,
Matters by him so cunningly were wrought,
And carried on; but when he came to fall,
All things were plain and bare-facit unto all;
For the next King his Visage did lay down,
And publicly himself a Papist own;
And I likewise more clearly did espy
My dreadful danger then approaching nigh:
The Popish Plot under a Cloud was hid,
(And a Sham Plot contrived in its stead.)
Though owned by three Successive Parliaments;
•
et all's denied by Romish Innocents,
•
hose Jesuits who hanged for Treason were,
Themselves free from all guilt or crime declare,
〈◊〉
th' unborn Child; nor is this strange, since they
〈◊〉
Dispensation have, That they may say
Whatever will preserve their Cause from blame,
And Holy Church secure from her just shame.
1685. Therefore is Dr.
Oats
brought on the Stage,
•
egraded and exposed to brutish rage,
They on his Back their cruel strokes do lay,
Whereby their Hellish Plot they stifle may;
•
et let them whip and lash him till he die,
And practice all their Romish cruelty,
•
one of his Evidence he can deny.
'It is to his Honor and Immortal praise,
And to his name it will high Trophies raise.
Those many hundred stripes laid on by
Rome
Are as so many Monuments become,
More great and lasting than a Marble Tomb.
Poor
Dangerfield!
courageous and bold,
Whom
Rome
's Incendiaries never could
By horrid threats or subtle flattery,
Prevail upon to gainsay, or deny
What he of their Intrigues did testify.
Unto a cruel whipping they him doom,
Which yet could not his Fortitude overcome.
'T would pierce ones Heart to think what miseries
He suffered from his bloody Enemies;
And though perhaps not well prepared to die,
Yet he must fall by
Romish
Tyranny,
A Villain in the midst of all his pain,
Stabbing his tender Eye out with a Cane,
Which piercit so deep he in great torments lay,
That never ceased, till Death took him away.
The Fence b'ing thus thrown down the ravenous Beasts
Rush in, and of poor Innocents make Feasts.
Wild Boars and Bears, yea Wolves and Tigers, strive
All to destroy, and leave no Lambs alive.
Religion, Laws, though all good men's great care,
Yea, and men's precious Lives, they did not spare;
That
England
seemed as if it were become
A Scene of misery, and a prey to
Rome.
And what could
Zion
do? Alas, poor I
Bewail'd my state, but saw no comfort nigh;
Yea, my poor Children about me hung,
B'ing hardly able to endure the wrong,
And sharp Assaults of those fierce Fiends of Hell,
Yet knew not how their malice to repel.
About this time in the' West there did appear
Some unto whom their Country was most dear,
Striving to free it; but mistook the time,
And Person too, who Landed then at
Lime:
A Man beloved; but not the Instrument
God chosen had; and now to us hath sent
To save our Land, and
Zion,
from that blow,
Which would have been to both an overthrow.
1685. But of my joys I must forbear to sing,
A doleful noise seems in my Ears to ring,
And still grows louder; sure 'tis from the West;
What's that I see? a cruel savage Beast!
A Man? no sure a Monster; though he came
Of Human Race, he donit deserve that name,
A cursed Spirit of th' Infernal Legion,
A Lord Chief Justice of the Lower Region.
I cannot rest, hot struggling rage aspires,
And fills my Free-born Soul with Noble Fires.
My Muse soars high, and now she doth despise
What e're below attempts to Tyrannize.
Ah! but again she faints; how shall I tell
What to those poor mistaken Souls befell.
The dismal news of Rapine, Spoil, and Blood
Shed in those Parts, which ran even like a Flood,
Works strange Effects in my afflicted Soul,
For grief my Bowels do within me roll.
In biting Satyr I could even contemn,
That Villanous Judge who Innocents did condemn;
Who on the Bench did naught but what he knew
Would gratify the bloody Popish Crew.
Though nature seems assistance to refuse,
Revenge and Anger both inspire my Muse.
Shall the Wretch live? why is he spared so long?
Justice seems to complain of having wrong;
Th' Infernai Daemons, angry seem to say,
Dead or alive we him will fetch away,
And at his stay they all seem to repine,
That to their vengeance we donit him resign.
But Ah! his Blood can never recompense
His ruining so many Innocents.
And it may seem the wonder of the time,
And some are apt to think, may be a crime,
That we no more regard their memory,
Who for their Countries welfare dared to die.
Poor Hearts! who seeing we were drawing nigh
To Vassalage and ROMISH Tyranny,
Resolv'd to save Religion and the Laws,
But mist; and fell into this Tigers Claws,
Whose mind upon the prey was wholly bent,
Pitying none, though never so Innocent;
b
••
like an hungry Wolf, or furious Bear
Without remorse the harmless Lambs did tear.
No time of preparation would he give
To many; nor Petitions would receive.
Nor would he h
•
a
•
their Wives and Children's cry,
But sco
•
t and laughed at them in
•
isery;
And though they pity begged with sighs and groans,
He was relentless to their tears and moans,
Beg'd that distressed Widows he will not make,
But save their Husbands lives for Jesus sake.
•
t being plain, most of those who were there,
Designed well, though taken in a snare.
But with what rage did he upon them fall,
Swearing,
He'd make examples of 'um all,
Cry'd,
On that Sign-p
•
st take and hang them up,
The Rogues shall all taste of this bitter Cup:
Whereby this bloody Wretch destroyed more
In a few Weeks, than
Bonner
did before
In full three years, many as faithful men
As suffered by Popish fury then.
He hanged 'um up by two, by three, by seven,
Whose Blood aloud for vengeance cries to Heaven.
Their Bodies likewise cut to pieces were,
Their Quarters hanged o'th' Hedges here and there▪
Their Flesh was given to be Meat for Crows,
And all because they Antichrist oppose;
And were resolved never to bend the Knee
To Images, nor turn to Popery;
Nor ever Slaves or Vassals to become
Unto the Pope, and Scarlet Whore of
Rome;
Whom Christ commands (
his Saints, so to reward
As she has done to them
) in's Holy Word.
Their ends were right, but they mistook their call,
And therefore God did suffer them to fall;
They did disdain those Yokes with generous scorn,
Which were by other servile Spirits born.
'They saw the threatening Storm approach from far,
'Fearing a thousand mischiefs worse than War,
'And therefore rushing on th' impetuous waves,
'Would rather die like Men than live like Slaves.
'To save Me and the Land they bravely tried,
'Fail'd in th' attempt, and then as bravely died.
'In vain would envious Clouds their Fame obscure,
'Which to Eternal Ages shall endure.
'If ill designs some to the Battle drew,
'Must all be scandalized for a few?
'If fawning Traitors in their Councils sat
''It is base to mock, rather lament their Fate.
'Though Heaven for
England
's Sins refuse to bless
'Their great Design with the desired success,
''It is an unequal, brutish Argument,
'Always to judge the cause by the event;
'Thus the unthinking giddy multitude,
'An Innocent may Criminal conclude.
But woe to those who in cold Blood did kill,
And thereby did their own revenge fulfil.
The Highways like a Slaughter-house became,
Or bloody Shambles, to their Enemies shame;
What multitudes of men did they destroy
And hang on Trees, which did so much annoy
The People round about, it made them cry,
O Lord defend us from
Rome'
s cruelty.
But this Relation gives me little ease,
I must some other way seek to appease
My overflowing Passion; therefore I
Some of those Hero's Names cannot pass by
Until I drop some tears upon their Hearse,
That the next Age may mourn for them in Verse.
Brave Colonel
Holmes,
Wise, Valiant and Sincere,
Who didst to
Zion
true affection bear,
Thy worthy Name shall not forgotten be,
But shall recorded be in History
To after Ages; nor can thy Arrears
Be duly paid without a Flood of tears.
Great Soul! thy Life thou seemedst to despise,
Rather than ask it of thine Enemies.
Much less didst thou in any sort incline
Others to charge, to save that Life of thine.
How didst thou grieve and publicly bewail
Thy undertaking should
so strangely fail?
But yet Prophetically didst Divine,
It would revive again in little time,
Though by what means it brought about should be,
It was impossible thou couldst then fore-see,
And thy Prediction now is come to pass,
Though by thy Foes it then contemned was.
And now the sad Spectators wondering saw,
The Horses long refuse the Sledge to draw;
The poor dumb Beasts by Heavens Instinct are
Made sharp Reprovers, whilst the lash they bear;
And seem to say,
These men are innocent,
They must not die, God will not give consent,
And therefore he doth strangely us restrain
From drawing them, though lashed and lashed again.
What other voice there was I cannot see
In this amazing wondrous Prodigy.
Yet all these warnings from the Foe are hid,
For die they must, and die they also did;
Although on foot to slaughter they must drudge,
To gratify a most Tyrannical Judge.
Nor did the Gallant Father fall alone,
He in the Cause lost a Religious Son.
Poor Captain
Holmes,
few young men like to thee,
Did hazard all to set their Country free
From
Rome
's cursed Yoke, and cruel Slavery.
The next Great Worthy 'mongst the vanquished Host
Which in that hour of darkness I have lost,
A Preacher was, indu'd with Holy Art,
Who did dissolve the Stone in many a Heart,
His name was
Lark;
O come my Children now,
Pay him those tears which he laid out for you;
Ah! must he fall by Fate? Ah! must he yield?
His Life up too? but why not in the Field?
Must
Sampson
fall by the
Philistines
hand
Who from their Bondage strove to save the Land?
Well! by thy death thou hast prevailed so,
Thou hastenedst their utter overthrow,
And yet I cannot but lament to think
Of what a bitter Cup thy Flock do drink.
My loss of thee is more than loss of Ten,
Though they might be sober Religious men:
When Death thus with his hands lays hold upon
The Pillars of the House, the Building's gone,
Unless God in his Mercy instantly
Raise others up their places to supply:
But Ah! how many die? how few appear
Them to succeed, and their great weight to bear.
In Jesus Christ's own Harvest in this Nation,
(which now seems white) there's cause of Lamentation.
A Chariot and an Horseman I have lost,
But he's above, incampt in the' Heavenly Host.
Have you not seen an early rising
Lark
Mounting aloft, making the Sun her mark?
Lo here's a
Lark
that soar'd up higher, higher;
Till he had sung himself into Heavens Choir.
From Earth to Heaven he went, and in a trice
His Soul ascended into Paradise.
Now stop mine Eyes, for fear your Floods should fail,
And I want tears for all I must bewail;
But yet I need not doubt; Springs I espy,
Yea Fountains, which will give a fresh supply
For two young Plants, who both sprang from one Stem,
Belov'd of God, I hope, as well as men.
Dear
Hewlins,
of what use might you have been,
If you to spare th' Almighty good had seen?
What cruel Tyrants had we lately here,
That two such tender Branches would not spare?
But when I think, of Grace that they had store,
And with what patience they their Sufferings bore,
It gives such comfort I can weep no more.
What Testimony did they leave behind,
Of that sweet joy which they in Christ did find?
When wicked men all pity do deny,
Our Savior to compassion's mo
•
'd thereby;
And doubtless they are placit in that High Sphere,
Where th' Spirits of Just Men Triumphant are.
Ah me! Alas! what means this Sea of Blood?
Oh! See, see, see, it breaks forth like a Flood.
Must
Walcot, Bateman, Ayliff, Ansly
too
Be all forgot, are no sighs to them due?
No, no, that must not be; I am drenched in tears,
To hear this cry of Blood sound in mine Ears.
But lo! another Stream issues amain,
My sinking Spirits, Lord, with speed sustain.
Poor
Nelthrop
's gone too, and the Lady
Lisle;
Nay more, the Gallant Noble Lord
Argile.
Hath
Scotland
bred a greater Man than he?
Of Noble Birth, and Ancient Pedigree.
No danger could his High-born Soul restrain,
He strove his Countries Liberty t' obtain.
And it to free from
Romish
Usurpation,
Beyond most of the Nobles in that Nation;
For which his Enemies many snares did lay,
Both his Estate and Life to take away,
Who only did design Tranquillity
To th' State; and to secureit from Slavery.
Were I but able I'd advance his Praise,
And with high strains of grief his Glory raise.
A Nobleman, Just, Pious, Valiant, Wise,
Able for Counsel, or for Enterprize;
Fit to set
Cato
Copies if alive,
Whose sharp discerning Judgment soon could dive
Into their Plots, though laid as deep as Hell;
But missing his Design, our Statesman fell.
Success sometimes does not the Wise attend,
The most Sagacious sometimes miss the end
They aim at; and yet may not be in the' wrong;
The Race is not to th' swift, nor to the strong
The Battle is not always;
and we see
This Scripture Proverb was made good in thee.
Farewell
Argile!
my weeping Muse shall burn
Her withered Laurel, at thy mournful Urn;
Contemn a Monument, and scorn a Stone;
Marbles have flaws, and must good men have none?
But gone he is; drop tears my Children all,
And mourn, because that day a Prince did fall:
Though he be gone, his Honor shall not die,
My Children shall preserve his Memory.
Undaunted
Rumbold
is the next that I
Register in my mournful Elegy,
He both Couragious and Religious was,
Whose Zeal for's Countries Freedom did surpass
Most others; and although he then did lie
Under the scandal and the infamy
Of secretly conspiring how to slay
His Sovereign Lord in a vile treacherous way,
Which he denied, and did abominate,
When his last Breath he yielded up to Fate
So wounded, that two Deaths he seemed to die:
Tears drop again, mine Eyes I cannot dry,
When I observe the
Babylonish
Train,
Strive all these worthy Men's repute to stain
With Lies, false Slanders, and black Calumny,
That they unpitied by all might die.
But to my comfort, I now hope the day
Is come, will wipe all their reproach away;
That whilst their Souls Triumphing are in Glory,
Their Fame will cleared be in future Story;
And that to all good Men their Memory
Will precious be to all Posterity.
But now my Muse back to the West must go,
And tell what there the Enemy more did do,
Where cause of grief be sure I cannot lack.
Brave
Patchel
next appears with Captain
Blake;
And though I have great store of tears let fall,
Yet their sad Fate aloud on me doth call
To draw the Sluces up, and yet once more
From my wet Eyes fresh Floods of tears to pour;
For I perceive whole Troops together come
Of
Western
Sufferers, crying,
Pray make room;
Why must our names be buried in the Croud
?
And all our worth be veiled in a Cloud
Of dark Oblivion
?
Must we always lie
Under an Odium of the blackest die
?
Is nothing due unto our mangled Clay
?
Will none strive our reproach to roll away
?
Can you so partial be
?
What not a tear
For us to whom Liberty was so dear
?
Do you disdain to speak in our defense,
Because some were of no great Eminence
?
Was not our Blood as dear to us as theirs,
Whose death you do bewail with bitter tears
?
A lust our mean dust be slightly trampled on,
And disregarded without sigh or groan
?
Ah! Must we ever, ever be forgot
?
And must our names like wicked Persons rot
?
No, no, Great Souls! I equally resent
The sad misfortune of each Innocent;
And though some (not for want of Ignorance)
Cry 'gainst your Prince your Arms you did advance;
Yet your Allegiance sure could never bind
Your hands, that when
Rome's
power had undermin'd
The Constitution, thereby to o'rethrow
The Government, yet you must nothing do.
Must every man sit still, and quiet be?
And Law, Religion, Life in Jeopardy;
The contrary Jehovah hath made out,
And thereby our Salvation's brought about.
Yet Non-resistance is our duty still,
When Princes Rule by Law; but not by Will.
When Magistrates pursue that gracious end,
God by advancing of them did intend;
Then to resist them is a horrid thing,
And God to shame will all such Rebels bring.
But must Superiors be submitted to,
When they contrive to ruin and undo
Their faithful Subjects, and o'return the State,
And their most sacred Oaths do violate?
Is Government ordained to destroy,
Or to preserve the Rights that Men enjoy?
Suppose a Father should be led away,
T' attempt the Mothers Life, and strive to slay
His Innocent Children; and to those adhere,
Who unto them malicious Enemies were:
In such a case as this the Children sure,
Their Mothers, and their own Lives may secure.
Ought they not then their Fathers hands to bind,
So to prevent the mischief he designed?
Donit Nature teach a Man to save his Life
From th' Treachery of Father, Child, or Wife?
Must Servants yield, and passively consent
Their Master from their Bones the Flesh should rent
Is it a crime if they would not this endure,
But seek a better Master to procure?
Self-preservation 'twas that moved you,
(Fore-seeing what was ready to insue,)
To seek such ways to save yourselves and me,
Which you thought Just, and hoped would prosperous be
And though God did Success to you deny,
Yet you might act with all Integrity;
Which Heaven doth seem to Crown now with Applause,
And to Assert the Justice of your Cause.
Since 'twas ordained that spot should be the Scene
Where the Cause died, there to reviveit agen:
And though for what you therein were misled
I did lament, and many tears have shed;
Yet I must vindicate you from the wrong
You suffered have by many a viperous Tongue;
And will more of your worthy names revive,
Though at your slips I never will connive.
Dear
Hicks,
shall slanderous mouths seek to defame,
And to calumniate so sweet a name?
Ah! shall detracting malice go about
With its rude Breath to blow thy Taper out?
Well! let them all their full-mouthed Bellows puff,
It is their Breath that stinks, and not thy snuff.
Oh what a judgment 'twere if such as they
Should but allow thy actions, and betray
Th' endangered name by their malign applause
To good opinion; that were a just cause
Of grief indeed; but to be made the Story
Of such false Tongues, Great Soul! it is thy Glory.
Ah! is he dead? did his poor Body fall
By th' rage of man? tears cannot him recall.
Yet might not then have died, but his day
Might have been lengthened, had he known the way
To Life and Peace which God hath since found out,
And for our safety, strangely brought about,
The day he longed for his Eyes had seen
If some things had, and some things had not been.
What he saw past, Heavens Eye fore-saw to come;
God saw how that contingent act should sum
The total of his days; His All-seeing Eye
(Though his own could not) saw that he should die
That very fatal hour, yet saw his death
Not so, so necessary, but his Breath
Might have been spared to a longer date
Had he embraced this, not taken that.
Had not a furious Judge condemned thee,
Void of all pity and humanity,
Thou mightest have lived and seen with joyful Eyes
That done, for which thou fell'st a Sacrifice;
Yet that God orders all things right w'are sure;
The Death of some may Life to more procure.
But here's just cause of further Lamentation,
For one we scarce can equal in the Nation.
A worthy Preacher, who could not comply
With what his Conscience could not justify.
But hark how th' Enemy doth scoff and jear,
That a Dissenter's taken in the snare.
A better Sacrifice there could not come,
To please the Cannibals of Bloody
Rome,
Who do believe there is no Dish so good,
As a
John the Baptist
's Head served up in Blood.
But he's a Rebel;
Ay! that, that's the cry;
Now as to that, let's weigh impartially
His dying words, now printed, which relate
He did believe
Monmouth
Legitimate,
Or Lawful Son of
Charles,
or else that he
Would never have acted in the least degree
In that design, and we may likewise find
The rest in general were of that mind;
And though they were mistaken, let's take care
Not to asperse what dying men declare.
But sober thoughts of them still to retain,
And not with Obloquy their Memory stain.
But lo! a multitude of Sufferers more
(Whose Blood for vengeance cries,) stand at the door
Open to them; my Muse; Ah! do but see
What a great number of them still there be;
Now they are come, 'tis fit I first make room
For the most gallant generous
Battiscombe:
A worthy Person of a great Estate,
Although he was cut off by cruel Fate.
The wretched Judge allured him to accuse
Some other Gentlemen, which he did refuse
With scorn; for he abhor'd his Life to buy
By such base and unmanly treachery.
Wen he o'th' Ladder was he seemed to smile;
Saying, He hoped in a little while
He should enjoy a Crown and Diadem
Of Glory in the New
Jerusalem;
That from a Land of misery and woe
To the Celestial Paradise he should go.
Hamling
fell too, nor was his Innocence
Before so vile a Judge, the least defense
Against the Crimes wherewith they charged him,
Though altogether free from any Crime;
Who neither was in Arms, nor did assist
Any that were; nor any who did List
Themselves for
Monmouth;
nay he did advise
His Son not to engage, but to be wise,
And unto God's dispose leave everything,
Who in due Season would Deliverance bring.
But he was a Dissenter, and for this
He must not live; for he accused is
By two such Rascals as did never care
Whether 'twere truth or falsehood they did Swear;
But with the Judges humor would comply,
And by such Evidence this man must die.
Next Mr.
Brag
a Man of good Descent,
And well known to be wholly innocent;
Who though a Lawyer, yet no Law could have
Whereby his Life from violence to save.
When Law and Justice both over-ruled were,
And Judge and Jury too resolved to steer
By the false Compass of the Princes will,
In vain was the most Learned Lawyers skill;
None were secure, neither the weak nor strong:
Will was made Law whether 'twere right or wrong.
The Land-mark was removed, all Common laid;
And all our
English
Liberties betrayed.
But time will fail me, therefore I will proceed,
And not forget
Smith, Rose,
and
Joseph Speed,
And
Evans
too; shall such a man as he
Fall basely, and not draw a tear from me?
Then
Madder, Kid,
young
Jenkins
too all bled,
Who for his Youth ought to be pitied;
With Doctor
Temple, Spark,
and Captain
Lisle
Kill'd in cold Blood, their malice was so vile;
And many hundred others who there fell
So barbarously, there's scarce a Parallel
Of Stirs that were in any former Reign,
Where so much cruelty was; and leaves a stain
Upon that time, will never be wiped away
Until the World and all things else decay.
But notwithstanding so much Blood was shed,
Some hundreds of poor Souls were banished;
Bereaved of their Wives and Children dear,
And into Forreign Countries driven were,
And there exposed to all misery,
And the severities of Slavery.
The Husband separated from the Wife,
Depriv'd of all the joys of human Life.
Their Goods, and their Estates all forfeited,
And nothing left wherewith to buy them Bread.
But should I all their miseries recount,
They to a mighty number would amount;
Yet now Great
Nassaw
's settled on the Throne,
We do not doubt but he will regard their moan;
That on their sorrows he will cast his Eyes,
And of his Princely goodness, ease their cries.
But stay my Muse, for here's more cause of grief,
And I have still more cause of Heavens relief,
For now alas! two Martyrs I espy,
On whom were acted a sad Tragedy.
The one a Person of great worth and name,
A Citizen of
London
of much Fame,
Who by Time serving wretches that would do
What e're might please the Factious Romish Crew.
Was doomed to death by villanous Evidence,
Though for himself he made a just defense.
Alderman
Cornish
was this worthy man
That thus unjustly suffered. Who now can
Forbear to weep? or can forbear to tell
What to a pious woman then befell?
Poor Mistress
Gaunt,
most dear thou wast to me,
Few of thy Sex ever excelled thee
••
Zeal, in Knowledge, or in Charity,
Who wast condemned a cruel death to die,
Cause thou relievedst men in misery.
These two I must bewail, who in one day
By
Romish
Treachery were swept away;
'Gainst whom these Miscreants malice did appear,
'Though altogether innocent and clear;
As doubtless we shall find apparently,
When their Case stated is impartially.
As to the woman 'twill be shown ere long.
That many ways she suffered much wrong,
Who by a Jury at
H
••
ks-Hall
was freed,
Yet at th'
Old-Bailey
'gainst her they proceed;
A
London
Jury took her Life away,
Which they may answer for another day.
On the same day these worthy Christians fell,
Most of us may remember very well.
That God's displeasure ere that day was done
Seem'd very evident to everyone
That his works doth observe, and mind his hand
In his strange operations in the Land.
O come ye Angels, lend your glorious Style!
Created Beings to lament a while.
Ye blessed Hosts that sing
Jehovah
's praise,
Assist my Muse in lamentable Phrase;
For now the City Streets even run with Blood
Of those Just men, who only sought our good.
Ah!
London,
let all future Ages see
Thy grief, that
Cornish
lost his Life in thee.
Could not their burning thee abate their rage?
Nor their inslaving thee their wrath asswage?
Could not Great
Russel
's death them mollify?
Nor
Essex
's murder stop their cruelty?
Would not th' inthralling of Great
Britain
do,
Religion and Liberty to o'rethrow?
Hast thou not many years triumphed in Blood,
Undoing thousands who most faithful stood
Unto their Countries Interest, venturing all,
The Common-weal might not to ruin fall?
Oh cursed
Rome
! thou wilt soon thy measure fill,
Thy wickedness grows and increases still;
Religion's shame, and all the Worlds great curse,
Why dost thou still proceed from bad to worse?
And now, my Muse, methinks we shanit do right
To worthy
Cornish,
if we seem to slight
His memory, by a short
Encomium
To whom so much is due; therefore let's come,
And in a few lines more expatiate
Upon the circumstances of his Fate.
Ah!
London, London,
did it not surprise?
Couldst thou behold poor
Cornish
with dry Eyes,
Hang'd like a Caitiff on a cursed Tree,
And acted in the very midst of thee?
To good men 'twas a grievous sight we know,
Though to some wretches 'twas a pleasing show.
A though with blushes Angels seemed to see
This horrid Act; and Heaven disturbed to be.
What cheerful looks this excellent Christian had,
•
s through the Streets he his last Journey made?
To that in triumph he did seem to go
To death, as if he certainly did know
That Angels thence would carry him to bliss,
And place him where no pain nor sorrow is,
To be a Courtier to the King of Kings,
•
eeding on joy that from Christ Jesus springs.
The Sun that Morning his bright Beams displays,
And sends upon the Earth his Golden Rays;
Smiling while those two Worthies here remain,
But seemed to frown as soon as they were slain.
The Heavens their mourning Garments do put on
As if they'd show, two Innocents were gone.
A Storm of Rain descends from that black Cloud
With dreadful Lightning, and with Thunder loud,
As if incensed Heaven were in a Flame,
And Christ were coming to dissolve the same;
Or that the Judge of Judges now was come
(With all his Saints) to give the World its Doom
And wronged
Cornish
should be tried again
By upright Jurors of that blessed Train.
And in white Robes of Righteousness appear
Before Heavens King, his innocence to clear.
Jehovah
's Trumpet sounding shook the Earth,
And to great Floods of Rain with Fire, gave Birth.
Heaven groaned in Thunder, and did weep in Shower
Which did continue fiercely many hours:
Nor do I wonder that God thundered so
When two such worthy Martyrs bled below;
And since the Heavens seem so apparently
To justify their Cause, why may not I?
But stay! no more of these, for I espy
Another Hero just before mine Eye;
Condemn'd a Prisoner ever to remain,
Who lay as dead, but now's revived again:
Brave
Johnson,
who cannot be omitted here,
A
••
ious Church-man, valiant and sincere:
A Man of Parts and Learning; a Divine
Who sought his Countries good as well as mine.
Ah! was he whipt? Must he too be a Taster
Of the sharp Rod like to his Blessed Master?
In vain would envious Clouds his Fame obscure,
Reproach to him doth still more praise procure.
His Lord and Master too, was scourged sore
For bearing Witness to the Truth before;
Why then do virulent Tongues attempt to stain
The solid Glory which his Soul did gain.
But yet 'tis strange the Mother should consent
Her Sons should suffer such sad punishment.
Wounds from a Friend strike deep; but when from Foes
We dis-regard, slight, and contemn their blows.
And since few others move in the defense
Of wounded Honor, and wronged Innocence;
I for the kindness which to thee I bear,
At thy sad Sufferings must drop a tear.
Had all come from a treacherous Enemy
It had not been so great an injury;
But to be wounded in the' House of thy Friends,
This, this all other cruelty transeends:
And then great Soul! to be degraded too
Was very hard to bear, but that you knew
This ofttimes is the way to Dignity,
And Honor doth succeed Humility.
BUT now alas! new griefs do me surround,
Groans from the North my mournful Soul confound,
My Muse must now take wing and swiftly fly,
To have a view of
Scotland
's misery.
Be silent and attend; you soon will hear,
Their dismal cries will penetrate your Ear.
The Sufferings of my Children here were bad,
But in that Nation they were far more sad;
No place more like to
France
man ever saw,
Where Arbitrary Power stood for Law.
Men of all Ranks were seized, and did lie
In noisome Jayls, yet knew no reason why;
And to ensnare them, swarms of cursed Spies
Abroad are sent under a false disguise,
Who strove t' incense them to dislike, and hate
The King, and all his Ministers of State:
And to extort some words from them, that so
They thereby might unwary Souls o'rethrow.
If they found any pious, just and good,
Then many snares were laid to suck their Blood,
By those vile Emissaries, who were sent
On purpose to entrap the Innocent,
Suborned Witnesses employed were,
Who for their wages anything would Swear,
Wh
••
eby M
••
s Lives, Estates and Honors too
Are all endangered; were they High or Low.
The Chiefest Peers, and Worthiest Patriots
Had many
〈◊〉
the most unhappy Lots;
Unless they'd be Debaucht, down they must go,
And suffer as the meanest Rebels do.
I
•
to God's Laws Men faithfully do stand,
And would not be Subject to the Kings command;
Refusing what their Conscience offends
Th' are judged,
To
Caesar
then to be no Friends.
Some Men they tried, and on that very day
Condemned, and their Lives were ta'ne away.
No Pray'rs nor Intercessions will they hear
A little time to grant them, to prepare
For Death; nay, they did impiously say,
Hell was too good for Rebels, such as they.
Yea, they made Law
•
the thoughts of men to reach,
Whom o
•
ill words or deeds none could impeach.
If of the Government they evil think,
They of Deaths bitter Cup are sure to drink.
Sometimes they wheedl'd them to a Confession,
Promising Life upon the same condition.
Come, come
(say they)
freely to us declare
What your conceptions of the Government are,
Speak what you think; sure you are not afraid,
Nor will disown what you so lately said
?
Dissemble not in matters of your Faith,
Since you remember what the Scripture saith,
That they who would not confess Christ Jesus here,
He will not own them when he does appear.
Subscribe to your Profession; you shall see
How very kind and merciful we'll be.
Speak man! and let's your Testimony have,
If you will both your Soul and Body save.
Thus do they mock them with Expostulations,
As Priests and Jesuits do in
Popish
Nations:
But all the time they hide their cruel hate,
While thus they craftily expostulate.
For in the Council Men concealed stood
To witness what they said, and shed their Blood;
And thus with them they dealt most treacherously,
And many of their Lives deprived thereby.
And when they came to die they beat a Drum,
Lest to the light their wickedness should come.
A very bad Cause sure, that could not bear
The dying words of those that Sufferers were;
But those that wary are, and would not accuse
Themselves of ought, they barbarously use
With Engines of most horrid cruelty
Tormenting them; they rather chose to die.
The torturing Boot, and burning Matches too,
They made these innocent Souls to undergo;
And after all were Sentenc'd unto death,
And villainously were deprived of Breath.
Some that were guiltless, yet were Sentenced
To lose their Ears, and then be Banished;
And after this again Examin'd were
Whether to their Opinions they adhere,
If so; a second Sentence doth succeed,
And they are instantly condemned to bleed.
Thus multitudes of Men and Families
Were ruined by such Barbarities,
Extravagant Fines, and long Imprisonment,
And all the Hellish ways
Rome
can invent
Were exercised severely on all those
Who Popery and Slavery durst oppose.
Yea, they not only took their Lives away,
But their good Name seek likewise to destroy,
By representing them as Mortal Foes
T' th' King, and that they did his Power oppose.
Thus was our Savior dealt with by the
Jews,
And thus did they his blest Apostles use;
Hoping, that by their heaping infamy
Upon good men, they would obnoxious be
Unto the Censure of the Mobile;
And by this their Infernal Policy
Induce them all Religion to decry;
Especially if they be Men of Name,
As many were whom they sought to defame;
And hereby thought all Piety to root out,
Their vile Intrigues with ease to bring about;
For when Men all Religion do defy,
They'll quickly suck in
Rome
's Idolatry.
Their wicked Laws good Men must not transgress,
Nay which is worse; they force them to profess,
And to declare,
They just and righteous are,
And fit to be obeyed;
yea they must Swear
They will defend them, and that Power too
That did Enact them;
which was hard to do.
There's one thing more that's grievous to relate,
Which shows their cruel and malicious hate.
That finding Legal Trials 'gainst them slow
And troublesome, they grant a power to
The rude ungovern'd Soldiers; so that they
Have power to challenge, and examine may
Whom they think fit, and Oaths likewise impose,
Scotland
never saw such Justices as those.
Yea they commanded and enjoined were
To put to death all such as would not Swear:
Yea if they would not answer the demands
Of these loud wretches; then into their hands
They fell, who most severely them did use;
The
French
Dragoons could them not worse abuse:
And in few weeks no less than Fifty died
Of those that their cursed Tyranny decry'd.
No Judge these Martyred Christians did condemn,
Neither did any Jury pass on them.
The Soldiers without cause destroyed them all,
Which doth aloud to Heaven for vengeance call:
They kill and slay without respect to Age
Or Sex; to gratify their brutish rage.
They raise an Army like to that in
France,
Their Arbitrary Power to advance;
And the Intrigues of
Rome
to carry on,
And this for
Scotland
s sorrows makes me moan.
Poor men Free Quarters must provide, or they
Are plundered, and all is swept away;
And many hundred sober Persons were
Inhumanely destroyed year after year.
No former Tyrant scarcely did invent
More Tortures than good men there under-went;
Which they must suffer, or must else defile
Their Consciences with their Opinions vile.
It seemed as if Inquisitors were come
To
Scotland
now from
Spain,
or else from
Rome.
Ah! poor enslaved Land, Ah! must thou be
The Scene of Popish Pride and Cruelty?
Thy Magistrates are ravening Wolves become,
Of
Esau
's Race, fit Instruments for
Rome.
Thy Noble Patriots mourn, thy Priests are sad;
Thy
Kirk
has lost that Glory which she had.
'It is good for thee to weigh, and lay to Heart
What caused these woes, under which thou dost smart.
Hast thou not been too hot, and too severe,
And hence are forced such miseries now to bear?
Learn wisdom then, and mild and gentle be,
Since God doth never love severity.
If ever he return to thee again,
Let not thy sharpness all thy glory stain.
Let such who cannot unite and join with thee
Have equal Love, and Christian Liberty;
Or else at length a fiercer Storm may come,
Than what thou hast already had from
Rome.
Farewell, poor
Scotland,
for I must be gone;
And now methinks I hear poor
Ireland
groan:
With a sad Heart I take my leave of thee,
And what is doing there resolve to see.
AH dismal sight!—What! all in Popish hands,
Not one good Protestant that here commands?
Must Wolves be Keepers of my harmless Sheep?
Take heed, poor Souls! take heed, and do not sleep.
Ah! now I see what the King did intend;
Is this the love and kindness of a Friend?
Did he pretend, all should have equal share
Of Trust and Honor? how does this appear?
Yet let their Honor go; if that were all
I should not care; but when to mind I call
The sad and dismal year of Forty One;
And what by
Irish Papists
then was done.
I cannot think my Children safe to be,
Whilst only such are in Authority.
Isit fit such bloody Butchers should bear sway,
Whose Hearts were never changed to this day.
Here's not a Constable, even so mean a place,
But what is of the
Irish Popish
Race.
I fear (dear Children) if God donit appear,
Your utter ruin now approaches near.
I cannot but lament when I behold
These hungry Lions compassing my Fold:
If Heaven donit them deter, and soon prevent,
You will ere long be all in pieces rent.
But yet cheer up, I long expected have
The Lion of the North
will come to save
Both me and mine, and will great Wonders do,
Protecting of these Lands from overthrow.
The
Chicken of the Eagle
will appear,
And vanquish all my Foes both far and near;
When you of him have Tidings, weep no more,
For your Redemption then is at the door.
I cannot stay longer; here my Eye doth glance,
To pity my poor Children too in
France:
But should I dive into their State, I fear
I should want strength their miseries to bear.
BUT other grounds of grief are in mine Eye,
'Which cause my sorrows to advance so high,
'That my over-burden'd Heart can scarce express
'The nature of my inward heaviness.
Zion's
Friend.
Zion,
thy sad and bitter lamentation,
Does move my very Heart unto compassion;
But say, what cause does aggravate your fears,
And thus provokes to further cries and tears.
Zion.
Oh if
my Head were waters,
and each Eye
A Springing
Fountain
I could drein 'em dry.
I am steep'd in
brackish Floods,
nay almost drowned
To see how
Sin does everywhere abound.
This was my cry and moan Eight years ago,
And worse since that I find these evils grow;
therefore must repeat them over again,
For these alas do
England
's Glory stain,
And bring reproach likewise on my blest name,
The grief of Heaven, and my Children's shame.
`Where-e▪re I am, I naught can see or hear,
But that which doth my Soul in pieces tear.
It breaks my Heart that
England
thus should be
A
Scene
for th'
Actors
of Debauchery.
What
perpetrations
of the
blackest
Crimes
Appear not
bare-faced
in our present times?
Though God (incensed) has fearful
Judgments
sent
To humble men, and move them to repent;
Yet they proceed in foul impenitence,
And aggravate their horrid insolence;
Seeming to bid defiance unto Heaven,
Scorning to take the dreadful
warnings
given▪
'The sweeping
Plague
(that Messenger of wrath)
'In such as scaped sm
•
ll Reformation hath
'Produc'd! nor has the desolating
Fire
'(A perfect token of God's flaming
Ire,
)
'Burnt up the
Cities Pride;
'twas great before,
'And now it seems to multiply much more.
'Fantastick
Garbs
and
Antick
Modes declare,
'How much from Pride their Souls reformed are.
'Should any Women have such Children Born
'With such Attire as on their Heads are worn,
'Would it not them affright and terrify?
'God may do so it you donit speedily
'Reform your Lives, and cast your Fashions off,
'Which make ill men at you revile and scoff.
'Though
Want,
though
Poverty,
and loss of
Trade
'Do many Men and Families invade;
'Yet do they vaunt in
Pride
and
Luxury,
'As they had
Mines
of Treasure lying by.
'Some know not what to
eat,
nor how to
go,
'Yet on the
Poor
will no compassion show.
'(Whose unregarded
cries,
unheeded
moans,
'Whose unreliev'd
distress,
unpity'd
groans,
'Can scarce extort a Mite) such do not grudge
'To purchase Hell at dearest rates and drudge
'To please their brutish Lusts, who void of measure,
'Consume Estates to
wantonize
in pleasure;
'Tumbling in Riot (as proud
Dives
sat)
'Whilst
Lazarus
lies starving at the Gate.
A Complaint against Oaths.
VOlleys of
Oaths
with horrid Blasphemy,
And dreadful Cursings in mine Ears do cry.
Mark but our impious Gallants when they meet,
Observe the Mode, how they each other greet;
What new
coin'd
Oaths? what modish
Execrations
?
What Damning, Sinking, horrid Imprecations
Do they disgorge? the Serpents fiery hiss
That belches Sulphur from the black Abyss
Can scarce out-do this Ranting Tribe, who count
The Man Genteel that is most Paramount
In wickedness; he that Blasphemes aloud.
Christ's Blood and Wounds,
a Courtier's Alamode.
How can th' abused Earth but gape again,
To swallow quick, vile wretches so profane?
How can Heavens great Artillery so long
Forbear the Treasons of a Mortal Tongue?
Jehovah
's Attributes so vilely used,
His Sacred Essence, and his Name abused.
Fresh Blasphemies they mint, new Curses frame,
And sins that never had before a name
Graduates in Courtship are prefer'd, who 'ave made
Most quick proficience in the Hellish Trade:
That Rant and Roar, Revel and Domineer,
As if nor God, nor Devil they did fear.
Approaching dangers cannot disturb their pleasure,
But still they sin until they fill their measure.
Judgments defer'd in evil makes them bold,
Despising such by whom they are control'd;
As if th' avenging hand their Lives did spare,
Thus to provoke him without dread or fear.
But poor Blasphemer, though thou art past by,
'It is not toindulge thee in iniquity.
Think'st thou the God of purity does like
Such ways, because he yet forbears to strike?
Dost think a gloomy interposing Cloud,
From God's All-searching Eye can be thy shroud?
Or that because he is inthron'd on high,
Thy deeds of darkness he cannot espy?
Or since his Judgments are so long delayed,
Wilt thou proceed, and be no whit afraid?
Wilt thou his patience without end abuse,
Slight true Repentance, and his Grace refuse?
If so, thy Judgment hastens—for a Rod
Will quickly reach thee from an angry God,
Because of Oaths the Land
does
greatly mourn,
For which my Soul much inward grief has born.
A Complaint against Drunkenness.
DOst thou not see how filthy Drunkenness
Does reign in City, and in Villages?
Some reel and wallow in the Streets like Swine,
Whilst others boast their strength in drinking Wine;
Although to such God doth denounce a curse,
They mind it not, but still grow worse and worse:
Dread not Examples of God's wrath at all,
Nor what to Drunkards does so oft befall:
Although God's Word has fearful warnings given,
That Drunkards never shall inherit Heaven,
But that their Lot shall with damned Spirits be
In Chains of darkness to Eternity.
They Drink, Carouse, and waste their jolly Breath
Upon the brink of
Everlasting death.
What-e're ensues, they are resolved they will
Carouse full Goblets, and be filthy still.
Thus men by
Pride,
by
Oaths,
by
Worldliness,
By daily swallowing Liquor to Excess
Defile the Land, and do the Lord provoke,
To cause his vengeance on the Land to smoke.
Sin sets the door wide open, and makes way
For all the sorrows of th' approaching day,
These are in part the cause of
England's
woe,
And will (if Grace prevents not) it undo:
But there are other heinous Sins behind,
Which pierce my Bowels, and perplex my Mind.
A Complaint against Whoredom and Adultery.
DID filthy
Lust
and
Whoredom
ever rage
With more success than in the present Age?
Abominations of so vile a name,
That their bare mention is indeed a shame.
What Sin more hateful in
Jehovah
's Eye,
Than this of
Whoredom
and
Adultery
?
'It is ranked as chief, and marches in the Van
Of all the gross Debaucheries of Man,
In those black Muster-Rolls God does Record,
Of grand offenses in his holy Word;
What more affronts the
second Table
? or
Provokes the Lord? No fitter Metaphor
Could be produced t' express
Idolatry,
Than that abhorred name
Adultery.
Besides the terrors of God's fiery wrath,
Which judges such to Everlasting death;
On Earth amongst all sober men, they gain
So vile a blot, so infamous a stain,
That all the waters in the Sea can never
Wipe off, nor can it be forgot forever.
The loud Embraces of Lascivious Dames
Will rot their Bones, breed Cankers in their
names,
Beget consumption in Estate and Purse,
Produce destruction, and a certain curse:
The common ends that such arrive unto
Are foul Diseases, Beggary and Woe.
They're sottish Fools (says wise
Demosthenes
)
That buy Repentance at such rates as these:
Who S
•
n to please an Enemy, that strives
To damn their Souls, and rob them of their Lives.
Appointed such to an immediate Death.
Would m
•
n but judge it as their greatest Foe,
They'd never love nor hug it as they do.
Each Sex is bad, but Women seem to be
The very Brokers of Immodesty;
Which makes that passage to be born in mind,
A Wise and virtuous Woman who can find
?
Your City Dames
and
Ladies
are on Fire
With wanton Passion, and unchaste Desire,
Providing Meats on purpose to inflame
Their pampered Gallants to their wonted shame.
Bare Breasts and naked Necks a Harlots Dress,
Are strong Temptations unto wickedness.
All other Sins (th' Apostle does declare)
Which men commit without the Body are:
But this abominable Act alone,
Against his Body by a man is done.
Marriage to all, the undefiled Bed,
Is honorable;
he that will may Wed,
But Whoremongers God judges; and they shall
Be cast into the Lake, both great and small,
The
Wiseman
calls th'
Adulterer a Fool,
And well he may, for he destroys his Soul.
No Fools like them; though branded still they show
The marks of folly, wheresoe're they go.
O how th' unclean and brutish man exceeds
In erior Sinners in reproachful deeds!
My grievances are many, and my fear
Is more than my distressed Soul can bear:
My panting Breast and akeing Heart is sad,
To think of what I further have to add.
A Complaint against Atheism.
BUT O amazing Master-piece of wonder!
That's like to rend my very Heart asunder,
When I consider that an Age of Light
Produces Monsters blacker than the Night:
A cursed Tribe
of wretched
Atheists
dare
Without all
dread
and
reverential fear,
Strike at the
Essence
of the
Great Jehove,
And all the
Glories
that reside Above,
As if mere
fancies of a cloudy Brain,
And all
Religion
an
Intrigue
of
Man:
That dare pronounce all
Evangelic Law.
A trick of State
to keep the World in awe,
Creating Idols in their Brains; that even
Make
mocks of Hell,
and a mere
scorn of Heaven.
But can such
fancies
challenge an abode
Within your Heart
to dis-believe a God
?
On th'
Universal Fabric
cast an Eye,
The Sea, the Earth, and the expanded Sky:
Can so sublime illustrious an
Effect
Be formed without a Glorious
Architect
?
If Reason be your Rule, true Logicks Laws
Pronounce
Effects
resulting from a
Cause,
Whose order leads us to Infinity,
Sure Arguments of a Divinity.
Created things must a Creator have;
And that Begetter who first
Being
gave
Unto all
Essences
cannot be
Begot;
He's therefore God, and other else is not.
This
causa prima,
without time or date,
We do believe could not himself Create,
And therefore hence we do conclude that he
Must have his
Essence
from Eternity.
Who can make
Phoebus
his swift course reverse?
Or Ballance in his Palm the Universe?
Who can the Ocean in a Sieve confine?
If none can doit then none can God define.
First Principles are beyond definition;
No Logic reaches at so high a Vision:
'It is unreveal'd to Reason, for no strain
Of lofty Metaphysics can contain
Those Mysteries; true Wisdom therefore hath
Commanded Reason to give room to Faith.
If what we see had not a first Creator,
Then 'tis its own immediate Operator;
If so, it Acts before it had a Being:
But such conclusions are too dis-agreeing
With Reasons Maxims: For all things that be,
May say they are their own Divinity,
If each can make itself, and that which can
Create itself, can so itself sustain
In infinitum,
and will never dissolve
It self; for Natures principal Resolve
Is, that no Essence will forbear to be,
If it can keep up its own Entity.
This strain of Atheistic Sophistry
Makes all of equal Independancy
Without Subordination: 'It is a Theme,
Without inferior, making all Supreme.
First CAUSE
supposes
time, and time
supposes
Some
second Acts
which
after-time
discloses.
So view their Series, you may trace them all
(As links in Chains) to their Original
The Great
JEHOVAH;
whose unfathom'd Glory
Is Emblem'd in the Universe before ye.
There is a thing in Man called
CONSCIENCE,
Which of his Actions gives clear Evidence,
Whether he likes or not that's ready still
To check the course of his disordered will:
It is Eccentrick to his sensual part,
Arraigns his words, his deeds, his very heart;
And if it finds they be irregular,
It does pursue them with continual War.
What can this just, this inward witness be,
But some bright Beam of a Divinity?
In former times was not
Jehovah
known
By Miracles which visibly were shown?
Can Reason brag that Causes natural
Could raise the dead? or that a Word can call
An
Intomb'd Carcase
to behold the Light?
Make
sound a Cripple
? give the
Blind
their
sight
?
If not, then surely it will follow hence,
That 'tis an
Act
of some
Omnipotence:
That such were done we have the
common Vote
Of
Pagans, Jews,
and all the
Men of Note,
Whose
Works
are Extant, whom we may believe,
Because they had no
int'rest to deceive.
Whence come those
Judgments
which you daily hear,
Of
wrath
and
vengeance
darted everywhere
Against
Prophaners
of that
Sacred Name
?
Whence come those
Arrows,
that
consuming Flame
Which terrifies the World? and whence the
Breath
That strikes
Blasphemers
with a
sudden Death
?
Which of these
rare Philosophers
can show
What makes the
spacious deep
to
Ebb
and
Flow
?
Let them produce their
Maxims,
if they can,
How
scattered Atoms can compose a Man
?
Who
brandishes
those
blazing Signs
of
wonder
?
Who
frights the Earth
with
rapid peals of Thunder
?
Who did defeat the
fatal Enterprize
Which
Rome
by
Devils Council
did devise?
Who sets the
Comets
in the
angry Sky,
Those
dismal Harbingers of misery
?
God does
himself
by many
ways
make known,
Fore-warning men
of what's a coming on:
Yet senseless Mortals
faulter more and more,
Though
hovering vengeance
threaten at the door,
Deceit, Soul-killing-Errors, Perjury,
Injustice, Murder, Theft, Hypocrisy,
Do so abound through our enlightened Isle,
That
Sodom
hardly e're appeared more vile.
A Complaint against Hypocrites.
I am not only Persecuted by
My
open Foes,
but
lurking Snakes
do lie
Within my Bosom, using all their Art
To seize my Vitals, and corrode my Heart.
Such
seeming Friends,
such
Traitors
in
disguise,
Are more malignant than
known Enemies:
For the Attaques of
these,
a man may Ward;
Those
unsuspected, stand within our Guard.
How many seem to reverence my name,
For worldly Ends, or to avoid the shame
Of Irreligion? frequently they go
To worship God, and so devout do show
As if mere
Saints;
but
Hypocrites
in grain,
Do all the while Intelligence maintain,
With my declared Foes, who proudly join,
And all their Politicks in one combine,
To root my name from off the very Earth,
And make provision that no more get Birth;
Betray'd by
middle
and by
low degrees,
But most of all by
Capital Grandees.
Such as my peace and safety should procure,
Contribute most to make me unsecure:
Such seem their
purpose
by soft
words
to smother;
So Boatsmen look one way, but row another.
Such perjured
Statesmen
have the Art to smile
Upon my
Face, but cut my Throat
the while.
But grant, dread Sovereign of the Universe,
That whilst I weep my grievances in Verse,
Thy
Zion'
s interest may not be betrayed
To
Rome,
by
Protestants
in
Masquerade.
O let me hear the joyful Trumpet sounded,
That does proclaim their
Babylon
confounded▪;
Rome
's black Militia is all up in Arms,
Annoying
Europe
in unusual swarms.
This critic moment they expect and hope,
To thrust
Me out,
and introduce a
Pope
To plague
this Noble Nation, that has been
A Wall, a Fort, a Counterscarp between
Their bawling Canons most impetuous shots,
And Forreign States,
that
countermines
their Plots.
The desp'rate Archers are aware of this,
They know that
England
the chief Bulwark is,
To check their growth: If they could make it sup
Th' invenom'd dregs of th' Antichristian Cup,
They judge it easy to subdue the rest
Of my
European
Gospel-interest.
But Oh! my melting, Soul-tormenting fears
Burst into sighs, and bubble into tears.
Observe the Heavens! view that dreadful mark
Of flaming vengeance that precedes the dark
Approach of night! can this vast
Comet
be
Ought but the Prologue of calamity?
Prodigious Meteors, blazing fiery Stars,
Are Heralds sent to menace open Wars
Against rebellious and polluted Coasts,
By him who is the mighty Lord of Hosts.
Awake O
England! this Lethargick sleep
Is out of
Season,
'tis a time to weep;
'It is
guilty Children
tremble at the
Rod,
Can you be stupid when the
angry God
Sets up this
dreadful Ensign
of his
wrath
?
Rouze
up
Repentance,
let a
lively Faith
Now go to work; see how the
preaching Air,
Instead of sinning, does exhort to
Prayer:
For thy
fantastic Garbs, Perfumes,
and all
Thy orhwe
trash,
it doth for
Sackcloth
call:
From
carnal sports it bids thee
quickly get,
Calls from the
Taverns
to the
Mercy seat.
From that accursed
Randezvouz
of Lust
It bids thee
hasten,
and
repent in dust.
Have not th' experience of
past Ages
given
Their sad
remarks
upon these
Signs
in Heaven?
What
followed
still, but
certain spoil of Nations,
Plagues, Fire and Sword,
and other
devastations
?
The sure
Eversion
of some
potent Crown;
The death of
Heroes, Monarchs
tumbled down.
But thou
Illustrious Architect
of
wonder,
Remove the
sorrows
which I
labor under.
Does this
amazing Prodigy
betoken
That
Rampant Babel
shall be quickly broken?
Does it
portend
that
Antichrist
shall break
In pieces, striving to
destroy
the
weak
Remains
that on this blessed name do call?
Or doesit
presage
that (trembling) I shall fall?
Lord canst thou see thy
pleasant Vineyard
tore,
And rooted up, by this
rapacious Boar
?
Or have my
Children's
crying
sins
provoked
That
dismal sentence,
not to
be revok'd.
(God's methods were to
chasten,
not
destroy
Those
sinning Souls
in whom he once took
joy.
)
O give thy sinking Church a
true discerning
What thou dost mean by this prodigious warning:
That by thy Spirits sacred Flame calcin'd,
By Scourges mended, and by heat refined,
We may find Grace, and all our ways amend,
For some strange change this doubtless doth portend.
Zion's
Friend.
This was first published eight years ago,
Just as God did that Fiery Meteor show;
And when amazed at that astonishing sight,
What you have read, I moved was to write,
What in my judgment it might signify,
Though I did never pretend to Prophecy;
But yet we see some things since come to pass,
Of what so plainly then predicted was▪
A dismal hour of darkness did appear,
And from that time increased every year;
Which
England,
nor God's Witnesses before
Did ever see; nor I hope never will more.
Our Governments Foundation up was torn,
Our famous City stripped, and left forlorn.
Good men turned out of Office without cause,
And those employ'd who violate those Laws
Which only can the Subjects Right secure,
And
England
did sad Slavery to endure.
God's Witnesses have likewise since been slain,
Though they are lately brought to Life again.
Yea, what a wondrous strange Catastrophie
Has since befall'n
Great Britain's
Monarchy
And what a blow is thereby given to
Rome
?
We may presage what further is to come;
For I donit doubt ere its effects are over,
The Church of
Rome
shall fall and rise no more.
And though proud
Lewis
triumph, let him know
It may foretell his final overthrow.
The
Turks
have felt the sad effects, and shall
(Unless they own the truth) entirely fall.
No Comet (I believe) did e're fore-show
More good that unto Protestants should grow.
But lest I should appear unkind to be
In stopping
Zion's
groans in misery,
I will forbear; that she may yet relate
What for some years has been her direful state;
And show what grief she now does labor under,
Which seems to break her very Heart asunder.
Dear Mother pray be pleased to proceed,
For to your words I will give attentive heed.
Zion.
Your news is good; but Oh! my Spirits faint,
Finding such doleful causes of complaint.
My panting Soul renewed grief doth feel,
My feeble knees beneath their burden reel.
Such are the black enormities and crimes
Which do attend these dark and gloomy times;
Although I see a Parliament most just,
Yet I alas lie covered in the dust.
This was in Eighty when thou couldst not see
The Savior which God had prepared for thee.
I am beset within, and round about,
Nor can I see how God will bring about
Deliverance; for my Enemies are strong,
And snares have laid to ruin me ere long.
And since my sins, and
England's
are so great,
•
t may God move to leave his Mercy-Seat,
And give us up into
Rome
's Hellish power,
To be destroyed in this most dismal hour▪
And if at this time we preserved be,
When
Rome
attacks us with such subtlety;
Playing (with so much malice) her last Game,
We ought to praise the great Jehovah's Name.
Since nothing but a Miracle can do this,
So very dangerous our condition is.
Zion's
Children.
Ah Mother! who can disallow your moan,
The Cause is just; for everyone must own
Our failing great, and that our sins provoke
Impending Judgments, and a future stroke,
If interceding Mercy step not in
To Ward the blow, and Cancel all our sin.
But since amazing Providence now gives light,
And makes appear the dark Intrigues o'th' night.
Since Heaven exposes the results of
Rome
To public notice; since the Traitors come
To Legal Execution; since the Grand
Contrivers of these mischiefs, dare not stand
The Test of Law, or due Examination;
1680. Since such brave Hero's represent the Nation,
Whose Clear, Sagacious, penetrating Eyes,
Dive into
Rome
's abhorred Mysteries.
Whose Noble Souls, whose Loyal English Hearts,
The closest sleights of Antichristian Arts
Can never deceive; whose brave resolves defeat
Those cursed Delinquents, whether small or great.
Whose Free-born courages do scorn to stoop
To be the Vassals of a doting Pope,
An upstart Vicar whose Power never was given,
By binding Laws of either Earth or Heaven.
We therefore, (Dearest Mother,) do conclude,
That what has past of Romish interlude,
Is near an Exit; That the Scene will be
Changed from a Tempest to Serenity.
This was writ in 1680. respecting the Worthy Englis • Parliament then Sitting. Such were our hopes then.
Zion.
O that's a
Cordial
! but my
grief
does borrow
Some fresh
objections
to renew my sorrow;
For some that
wish me well,
do yet in spite
Of Gospel-beamings, and the clearest Light
Retain some
Romish fragments
which displeases
The meek, the humble, self-denying JESUS.
His way of worship Scripture does express,
No useless Pomp, no Artificial Dress
Becomes Religion; Chastity abhors
The
Garb,
the
Painting,
and the
Gate of Whores.
Why should my Friends a Virgin-Church pollute
With any Relicks of that Prostitute?
Why gaudy things, that never had their name
In Sacred Records, our Profession shame?
Why are our
Rites
enammel'd with their
gloss
?
Why, must our Gold be mingled with their
dross
?
Why,
farther Reformation
is suppressed,
T' uphold a
Grandeur
that's
Usurp'd
at best?
Why
doors
and
windows
must be shut up quite,
To stop the radiance of its
further Light
?
And why must such as disallow those tricks,
Be branded as the vilest
Schismatics
?
But that's not all; my Children (more refined
From those corruptions,) do afflict my mind.
Oh depths of sorrow that disturb my rest!
Oh racking grief that rends my woeful Breast!
Some are so carnal, some so swiftly hurled
Into the Lab'
•
inths of th' enticing World,
That in the hurries of that crowded Road,
They find small leisure to attend their God;
Preferring filthy gain, and ill-got wealth,
Before the means of their Eternal health.
Some that in words respect me, I behold,
In that sad posture, betwixt hot and cold:
Sometimes they seem for sanctity; sometimes
Slide with the current of prevailing crimes:
Their Pulses beat with an alternate motion;
Now fo
•
the
world,
then for some faint
devotion:
Some
•
hat unto my Tabernacle were
Admitted, left me for
Egyptians
fare:
These not content with my Celestial Diet,
Do run with others to excess of Riot.
Some to be
popular,
away would give
Those
Gospel-duties
that are
positive:
From such as these, my sorrows do increase,
That sell
God's order
for a
seeming peace;
Allow such gaps as do
pervert
the
Laws
Of my just
Right,
and well-defended
Cause,
But O! how many
easy Christians
take
Their
rest in forms,
and no
distinction
make
'Twixt shell and kernel, that rely on Duty,
As if it were the sole adorning Beauty.
Such give the Lord the more invalid part,
Present their Bodies, but deny their Heart.
Are not some
Pastors
careless to provide
A Word in Season,
for the
Flocks
they guide?
Some are too backward to supply the
need
Of
painful Lab'rers,
that their
Souls
do feed:
Discourag'd by close-fisted
Avarice,
Despis'd, neglected, through this
Hellish Vice.
My Workmen languish, and have cause of moan,
To see their
toil
so ineffectual grown.
The most pathetic Preaching scarce can move
Some
Rocky hearers
to the Grace of
Love.
Must
hag-faced Envy,
and
foul-tongu'd Detraction,
Invenom'd
Malice,
and unfaithful
Action,
Ill grounded
Slander,
and uncertain
Rumors,
Backbiting, Quarrels,
and the worst of
Humors
Be practic'd thus? Ah grief of griefs to see
Professing people
act iniquity
To such a pitch!—some
Husbands
and some
Wives
Do lead such shameful, such unsavory Lives;
Whilst mutually at strife, they do impeach
That name that should be very dear to each.
•
uch pride, such churlish
reprehension
For every toy, such sharpness and contention,
As does disgrace
Religion,
and does lay
Blocks and offenses in a
Converts
way.
Ah! why cannot we in Families eschew
That which
mere Heathens
are ashamed to do?
Their Houses are the Scene of
Civil Wars,
Of Brawls, of Discord, and
Domestic Jars;
In Grace or Comfort can they find increase,
Or
Heavenly Blessings,
who are void of peace?
How oft do
Parents
ill Example draw
Their tender Children to infringe the Law,
And Sanctions of the Everlasting God?
Do
they not spoil them when they spare the
Rod?
To strange Extreams some Parents do adhere,
Check not at all, or else are too severe:
On
Back
and
Belly
they bestow much cost,
But care not if their precious Souls be lost:
Are they not guilty of prodigious folly
That teach them
Courtship,
and neglect what's
holy
?
A Child untutor'd (a mere lump of sin,)
May justly curse its cause of having been.
Such as instruct, do doubly them beget,
By timely Lessons lab'ring to defeat
Their growth in ill; such cure their
better part
(By wise prevention) of a canker'd Heart.
Oh! then's the time to give 'em Form and Mold,
For Trees admit no bending that are old;
Who timely sow such Seed they would have grow,
Will surely reap according as they sow.
Some like the Ape, that does by hugging kill,
Prompt on a Child to tip his Tongue with ill
In his first prattle; but it is less pain,
To form good habits, than reform the vain.
On th' other hand, how many Children do
Prove vain, rebellious, disobedient to
Their
godly Parents
? slight their careful teaching,
Make sport of Prayer, and a mock of Preaching?
Contempt of Parents, of what kind so e're,
Contracts a bitter curse, which everywhere
Will find them out. But Oh my akeing Soul
Beats sad Alarms of grief! I must condole
The dismal Fate of Youth! alas how few
The ways of God and holiness pursue!
But very eager to obey the Devil,
In quickly Learning every reigning evil;
Here you may see if you survey the Nation,
Our youth grown old in vile Abomination▪
Such early Graduates in the Hellish Science,
Setting both Heaven and Hell at loud defiance.
Let Grace and Virtue grovel in the dust,
Their Youth and Strength they'll Sacrifice to Lust▪
That Sacred Precept in the Word of Truth,
To mind their Maker in the days of Youth
They scorn to heed: Ah Fools! that would begin
Conversion, when they can no longer Sin;
But know, preposterous Souls; the day of Doom
(That dreadful Audit of Accounts) will come.
How dare you run this vile
career
till Death,
Like a
grim Serjeant,
comes t▪ arrest your Breath?
When your
Tongues
faulter, and your
Eye strings
crack,
When stings of horror do your
Conscience
rack,
When Hells
Abyss
sets ope its spacious
Gate,
And
Troops of Devils
round about you wait.
When naught but
horror
and
confusion
seizes
Upon your Sences? when those
foul Diseases
You got by vile
Debauches
have at length
Destroy'd your Persons, and subdued your
Strength;
•
s this a Season to detest your Leudness,
To talk of
Virtue,
or pretend to Goodness?
Egregious Fools! how dare you to delay
Your Souls Affairs to that
uncertain day
?
Oh! can you trust so
grand a work
to that
Moment of
anguish
? when you know not what
(When sound) your end will be, nor yet how soon,
Though brisk at Morning, you may die ere Noon:
And if unchang'd, your certain
doom
will be
To lie in
Hell
to all
Eternity.
Zion's
Children.
O dismal state! O miserable case!
Enough to daunt all that are void of grace!
And crush the bragging of the stoutest mind!
But are there still more grievances behind?
Zion.
Still more behind
! O that there were no more!
Since they are too many that I have told before:
Masters
and
Servants, Kings
and
Subjects
err
In their
Relation:
does not each
prefer
Base selfish Ends to gratify a
Lust,
Before what's honest, and supremely just.
Zion's
Friend.
Thus, thus I am sure it was that year when I
Publisht that Book of
Zion's Misery;
For King and People strangely were misled,
And the cursed
Popish
Plot near smothered;
And many other horrid shameless crimes
I'th' Land were perpetrated in those times,
But I will have done; (
Dread Matron
) pray declare
What th' other Motives of your sorrows are.
Zion.
Ah! how much time by Christians is spent
In fruitless idle
talk
? how negligent
In holy
conference
? strange to each other!
How dull is each to quicken up his
Brother
In
Gospel-duties
? O! how few do nourish
That
Love
and
Zeal
which heretofore did flourish?
A
Love
whose flaming heat and gen'rous rays
(Repleat with Spirit) famed the former days.
Pious discourses may reclaim the vile;
But they are hardn'd in their sins the while
Christians converse like them, and rather learn
Their vicious tricks, than teach them to discern
The dismal snares and perils that do lurk
In sinful words, and every evil work.
Some are so covetous that they would grasp
The World in
Arm-fulls
till their latest gasp.
•
ome full of
Envy,
others do express
Their
Lust
on dainties, feeding to Excess:
〈◊〉
nice
and
delicate
in choice of Meat,
Whilst their
poor Brethren
scarce have
Bread
to eat.
Merchants and Traders have a nimble Art
•
o sum their
Shop-books,
but neglect the
He art;
•
or
that
they think there's time enough, and look
But seldom to the Reck'nings of that
Book.
How many come for
fashion sake
to hear?
▪What one receives, goes out at toother Ear)
How many
loiter
in their
Christian
Race,
•
rofusely squandering the day of Grace?
Many like Drones on others
toil
do live,
Though '
tis less honor to receive than give.
What
Lying, Cheating, Couz'ning
and
Deceit
Do Traders use? Oh! how they over-rate
What they would sell? but if they be to buy,
They under-value each commodity.
But why should
Pride,
that vile
Abomination
Be found in Christians? must each
Apish
Fashion
Bewitch their Minds when God is so Express,
In strict forbidding of so vile a Dress.
Prayer that
sacred Ordinance,
that holds
An intercourse with Heaven, which beholds
The Fathers Glory, and on high does mount,
Is made by many but of small account.
'It is that which carries our desires to God,
And comes down fraighted with a blessed load
Of sweet returns; yet 'tis much disrespected,
And
Closet Prayer
too too much neglected.
Scriptures themselves are slighted and disus'd,
And oft, when read, perverted or abused:
Helping the weak, is turned into its slighting,
Gospel-reproofs perverted to Backbiting.
Many that do of God his
Mercy
crave,
Yet on the
needy
little
Mercy
have.
They own they 've Blessings from the God of Love,
Yet too too many do unthankful prove.
Some follow
whimsies
that do
nearly
border
Upon
confusion,
and
despise
all order▪
Such on all
sacred Institutions
trample,
Though fortify'd by
Precept
and
Example,
As if 'twere low for an
exalted mind,
To be to
God's declared will
confined;
But can these
men of Rapture
make
pretence
That they have more
Divine intelligence
Than all th' illustrious Saints, as
Prophets, Priests,
Apostles, Martyrs
and
Evangelists,
That were the
Scribes
and
Messengers
of
Heaven,
And strictly practic'd all the
Duties
given
Unto the Church; which are without
repeal
?
But if they are
disannul'd
who did
reveal
Their
Abrogation
to these bold
pretenders
?
God's Laws are
sound,
and need no human
menders,
But Oh! that
dismal evil
that's behind,
Disturbs my
Reason,
and distracts my
Mind,
It is
Division;
that unhappy
word
Has done more mischief than a
Popish Sword
Could ever do; Oh! that a
sweet Communion
(At least of Love) did but complete our
Union.
Why should
licentious heat,
my
Childern hurry
To those
Extreams
? must they each other
worry
For
trivial things
? do they not
all agree
In
fundamentals of Divinity
?
Is there no
room
for
Love
? or must that
grace
Among my
Children
have no proper place?
Why is one Christian angry with his
Brother
If not so
tall
as he? or with another,
Because his
face
is not so
white
as his?
Or that his
habit
not so
gaudy
is?
Alas! no
folly
can be more
absurd,
Nor more exploded in God's
holy word.
All should to
Gospel-purity
adhere;
But to
calumniate, vilify
and
jeer
All such as are not of their
very pitch,
Is
Anti-gospel,
and a
practice
which
The Lord
abhors;
If causes of
Dissent
Evert not
Truth,
nor shake the
Fundament
Of
true Religion,
why such
angry bawling
?
Suck
odious nick-names,
and such
vile miscalling.
Who dares intrude into the
Judgment-seat
Of God Almighty who is only great,
And only
judgment
gives; to
him belongs
To
pass the sentence,
and to
punish wrongs.
Why cannot
Christians
with each other bear?
Among
Apostles
some
dissensions
were;
But did they therefore Persecute each other?
These
Mortal conflicts, Brother
against
Brother,
Destroy our
safety,
for they set a
gap
Open for
Rome,
that would us all entrap
In
fatal snares:
their
Maxim is
we know,
Divide and rule, distract and overthrow.
Their
crafty Agents
do
creep
in among
Our heedless
parties,
and
divide
the
throng,
That with more ease they may us all
devour,
Destroy our
Nation,
and subvert our
Power.
Why therefore do not
Protestants
agree
As
one,
against the
common Enemy
?
Who waits with bloody hand t' involve 'em all,
In one
destruction Epidemical.
Zion's
Children.
Ah Mother! who can remedy your grief?
For this Disease admits of no relief.
Zion.
Of no relief
? O then my Heart must
break!
Unless my
Sons
their
Mothers
counsel take,
Which will those fatal
flaming heats
allay,
Obstruct their
growth,
and take 'em clear away.
Oh! can a Mothers
tears
and woeful
cries
Be disregarded in her
Children's Eyes
?
Can
English Protestants,
who do profess
To serve one God in
truth
and
holiness,
Slight all my
wishes,
and
requests
despise?
Oh! hearken to my
counsel
and be
wise:
Let
wrathful Pride,
and foolish
Self-conceit;
Let
Quibbles
and
Sophistical Deceit
Be quite exploded: let a cool debate
All
Fundamentals
of
Religion
state:
〈◊〉
such you all will certainly agree:
Oh happy
Model of sweet Unity!
Let none that to those
Principles
do stick,
Be branded with the name of
Heretic;
It glads my Heart to hear 'em treat each other,
By that sweet
title
of a
Christian Brother.
Next if you would not
Charity
explode,
Abuse the guiltless, and affront your God,
Judge not your
Brethren
at a distance; neither.
Give
easy Credit
to the
Tales
of either
Hot-headed Scriblers,
or
Licentious tongues
That often load the
Innocent
with
wrongs:
So
hellish Monks
did serve
Wald ensian
Saints
With
horrid Clamour,
and
unjust Complaints.
So
Popish Impudence
spews out its
Gall
To make us
odious,
and bespatter all
The
Reformation; Sure that cause is bad
Whose chief support from
Railing
must be had;
If giddy
Rumour,
or uncertain
Fame
Should raise a
slander
on your
brothers
name,
Repair to him, and in
converse
you will see
Whether he
guilty
or not
guilty
be:
If he be faulty,
tell him of his sin;
Be
Mild
and
Secret,
and you may him win.
Admonish
Gently,
let your
whole discourse,
Be full of
Savour, love
and
Scripture force.
This is the
way to bring him to a sense,
And God's
prescribed Method, to convince;
But if you fail, then
leave him to his God,
Who can reform, or punish with a
Rod.
Your
work
is done, you have
discharged
the part
Of
Friend
of
Brother,
of a
Christian heart
Before
Belief
examine what is vented
Good men by
Malice
may be represented
In
Monstrous Shapes:
Some that to God are dear,
Hatred
will paint like a
Mishapen Bear;
Believe not therefore
distant imputation,
No censure's just before
Examination,
In all
Debate's
be sure to
lay
aside
All prejudice, and let the
Scriptures
guide
Your calm, sedate disputes, let truth be scan'd
With cool resolves: O! Let that great
Command
Of
Love
take place! for that should
moderate
All
Eager Sallies
in
a warm debate.
Who loses
Error,
truly gains
the field,
And he is
Victor,
that to
truth
does yield;
Where e're you find it, though in
mean array,
Subscribe and win the glory of the day.
O: what's the world, but
Shackles
to the
mind
What's Reputation, but
a fleeting▪ wind.
Why should those
bawbles
which
the Lord abhors
Become the
Sacred Truths
Competitors?
Away with all such rubs let truth take place
And then the
Springs
of
Everlasting grace
Will drop down
blessings, Unity, increase
Among my
Children
as the
Fruits of peace.
Zion's
Children.
Our common danger, and the Real sense,
Which we have got by dear experience
Of those advantages our cruel Foe
Gets by our Factions, will unite us so,
As that our Enemies shall never prevail
To break our League, or make our courage fail.
But speak (Dear Mother,) has some new affright
So discompos'd you, that you fear our Light
Is near Extinction? Tell your Sons, we pray;
What are the Symptoms of th' expiring day.
Why do you Judge, that
England's
day of grace
Draws to an Evening, and declines apace?
Shew some prognostics of that dismal night,
That threatens to succeed our Gospel Light.
Zion.
When
Sol
once touches our
Meridian
Line,
It straight descends, does by degrees decline;
Its heat grows less, its dis-appearing
Light
Yields to the
Sable
of approaching night:
Just so the
Gospel
in its
Altitude,
Once shot such
beams,
that in this
Isle
ensu'd
So great
conversion,
that those former days
Did feel its blest and universal Rays.
A general
heat
did warm this
happy Nation,
From its benign and powerful
operation
But now it falls and from our
Horizon
Its vigorous
influence
is almost gone.
Thousands of
Sermons
lately have been preached,
But very few (if any) sinners reached.
How ineffectual is the quickening word!
It shines, but warms not, 'tis but like a Sword
That's fair to sight, but has not Edge at all,
Few
pricked at heart,
and scarce do any fall
At
Jesus
feet; Or have a sense of sin,
Confessing how
Rebellious
they have been!
It is a dismal and apparent sign
That night comes on, when
Phoebus
does decline,
When heat and fervor fail, our
hemisphere
Will quickly see its glory disappear.
The ev'ning of the nat'ral day is come
When harvest-work-men are repairing home:
So when quick Summons of
Omnipotence,
Removes the Dressers of his Vineyard hence,
We may conclude the
Gospel-morning
past,
Because God's Servants disappear so fast.
Can I when
Gap-defenders
fall asleep,
But (like old
Israel
) for my
Prophets
weep?
How can the naked and unguarded
Flock,
Against devouring Wolves sustain the shock,
When of the
Shepherds
it is thus bereft,
When scarce a
Moses
or a
Joshua's
left
How many active Guides, most dearly loved
By me, have been, in little time removed,
Scarce can I dry mine Eyes for loss of one,
But news arrives of many others gone:
Ah if my head were waters, and each Eye
A well of tears, I could distil 'em dry;
Bright Lamps extinguishit! and no other Lights
Appear to chase the horror of our nights!
Shook by concussions of my Foes, I stand
Whilst few are raised to hold my trembling hand,
If thus my
Horsemen
and
Commanders
die
What will become of the poor
Infantry
?
Who can support the burden of the
day,
When such brave
Hero
's daily drop away?
Is summer past, or is the
harvest
done?
That such
Presages
of a
Storm
come on!
Sure God (as
Monarchs
do) intendeth
Wars,
When he
recalls
his choice Ambassadors.
Ah too
Licentious world
! Come look about,
Before the Lord the
bloody Flag
puts out,
When God, from
Sodom
righteous
Lot
did call,
Sulphurious flashes
did consume them all.
Another ground of my
prevailing fear,
That
England's
black
Catastrophe
is near,
Is that, as in the closure of the day,
The
Evening-wolves
do range abroad to
prey.
So
Romish Beasts
in
monstrous swarms
do peep
From their
black Caverns
to destroy my
Sheep:
Such hate the
tell tale-Light,
and therefore hide
Themselves in
Dens,
until the
Ev'ning tide
Their
cursed products
are resolves of night,
Like silent
Curs,
that in the
dark
do bite.
Another
Symptom
of the
days declension,
Is when the
Shadows
do increase
dimension.
So when I look about I
plainly see
Our
Ev'ning Shadows
very long to be;
In
human bodies
when the head grows
hoary,
It notes decay of vigor, strength, and glory,
Gray hairs are thick upon our
Ephraim's
head
His
Strength
decays, his
Face
is withered,
When
Joynts
grow
palsi'd,
and the
blood's congeal'd,
Into a
J
•
lly,
can the man be healed?
When
limbs
grow
Stiff,
and
feeble Age
does plow
Its wrinkled furrows
on the
Patients
brow,
When
heat
gives place to a
benumbing cold,
When
doting fancy
cares not to be told
Of its
approaches
to a certain
Grave,
When it rejects the
Physic
that would save;
The
case is desperate,
for the
Patient's just
Upon the point
to be intomb'd in dust:
Even so (Alas!) This
gasping Nation lies
Under the
pressure
of sad
Maladies
!
'It is
sick at heart
yet seems
averse
to take
That
Sacred Physic
whose
Ingredients
make
Diseases
vanish, and would
ward
the blow
Which will I fear produce its
overthrow:
Ah! must our glory, (like a
brittle Glass
Reduc'd to
fractions
) into
Atoms
pass
So Rude a
Chaos
! An unform'd
confusion
Threatning the whole with utter
dissolution.
Once
happy Isle,
I grieve at thy condition
Where's thy
Repentance
? Where is thy
contrition
?
Thou hast been counted our
Immanuel's
Land
The
Gospel
seems on
Tip-toe
now to stand
To bid thee
farewell:
Must thy Sun so soon
Be
set
! before it did approach to
noon
!
Must that illustrious Morning-light be gone
That spread its beams through all our
Horizon
!
Must wretched
Malice
and prodigious
Lust
Must bare-faced
pride,
and impudent
distrust▪;
Rob thee of this inestimable
Jewel
?
How canst thou be so
pittyless, so cruel
Unto thyself?
Sin
is the
flaming dart
That cuts thy Veins, and Wounds thy very heart,
Can
Zion
choose but send out
mournful cries
And weep thy
downfall
in sad Elegies?
Within thy bounds my tabernacles were
Built up, and I did long inhabit here
Thy
Gospel-glory,
and
Renown's
gone forth
Into all parts and▪ corners of the Earth,
Thou mayest be Justly stilled
the place of Vision
(Though made by foes an
Object of derision
)
The Joy of Saints, the
Protestants
delight,
The
Mark
and
Butt
of
Antichristian spite.
But if the Crown be ravishit from thy
head,
And
Romish
Clouds thy Luster overspread,
What
heart's so brawny
but my
doleful cry
Must move to pity? What relentless Eye
Can see thy fall and not dissolve to drops?
Oh fleeting
Joys;
Oh disappearing hopes!
Oh hastening horror, Oh invading fears!
Had I a sea of never empty'd tears,
My boundless, helpless grief wide open sets
The Sluces for its Streaming Rivulets
The very Air, dressed in prodigious Forms,
Must groan in Thunder, and must weep in Storms;
Nature of strong convulsions sickned is,
To see this horrid
Metamorphosis:
Where
Gospel
Pastors did some Millions feed
Must Blind and Sottish
ignorance
succeed?
Must all their throats be cut that would not adore
The hateful
carcass of a filthy Whore
?
Must all that execrate
Rome's Superstition,
Be Murder'd by a
bloody Inquisition
?
Must such as would not to
Idols
bow, be broke?
Must flaming
Smithfield
belch out
Fire
and
Smoke
Of Martyred Saints? Must all that will not turn,
With Bibles and good Books together burn?
Must
Monkish Tories,
mere
incarnate Devils
Possess our
Land,
and pester it with
Evils
Of such an odious and abhorred
grain,
That but to name 'em is
a lasting stain
?
Must our Renowned Ministers give place
To
Romish Block-heads
? Oh the vile disgrace
Of such a
change
? Must an
adulterous Priest
Belch our his Mass, where they have preached Christ.
Must that
absurd
and
irreligious Tribe,
Who fetter
conscience,
and regard a
bribe
Beyond their Souls, be leaders to
our Flocks
Must
Paultry non-sense,
and those
Apish Mocks
Miscall'd
devotion,
fill the
house of prayer
?
Must
Pestilence
infect
our purer Air
?
Must
Sodom
be translated to our
Isle,
And filthy
Priests
our chastity
defile
?
Must
Satan's factors
in a
human Shape
On modest
Virgins
perpetrate a
Rape
?
Must all our
painful Ministers
be driven
To
Fiery Stakes,
if they renounce not
heaven
?
Must our dear
Infants
lose their harmless lives
In flaming Faggots,
or with
Popish Knives
?
Must
guiltless blood
through all our
Streets
rebound
A mournful
Echo
? Must the
horrid sound
Of
Axes, Whips,
and dreadful
Scourges tear
Our
aking hearts
and pierce the
yielding Air
?
All this will be, if
Rome can but prevail
!
Amazement
stops my
Speech
!
My Spirits fail
!
I only can in
interjections
cry,
I sink in trances! O I die, I die!
Zion's
Children.
Ah! How can we with any patience bear
This sad Complaint? Ah! How can Children hear
Their Mother delug'd in a Sea of grief,
And not step in to give her some relief?
Chear up, Illustrious
Zion,
be not cast
Into despair by this impending blast;
Christ is our Captain, and we may be bold.
For in all Storms he is our Anchor hold
But what's that Beast where of thou dost complain
From whence came he? And of what date's his Reign?
Give us his marks, that we thereby may know him,
And then abate his pride, and overthrow him
With Universal, and United force,
Our Armed Legions shall impede his course,
I'th' cause of God who does all Scepters wield
We'l fight his battles, and dispute in the' Field,
In Martial Syllogisms our Arms shall speak
We'l storm his Walls, and make his Butwarks quake
Revenge and Anger in our bosom burns
Patience too much provoke to fury turns.
Zion.
See! That's the Beast upon whose back the great
Iaticing Strumpet rides in pomp and State
By him she was supported all along
By his Impostures she was rendered strong
He's not content to be Supreme below,
And make all Scepters to his Crozier bow,
But th' Impious wretch is grown so bold that even
He dares affront the Majesty of Heaven
What God Commands this Antichrist controuls
Condemns the Sav'd, and saves Condemned Souls.
Himself he places in
jehovahs
Throne,
As Principal, and Second unto none;
A brace of Keys he carries in his hand
To shut and open at his own Command;
He curses and absolves; He binds, releases,
Puts down, advances, whom so e're he pleases
This is th' Apocalyptic Beast that claims
Sublimest Titles, and Blasphemous names,
With matchless Pride, and monstrous Impudence,
He does for money with God's Laws dispence;
Yea, such is his unheard of avarice,
Upon the worst of crimes he set a price.
Zion's
Children.
These Marks are so notorious that we can
Clearly discern the Pope of
Rome's
the Man,
This raging Monster▪ and this Beast of prey;
Shall we arise, and take his strength away,
That hath so long time tyrannized thus
With Hellish fury over thee and us?
Self preservation is by every creature
Esteemed a Sacred Principle in Nature;
Each Free-born Soul must at those Tyrants spurn
That would infect their Souls; Their bodies burn
Why should this Beast still rage and domineer
As he hath done without control or fear.
Zion.
God's time is best, and in due season he
Will bring this Beast to his
Catastrophe.
He sits in Heaven, and there beholds with scorn
This Rebels Pride; His glorious Son that's born
Heir of the World, and Prince of Kingdoms too,
Shall surely reign because it is his due
For all to him the Sovereign Rule must yield;
His is the Crown; He shall the Scepter wield;
To Jesus all shall bow; He shall be King,
And to poor
Zion
shall Redemption bring.
Forty two months unto this Beast is given
So long shall he tread down the Host of Heaven;
And now I hope the end thereof draws nigh,
And that some will be spirited from on high,
Who in the Great
Jehovah's
name shall sound
Such an Alarm as shall his power confound.
Another Enemy, his Confederate
There is likewise, that my forlorn Estate
Hath much occasioned, and of whom before
I made complaint; The proud insulting Whore,
Who with lascivious looks and wanton eyes
Incites to Lust and all Debaucheries.
By her provoking and bewitching charms
Grandees she doth entice into her arms,
Corrupting Princes by her incantations,
And ruining the Nobles of the Nations.
Great God! Assist me, lest my Spirits fail,
That I the State of Monarchs may bewail,
Who to her Yoke yield their Illustrious necks
And move like Vassals at her haughty becks;
Ah! they that should my nursing Fathers be
Are Executioners of her Cruelty,
And by her influence the Civil Power
Is made a dreadful Engine to devour
The Saints of God, and kick at their Creator,
But let them know the Sovereign Arbitrator
Of all their destinies, is Great and Just,
And can at pleasure crumble them to dust
Thus hath she made the Greatest Kings and Peers
Submit to her Dominion many years,
Exhaust their treasures, ruinate their fame,
And at the last gain naught but loss and shame;
For by engaging in her Hellish Plots
They to their names have gained Eternal Blots;
Nay of their Kingdoms some deprived have been
As it in divers Nations has been seen;
Impudent Strumpet! Whose cursed wiles defile
Men's Consciences, and do their Souls beguile
And when involved in the deepest guilt
She then pretends to wash away the filth
By impious Pardons; Yea to such a height
Of folly does bewitch them, that the sight
Of Death approaching would not make them confess
Apparent guilt and horrid wickedness;
And by her Arts, when they are parting hence
Their Fronts Steels with such hardened impudence
That though brought to a most deserved death,
With lies and falsehoods they resign their breath,
Her Agents buzzing in their doubting ears
False hopes, whereby they may forget their fears,
Who like ill Angels round about them hover,
Doubting they should their Villanies discover.
When some are stretched upon the fatal block,
And Justice ready to discharge the stroke,
Such is the strength of her inebriation,
That they, (Oh! horrible) on their Salvation
Protest they are innocent, when all the while
No Treason ever did appear more vile
Than that for which Impartial Justice them
To a just death as Traitors did condemn;
For
Rome,
by downright impudence even would
Outface the Sun, and baffle if she could
The clearest proofs, and Solid'st evidence
Produc'd by Heavens unerring Providence.
Ah cruel Mistress of deluded Souls!
That's not content to make them arrant fools,
To lose Estates and Lives, but must thereby
Make them stab conscience when they come to die
She to encourage Treasons does prefer
Those Traitors Martyrs in her Calender
But will this recompense the loss of Thrones,
Or ease the Soul in hell of its sad groans.
Zion's
Children.
Shall we (endangered by her Plots) arise,
And curb this Harlot who our God defies?
Why should her Treasons anymore annoy
Thy precious Saints, and Nations thus destroy?
Let's make her drink of that invenom'd Cup
She fiill'd for us; Shall she not drink it up?
Will none fall on, provoked by just ire
To eat her flesh, and burn her in the Fire?
Zion.
Dear Children! as to what you have required,
At present you must keep yourselves retired,
Make no attempts until God from on high
Affords you strength this
Babel
to defy;
At present you are even like Persons dead
And seem unable to erect your head,
But then you shall appear to be alive,
God's Spirit shall your fainting Souls revive,
Who to the fixed time will be exact
When he will begin this strange and dreadful Act,
To the confusion of your Enemies,
Then God will cause his Witnesses to rise,
And you will have a clear and gracious Call
To join with those that on the Whore shall fall.
Zion's
Friend.
These lines were writ eight years ago or more
In the book which I mentioned before
We then had hopes of what was drawing near;
But stay my Muse! To
Zion
lend an Ear,
To what she at that time was heard to say
About the Dispensations of that day.
Zion.
With patience (Children) wait upon the Lord,
Until his saving Strength he does afford;
To him you all must make your Supplication,
For from him only is my expectation.
Oh! sigh with me, and in your Spirits groan,
Send up strong cries to the Almighty's Throne,
Give him no rest until those happy days
I shall exalted be,
and made the praise
Of all the Earth;
And I will likewise cry
And mount my voice to Him who sits on High.
The Churches Prayer.
O Lord of Hosts consider my Estate,
Let me remain no longer desolate.
Have I not been most precious in thy sight?
Lord therefore do not my Petition slight.
But let thy bowels to thy Children move,
In token of parental, tender love;
Shall
Zion
totter, and the Beast be steady
In his proud Seat? Hast thou not seen already
What they have done, who evil good do call,
From whom we can expect no good at all;
Will they make Judgment in the' right Channel go
Ex
•
irpate vice? make righteousness to flow
Like mighty Streams; Will they a blessing be?
To me or mine who haters are of thee?
Can men of thorns expect sweet grapes to find?
Will ravenous Wolves to innocent Lambs be kind
Will such as have thy Children's blood let out,
Striving to bring their black designs about,
And with mine Enemies daily still combine
To root out and destroy both me and mine;
Will these be now chief Friends and me relieve?
Sure none but mad men would such things believe.
If Thanks and Praises will on Earth be given
If
Hallelujahs
will be sung in Heaven
To thy great name for rasing
Babylon.
If placing of a Papist on the Throne
Be for our good, by opening a door
For men's Salvation readier than before;
If the access of sinners easier be
In their approaches (Blessed God) to thee,
By Romanists having the Sovereignty,
Oh! then exalt them; Let all others fall
And
Rome
usurp Dominion over all.
But if in thy just and all seeing Eye,
Their monstrous crimes are of a crimson die;
If they from their Original have been
The vilest wretches and the worst of men;
If for the future they intend to be
The Perpetrators of all Villany;
If their dark Heathenish Idolatry
Pride, horrid murders and base Perjury
Mount up to Heavens High Imperial Throne;
If their Oppressions make thy Churches gone,
If they will burn the Scriptures, and suppress
All Books that treat of Gospel Holiness;
If guiltless Souls without respect to age
Or Sex, must be the objects of their rage;
If they are Enemies to thy Covenants,
If they would trample underfoot thy Saints,
If 'cause thou dost not seem to hear, and save
Thy
Zion,
or to grant what she doth crave,
They Scoff at, and deride thy glorious name,
And put thy Faithful ones to open shame:
Then hear, O Lord? Thou see'st my power's gone:
That can thy Church from her Stern Foes deliver.
Oh draw thy flaming Arrows from thy Quiver,
To quell the Pride of this Insulting Crew;
Thy mighty Arm alone can them subdue:
On thee I have my absolute reliance;
Do thou assist, I will bid them all defiance:
Hear, O my God, and for thy mercy Sake,
On Gasping
Zion
some compassion take;
I have been Ransom'd by the precious blood
Of thy Dear Son, and fed with heavenly food;
Thy Churches sins O pardon and forgive
And in sweet concord let thy Children live
Teach them true saving knowledge from thy Word,
That they may worship thee with one accord;
My breach thou canst repair, and cure my wound,
Nothing too difficult for thee is found:
Thou knowest my grief (O Lord) incline thine ear,
Revive my hope, and chace away my fear,
In
Achors
Valley open thou a door,
Make me rejoice as I did heretofore;
I pray thee, break my bonds, ease my distress,
Bring me out of this dolesom wilderness,
Oh let me Shine like
Sols
illustrious light,
Make me
an Army terrible in fight;
Rend off that Vail which does thy
Zion
cover,
Scatter the Clouds, whereby I may discover
What thou designest by this thy Dispensation
And what my work is in this generation.
'It is time for thee to plead thy righteous cause
When wicked men make void thy righteous Laws,
Thou canst cause them to drink of their own cup,
And
loftiest Cedars
by the roots pluck up.
But Lord, remember
Zion,
spare thy Vine,
That spreading Plant which thou hast chose for thine,
Make that to flourish, and be ever green,
And full of Clusters as before 't has been
From
Egypt
thou hast brought it heretofore;
O God, I pray, bring it out thence once more,
Let thy hand plant, and water so the Root,
That all the Land may feast upon the fruit;
O let its cordial juice the Nation fill,
And let its boughs over shadow every Hill,
From Sea to Sea do thou her branches send,
From all her Enemies always her defend:
Preserve her Fence, be unto her a Wall,
And keep her from the violence of all
Wild Beasts, and from that Boars malicious power,
That would destroy her, and her fruit devour.
Lord from on high thy Lovely Vine behold,
'It is thine own Plant, of greater price than Gold;
Canst thou deny her thy assistance, while
These Ravenous Creatures do thy Vineyard spoil?
Take notice how her bulwarks are thrown down,
And more heart-breaking evils coming on;
Breach upon breach, Alas! I daily see,
And doubtless I shall quickly ruined be,
Unless by some unknown and Glorious hand,
Thou speedily dost save me, and the Land.
I am Christ's Spouse: His undefiled one;
Wilt thou permit me to be trod upon?
'It is by thy grace I am intit'led so,
Great God! relieve me and divert my woe;
Who am surrounded every way with grief,
Oh let thy lovely smiles bring me relief;
Thou hast withdraw the beamings of thy grace,
And wrapped in Clouds the Splendor of thy face,
Which has upon me brought such anxious smart,
As tears my Soul, and makes my very heart:
Drop tears of blood: For if the glorious Sun
Of Righteousness be hid, where shall I run,
For joy or comfort in this dismal hour,
Who only to bemoan myself have power?
More she had spoke, but that her Passion ties
Her mournful Tongue; The Floodgates of her eyes,
In Crystal Streams, do represent such anguish,
As makes her vital op
•
rations languish
Sunk in despairing Swouns, she scarce appears
To breathe or live, but by her Sighs and Tears.
Zion's
Children.
Mourn, Mourn, Oh Heavens! And thou Oh earth bewail,
Weep ye blest Saints, until your Spirits fail,
For she that is the glory of the Earth,
Of the most Noble and Illustrious birth,
Lies sadly groaning in a deep despair
Whose grievous sorrows no tongue can declare
Oh! that our brethren would but hasten hither,
That in God's fear we might confer together.
Sure you must grieve when her complaints you hear
You cannot certainly but shed a tear;
Do not your Eyes even like a Fountain stream,
And all your joys turn to a mourning Theme?
Does not your nightly rest from you depart?
Are you not pierced to the very heart,
And fallen into the depth of bitterness,
Because of
Zion's
Trouble and distress?
How can our hearts delight in things below?
How can we rest secure, as sinners do?
How can we comfort take, or pleasure find,
Or how can we the Worlds concernments mind?
Or with Terrene enjoyments be content,
And not poor
Zion's
miseries lament?
〈◊〉
can we hear our Mothers doleful cries?
〈◊〉
Sighs, she Sobs, she Languishes, she lies
〈◊〉
dreadful Agonies, in bitter pain,
〈◊〉
can we bear her Enemies disdain?
〈◊〉
wickedly reproach her every day,
And like a broken pot she's thrown away,
Despis'd and trod upon even like the dung
The Drunkard on her makes his daily Song
But Christ will come, and look on her sad State,
End with poor
Zion he will
Expostulate.
'Why art thou sometimes high, then low again
'Sometimes at ease and then in bitter pain?
'Doubtless th' are Throwes; Chear up and do not fear,
'For thy deliverance is very near;
'These laboring pangs will speedily be over,
'Take heart, thou shall not die; One or two more
'Will bring that Child into the World which thou
'Hast travel'd with in bitter pangs till now;
'Address thyself to God, for surely he
'From these thy tortures will deliver thee;
''It is he alone that brings unto the birth,
'And giveth strength and vigor to bring forth;
'Then stay thyself upon th' Almighty Lord,
'His gracious help he to thee will afford
'Upon his promises do thou depend
'And thou shalt see deliverance in the end.
These words of Comfort, like a Cordial wrought
And to her senses, mourning
Zion
brought,
With fainting looks, and with a weeping Eye
Unto her Children she renews her cry.
Zion.
How am I spoiled? How do I sit forlorn?
How long wilit be e're I shall cease to mourn?
I am like a Ship by raging Tempests tost
'Midst Rocks and Sands, just ready to be lost.
Where every billow do's present a grave,
And Death in Triumph rides on every Wave.
But yet,
I am engraven on his hand,
And in his sight forever I do stand.
Awake, O arm of God! Oh come away!
My woes are very great! Ah do not Stay!
Hear me, Dear Jesus; unto thee I cry,
Unless thou save me I must surely die;
Christ.
In Glorious Regions of approachless Light,
Where Joys unmixed with perfect Love unite;
There do I sit; There do I see and hear
What Kings and Potentates consulting are;
But in mine Ears methinks I hear the cry
Of some distressed Soul in misery;
My Bowels in me with compassion move,
Oh!—'tis the voice of her I dearly love;
She whom I purchased with my dearest blood,
Seems drenched, yea drowned in tears, as in a Flood;
Some mighty Sorrow sure, and Tribulation,
Extorts from her this doleful Lamentation,
Enough to pierce my tender heart again,
And make the Temple once more rend in twain
Alas, poor
Zion,
thy Complaints I hear,
And I will rescue thee; Oh do not fear,
I know thy sorrows, and I hear thy cries,
And from what apprehensions they arise:
Know! I can still the blustering Winds and Seas,
And in the greatest anguish can give case;
I can both wound and cure; Build up and break▪
I kill, I make alive, I give, I take!
The Greatest Monarchs I can soon pull down,
I can make void, and then fill up the Throne;
When I think fit, I make the Nations shake,
And haughty Princes at my presence quake,
Kingdoms to totter, and reel to and fro;
All this and greater things for thee I will do:
Although thy Foes do thee environ now,
All power and wisdom's mine, and I know how
Thee to support and make them all to bow,
I will arise, and Shew my Sovereignty,
And make them to the Rocks and Mountains fly;
Though with the Powers of Hell they have combined,
I will pursue them, and they shall not find
A hiding place my vengeance to avoid,
Till by my fury they are all destroyed;
I will soon bring down the most Exalted head,
The Mighty Ones I into dust will tread;
Thy cause I will plead; Though I have silent stood,
I will be revenged for all the righteous blood
That has run down, even like a mighty Flood;
The day of vengeance shall no longer stay,
What's due to Justice they shall surely pay.
Besides the cruel wrongs thou dost repeat,
The blood of former Martyrs does entreat
Me to avenge their cause; I therefore will
Come down in fury and those Monsters kill,
For though I seemed to have forsaken thee,
Yet from all bondage I will set thee free;
Though I have thee afflicted heretofore,
I will turn my hand upon the
Bloody Whore
Shortly,
her place shall never know her more.
Because thou dost my Holy name profess,
I will break in pieces such as thee oppress;
Arm'd with Commission from the Great Jehove,
I will come down, and all thy griefs remove,
All weapons formed against my Churches shall
Unprosperous prove, for I will break them all,
All Kingdoms of the Earth shall now be mine,
And thou in beauty like a Queen shalt Shine,
And with thy Children in sweet consort sing,
Triumphant Hallelujahs to your King.
Zion.
Thy voice is to my ravished Soul so sweet,
I am revived, and set upon my feet;
I will speak thy Praise in Songs, because I see
That Glory near, which thou hast promised me;
And now, Great
Babylon,
who art my Foe,
My time's at hand, and thou shalt quickly know
My God has not forsaken me, for now
He will advance me, and make thee to bow;
•
hen shalt thou hide for shame thy wretched head,
Whilst I in triumph will upon thee tread?
••
cause thou upon me so long hast trod,
〈◊〉
in contempt hast said;
Where is that God
?
〈◊〉
therefore will rightly retaliate,
•
nd bring just vengeance on thy cursed pate,
The Insolent Triumph of the Romish Strumpet over the Protestant Church.
WHy do these
Heretics
so brisk appear,
And their
false Church
such jollity declare?
••
r silly Souls! 'It is now but Eighty seven,
•
nd soon you will find I with you will be even:
•
smile to think how much thou art mistaken,
'It is I am mounted high; Thou art forsaken;
•
ure thou are frantic, and thy senses fail,
To think that over me thou canst prevail,
•
final Conquest I shall make over thee;
•
nd swift destruction shall thy portion be.
〈◊〉
all my wounds I now have got a cure,
•
nd from your fiery darts I am secure:
•
ow am raised to the height of bliss,
•
nd all my Glory in its Zenith is,
•
am a Queen, and so shall still remain,
•
nd as Supreme I over the Earth will reign,
•
Pomp and Glory I must govern all,
The Mightiest Monarchs me their Mistress call.
How can I fall when such a Holy prop
•
oes me support as,
My Lord God the Pope.
The Great men of the Earth his Vassals are,
Who sits in grandeur in St.
Peters
Chair;
The Glorious Empire of the World he hath,
And he retains the keys of Heaven, and Death;
Think not that he regards the little tricks
Of the weak, ignorant, and damned Heretics,
Alas! He can make use, when e're he please,
Of
Peters
Sword, as well as
Peters
Keys.
He'l make his Canons roar louder than Guns,
To ruin those thou call'st,
Thy Protestant Son's;
If once his roaring Bulls give the Alarm,
He'l make all Christendom forthwith to arm
Themselves in my defense, who soon will work,
Thy overthrow; Alas! didst thou not lurk,
Hundreds of years in holes where none could see
Or understand what was become of thee?
He that then broke thy feeble force asunder,
Has still sufficient strength to hold thee under,
And in such strict Subjection thee will keep,
That thou e're long shalt not even dare to peep;
Am I not armed with the Stupendious power
Of all the Earth? Canit I with ease devour
Thy whole Concernments at one single mess?
Have not Skilful Cooks such meals to dress?
〈…〉
Imperial and the Royal Sword,
〈…〉
to be brandishit at my word;
Great
Britain's
King, and Catholic Nobles will
My Interest to promote, use all their Skill,
Oh! happy hour; Oh long desired day,
Great
James
doth now the Royal Scepter sway;
Ah! What a night of darkness has been here,
On me and mine, when nothing did appear,
But black despair, until this happy Reign;
And dost thou think e're to prevail again?
Is not the Sovereign Power in my hand?
I will make thee now submit to my command,
The Sacred Sword is once more given to me,
And all shall now obey the Holy See.
Heaven has beheld my sorrows, and therefore
In favor, me hath visited once more;
Nor can I now miscarry; For you see,
How wise our King, and's Secret Council be;
What e're you hope, 'tis certain I cannot fail,
When over Crowned Heads I thus prevail;
When Reverend Jesuits sit at the Helm,
They'll quickly raise up my
Jerusalem.
The former Governments for many years,
Ruin'd the Monarchy, and increased my fears;
The Old Foundations we will raze up quite,
And new ones raise, either by force or right;
Impudent Varlets question Royal pleasure,
Though from the Power Divine he takes his measure;
Why may not God's Vicegerent justly claim,
The same Dominion? And why not aim,
At such an absolute Sovereignty, that none
Shall contradict whatever he will have done?
If th' People rule, what use is there of Kings,
When Subjects may at pleasure clip their wings?
This with my Doctrine never will agree,
Where Will is Law, there's the best Monarchy.
This is the Government I approve of too,
'Twill strengthen me, and work thy overthrow;
A Parliament shall do what ere they please,
That so disturbed minds we may appease;
But if they fail; We have already seen,
That none of them for many years have been
Fit to be trusted; And their name I hate,
For they Eclipse the glory of the State;
They make the Crown seem but an Airy thing;
As good be nothing as not Absolute King.
Why may not Kings be as they were of old,
Why should they be in anything control'd?
I will have it here e're long as 'tis in
France,
'It is only that my Glory will advance;
I now perceive what made us lose the Game,
It was our slow proceedings caused the same;
Our timorous Spirits; But to my Joy I know,
We now have one who fast enough will go,
Delays are dangerous; The Sword is ours;
By Law declared; what need we other powers?
We may be counted Fools indeed, or worse,
If we cannot make the
Sword
command the
Purse;
And though the Nation be inslav'd thereby,
Who shall contend with Just Authority?
For Monarchy is so Divine a thing,
None dares gainsay what e're's done by the King.
He surely is accountable to none,
But God alone who set him on the Throne.
Your Protestants will to Providence impute
Their thralldom, and will presently grow mute,
For they poor pious Fools think the Decree,
Of Heaven falls on them, though from Hell it be;
And when their Reason is abused by it,
Religion then will teach them to submit,
For
Non-resistance
is a truth so clear,
Your Reverend Church-men preach it everywhere,
And well they may; Does not the Apostle
Paul,
Declare what doom will on Resisters fall?
For all who do resist Authority,
Are doubtless damned to all Eternity.
But seeing Tyranny does so odious look
To catch you Heretics we must hide the hook,
And of your Burdens give you present ease,
That afterward we may do what we please;
For since the Nation is returned back,
Dear Mother Church will never see them lack
Money nor Men, so that they all shall see,
My Purse as open as my arms now be;
Besides Great Sums the Catholics in
France
Have offered my Interest to advance,
Lewis
the
Great
vast Treasures will bestow,
If he thereby can work your overthrow:
The Pope will likewise drein his Treasures dry,
Before he will lose this opportunity
You to depress and me to set on high;
No Aid from Parliaments we need to crave
Without Demand money enough we have,
And thus the Commons we shall gratify,
By taking off the pressures which did lie
So heavy on them in the former Reign,
Whereby we hope their very hearts to gain.
Some others of thy Children we will please,
By giving of their Consciences some ease;
We'll give them Conventicle room that they
May let us steal the
Englishman
away,
And though the greatest part of them I see,
Are crafty Foxes and discover me,
Yet divers of them us do magnify,
Since we declared for their Liberty;
That Declaration hath great Service done,
And many discontented minds has won.
I odious strove to make the
former
Reign,
That of
our
Actings they might not complain;
So that they now confess, a Popish King
Is no such dangerous or frightful thing:
We managed all at such a subtle Rate,
One heretic we made another hate,
And their destruction we contrived so,
That blindfold they might utterly undo,
And ruin one another; Yet not see,
How subtly things were carried on by me.
And you will perceive within a little while,
We only did design you to beguile,
That you might quietly the halter take,
Or else be burnt in
Smithfield
at the Stake.
I laugh to see some of your Children join
With us, to bring about our blest Design,
These Mighty Statesmen, like unwary Fools,
To serve a present turn become my Tools;
I knew what they from Penal Laws did fear,
And did foresee how ease would them ensnare.
Look on the Army, and you will soon espy,
Not mine, but your destruction's drawing nigh;
What though you grin? No matter for your hate,
To rule by Law becomes a Sneaking State;
We value not what e're you prate or say
Regard to you will our Intrigues betray;
When you cantit bite, what hurt will barking do?
Nay in a while we'll spoil your barking too.
My Holy Mass begins now to go down,
Is boldly said in City and in Town,
For even in
London,
there two Chapels are,
To which without control all may repair,
And in the middle of that City stand,
With divers more in several Parts o'th' Land.
This, I assure you, fills my Soul with joy,
Nor do I matter though it some annoy.
Since I observe them guarded carefully,
By Protestants now in Authority.
Thou silly Wretch, do I not all command?
Is not the Kingdoms strength all in my hand?
The Sword and Scepter too, even all the power;
Such blessings Heaven upon my head does shower.
But yet our
Claws
and
Teeth
must not appear
Until more firmly all things settled are.
Yea, what doth further to my glory add,
Comes from the joyful news I lately had,
The
Turk
our
Pagan
Enemy, is overcome,
And forced to fly before all-conquering
Rome
?
Hungary
whose reduction cost so dear,
And who tooth' Heretics closely did adhere,
Is now recovered, and in tears returns,
And for her former deviations mourns:
The
Transilvanians
likewise, do comply,
And now submit to my authority;
With many other Protestants I could name,
Who in those Countries my Protection claim.
Ah! What a face of things does now appear,
This is my
Jubilee;
A glorious year;
England
and
Scotland
both returned are
Unto their Mother, and th' Apostolic Chair
Tho'
Ireland
still is unto me most Dear;
Yet all are mine; They all themselves submit,
And prostrate lie at Mother Churches feet;
Into my bosom they again are come,
And like the Prodigal are returned home.
What mighty favors are bestowed on me?
No Widdowhood, nor sorrow shall I see,
Ever hereafter
I shall sit as Q
•
een,
Though almost desolate I have lately been;
We sing
Te Deum,
and Great Gifts we send
For joy that now thy Power's at an end,
Thou art subdued;
Thy witnesses are slain,
They never more shall me torment again;
My Children now under their Mothers wings,
Are safe; Which Joy to Holy Father brings;
There's little more for me, or mine to do,
But since we have contrived thy overthrow,
That we now root thy name from off the Earth;
And this Design is almost at the birth,
And cannot fail, Vengeance will you or'ethrow,
The Plot is laid so strong and secret too;
And such great men therein concerned are,
That of success we never need despair,
My Chancellor and Loyal Judges will,
Spare for no Cost, no Pains, no Time, no Skill;
Nay they resolve their very Lives to spend,
Rather than not perform what I intend,
My brisk
Monsieurs,
and losty
Spanish
Dons,
Will overmatch thy Weak and Silly Sons;
Of murdering Villains I great numbers have,
As pliable as any
Turkish
slave,
Who at my beck will with their bloody Knives,
Massacre Fathers, Infants, Virgins, Wives.
Kill any but themselves; I am sure they'll doit,
And quickly lay them sprawling at my foot;
I have Irish Teagues and Tories still at hand,
To act the greatest mischiefs I command;
Bold hardened Miscreants who will never start,
If bid to tear out their own Mothers heart.
Faint hearted Rogues may melt with qualms and fears,
At Fathers groans, or Mothers bitter tears,
But mine, as little pity have, as sense,
And never are plagu'd with gripes of Conscience,
Many of these I have in constant pay,
For they can hunt and live upon the Prey;
Thy tender Infants that like Carps were stew'd,
In their own blood, their Teeth have often chew'd,
With human Fat, Candles they made, to light
Them in those horrid Banquets of the night.
Whatever 'tis my greedy Stomach craves,
Let me but nod, 'tis done by these my slaves.
They know no Scruples, Scorning to dispute,
But always act just like a
Turkish
Mute;
Nor need you wonder they do thus, since I
End
••
vour to persuade them certainly
That
••
ey do well, and will gain Heaven thereby.
For what will Holy Church, advance, is right,
Though never so hateful in
Jehovah's
sight.
Therefore besides those I did now describe,
I have vast numbers of my
Sacred Tribe,
My Clergy make a very numerous Host,
And wait but for my Word, in every Coast;
Nay in these Northern, and Heretical Regions,
I have in secret, many armed Legions,
The Priest, the Mon
•
, the Friar my Ensign carry,
The Jesuits are still my Janisaries;
Having such Troops as these to guard my Chair,
Sure it will make your Protestants despair,
That so invincible I now should be!
And that thy God hath quite forsaken thee.
Since he to me discovers so much favor,
My deeds sure to him are a pleasant savor,
Therefore th' Apocaly ptick Prophecy,
You very foolishly to me apply,
Who from pollution, and all Stains am clean;
Thou art that filthy Harlot he doth mean:
I am his Holy Church, and it is I
Thy threatenings, Thy God, and Thee defy.
BUT what approaches? Hark! methinks I hear,
A dreadful noise! What is it? Ah! I fear,
All is not well;
A Lyon
seems to
Roar,
The Echo comes too from the Eastern shore;
Dear Children wake! Rouze up and look about,
Guard all the Coasts with speed the Land throughout;
My very heart does tremble, Ah! I quake,
What shall I do! Ah! what course shall I take?
The Lyon of the North;
I doubt 'tis he,
That is foretold in ancient Prophecy,
What! in the midst of all my Jollities,
Must I meet with this terrible surprise,
And into such amazement now be thrown,
Just when I thought that all had been my own?
Oh blessed Virgin help! Ah pity show,
Scatter my fears, my enemies overthrow;
St.
Patrick,
and St.
Andrew, George
and all,
Unite your strength! Oh now prevent my fall,
Oh haste, make haste, or I am quite undone,
What shall I do? Oh whither shall I run?
Rome's
Angel Guardian, I do thee invoke,
To save our Church, and to divert this stroke;
You Saints and Martyrs who at Tyburn died,
Pray the blest Virgin to be on our side;
O mighty
Neptune,
with an angry brow,
Upon my Foes thy utmost vengeance show,
That this proud
Pharaoh,
whose ambitious mind
To ruin Mother Church hath now designed,
May never prevail; From landing, oh! him keep,
Let all his hopes be buried in the deep.
Why are the Sea's so calm? will they consent,
Him to preserve, to my sad detriment?
Ah! raise yourboistrous winds and swelling waves,
And in your bowels let them have, their graves,
Break all their Ships, let them sink down like lead,
And in the raging Seas be buried.
Look out you
English
Heroes, hoist your Sails,
Cursed be he whose heart or courage fails;
Fight valiantly, and then I need not fear,
That Eighty Eight will be a fatal year.
Ah! hark; He's landed, that's bad news if true,
And in the West. I dread what will insue,
What cursed Star bears Rule? Ah! cruel Fate,
The Sea, and Seamen both now show their hate,
What! none t' oppose, none that will them withstand?
What! suffer such an Enemy to land?
Are all the God's asleep on whom I call?
No they have heard me; and on him will fall.
Though he has seeped the Seas you will soon perceive,
Vengeance much longer will not let him live.
Chear up my gallant Soldiers; you I trust,
Will never fly; Therefore with speed you must,
Be all in readiness, and do not fear,
But fierce as Lions, 'gainst your foes appear;
Though he pas passed the Seas, yet let yourrage
Declare, he greater dangers must engage,
In glittering Armor now march bravely on,
Fight but like men, and then the day's our own;
You'll be Invincible, none can you oppose,
For you in Number, Courage, Skill, your Foes,
Do far exceed, I likewise do depend
Much on my Forreign Allies who will lend
Both Money, Men and Council, for the Cause;
Then down go all the Heretics and their Laws,
Their Houses, Lands, their Gold and Silver too,
We'll Seize, and then distribute them to you.
Hah! What's the matter; What bad news again!
How are things carried pray, at
Salisbury
Plain
We hear the Enemy is coming on,
With mighty force, and is opposed by none,
Our damned Heretical Army do declare,
That they to Popery sworn Enemies are;
Some to our Foes are gone, and more will go,
••
av'n pity us; Alas! What shall we do?
••
y more then that, the worst is still behind,
•
ost of the Greatest Peers with them are joined.
•
e hear they are an hundred thousand strong,
•
nd we much doubt they will be here ere long,
•
ll things against us now seem to combine,
•
s if our ruin all men did design
Such panic fears our senses do affright,
We neither strength nor courage have to fight,
Such Giants, as we hear, our Enemies are,
Whose Men and Horses both do armor wear
Their frightful whiskers and two handed Swords
No little terror to our men affords,
One of these
Brandenburghers
sure will be
Able to cut off many such as we.
But silence! Hark! Another Post! What now?
Bad Tydings still?—Alas I scarce know how,
Or what to tell you, but most certainly
Our Army does before the Enemy fly;
All, All is lost, Ah! Where now shall we run?
Shift for yourselves, sad times are coming on,
Sure so unfortunate none ever were,
Oh see how th' Heretics do laugh and jeer!
So great an Army scattered and gone,
Who soon might have a glorious Conquest now!
Had they resolved to face the enemy,
We quickly should have got the Victory.
But Stay! Stay! Stay! Here's more ill news I fear,
A Post from
Reading
I see drawing near,
Well what's done there—Alas the Town is taken,
I doubt that all our Saints have us forsaken:
Some were there slain, and other
•
put to flight;
The
Teagues
are killed; The
Scots
refuse to fight,
Nay which is worse, The King this night is gone,
Ah now my heart fails quite! w▪ are all undone:
Alas! must I be tamely forced to yield,
Must I thus cowardly forsake the Field,
[illustration]
Must all my hopes be blasted in a day?
Let Vengeance fall on those, who did betray
The cause I have carried on from age to age,
With deepest policy, and fiercest rage.
Fly Children for your lives; Oh! search about,
And strive to find some place of refuge out.
A Protestant.
See how they look, and with what dread and fear
These guilty wretches now fly here and there,
To hide their Heads? and skulk in holes alone,
And dare not now themselves for Papists own;
They post away, and hurry to and fro,
To
Dover, Portsmouth,
and
Gravesend
they go,
Their Priests and Jesuits are in great despair,
Throw off their Gowns, and run they scarce know where▪
Their Judges too that lately gave their Votes,
So learnedly from their dispensing Throats,
Who, what
Rome
would have done, durst ne`re deny,
But to all Arbitrary Power did comply,
Are routed now, and forced in haste to trudge,
Each wishing he had never been a Judge:
The Chancellor, that Mighty Man of sense,
Is nonplust now, how to escape from hence;
That Loyal Soul, that zealous Slave to
Rome,
The
Wappingers
on him pronounce his doom:
He that to them did always malice bear,
By providence, at last was taken there,
Others were seized that strove themselves to save,
Who in short time may their deme
•
its have.
Great
Nassaw,
like the rising Sun, appears,
Whose warming influence drys up all our tears,
Marching to
London
with his Noble train,
Whereby our dying hopes revive again:
But let us hear what
Zion
now does say,
Who seemed o'rewhelm'd with grief the other day.
Zion.
"Ah! I am still perplexed; although I stand
"Amaz'd to see these wonders in the Land,
"I know not yet how things with me may go,
"Nor what my gracious God intends to do:
"Whether my Foes are absolutely slain,
"Or whether yet they may not rise again,
"Whether my Children shall have equal share
"Of favor and protection, without fear,
"And whether those who did our Rights betray,
"And for a mess of Pottage, sold away
"Our dear bought Freedoms, shall now trusted be,
"As Conservators of our Liberty.
"Yet let things go as the great God shall please,
"(I must rejoice in this my present ease,)
"Who by his Glorious and Almighty Power
"Sent us relief in a most needful hour,
"Whereby my dreadful and most cruel Foe
"Received an amazing overthrow.
"But yet I find some struggling in my Womb,
"Another Birth I do expect to come,
"That God who hath this gracious work begun,
"Will greater things effect ere he has done,
"I intermissions have, now ease, then pain,
"Sometimes I soar aloft, then down again.
Having thus spoke she bowed, and with her tears
Bedew'd the parched Earth; when straight appears
A comforter by pitying Heaven then sent,
To raise her drooping Spirits almost spent,
And his approach unto her having made,
In most obliging terms thus to her said.
"Distressed Church, I fully know thy grief,
"And as thou hast received some relief,
"So God will hear thy sighs and fervent Pray'rs,
"And suddenly will wipe away all tears
"From thy wet Eyes, and all thy griefs expel,
And in sweet peace and safety thou shalt dwell,
"My Grand Design I have publicly made known,
"Each part whereof in time thou shalt see done,
"Wait but with patience; I, for
England's
good,
"Think naught too much; No not my dearest blood
"I equally my favor will extend
"To all whose Faithfulness shall them commend,
"Unto my service; and appear to be
"Lovers of
England's
Ancient Liberty.
"All Protestants I jointly will respect,
"And equally my People will protect.
"But yet the best deserving Men I will
"Imploy; and chiefly them encourage still.
"My subjects Hearts I would unite together,
"That nothing might divide them more forever.
"I none but treacherous Papists will disown,
"Or such as are sowrn Enemies to my Crown.
"To such (they must expect) I shall appear,
"(As Justice leads me to it) most severe.
"The Good and Virtuous I shall always cherish,
"That Truth and Goodness in my reign may flourish.
"My coming was designed to cover all,
"That Persecution upon none should fall
"In these poor Kingdoms; But that now at last
"Forgetting all the mischiefs which are past,
"Whereby ill men contrived, to bring about
"their Plots, and root the true Religion out,
"Not only here, but likewise in each Land,
"Where it established is by Christ's right hand;
"I now resolve, if God will prosper me,
"All Protestants shall safe and happy be,
"And live in perfect Love and Unity.
Protestant Church.
GReat Sir! your Speeches to your Parliament
Sufficiently discover your intent.
Yea they revive our Souls; neither do we
See cause to doubt of your Integrity.
〈1 page duplicate〉
〈1 page duplicate〉
But hope that God who such great things hath wrought,
And by your hand this strange Deliverance brought,
Will so endear you to the hearts of all
True Englishmen, especially those that call
Sincerely upon Heaven; That they may cry
With Pray'rs and Tears for you continually,
And never to the Throne of Grace draw near,
But you upon their tender Hearts may bear.
Your last most gracious offer, That you will ease
Your Subjects of so great a Tax, doth please,
And them obliges to that high degree,
They all will strive who shall most Loyal be.
Your Justice in asserting each man's right,
To worship God according to that Light
He hath received, will multitudes procure,
To own your Interest, and your Rights secure.
For who will not to
Caesar's
Cause be true,
When
Caesar
unto God doth give his due?
And the Almighty's Government will maintain,
Who over Conscience is sole Sovereign,
If any do the Civil State disturb,
On such you justly ought to put a curb,
But if like Men, and Christians they do live,
Doubtless just Liberty to them you will give.
Nor will our Parliament this Right deny,
Whose Protestant zeal, hath raised their Fame so high
For you we ought to praise the God of Heaven,
Who by your means such blessings hath us given,
When all our Liberties were near infring'd,
And
England's
Fundamental Laws unhing'd,
When all things both in Church and State did run
To ruin; and we judged ourselves undone,
You under God, have now restored our Laws,
And likewise have defended Zion's Cause.
The Mighty God (Dread Prince) chose you to be
Our only help in great extremity.
With double blessings may you both be Crown'd,
Who in compassion to us did abound.
My Children resolve unanimously
With you to stand and fall; To'live and die:
With hazard of your life their Chains you broke,
And off their necks removed the Romish Yoke;
With vast expense you this great act have done,
And of your Person have much danger run.
Shall I not then with all my Children cry,
We with our King and Queen will live and die?
Our lives we, under God, to you do owe,
And therefore whatsoever we can do,
Canit be too much; And in a grateful way
We ought to strive your goodness to repay;
We find our rising proves our Enemies fall,
Where are they now that did us then enthrall?
They digged a Pit, and in it fallen are,
Yea wonderfully catched in their own snare.
This is God's doing, and is marvelous,
Even to our Enemies as well as us.
And therefore now myself I must address,
Unto the God of Truth and Righteousness,
I will lift my Soul to him in Thanks and Praise,
And never forget his Wonders in these days.
The Churches Song of Praise and Thanksgiving to God for her late Gracious deliverance.
OH matchless Grace; Oh Love beyond degree,
Now I am certain there is none like thee,
In Heaven or Earth; I will Praise thee therefore,
For thou a Salve hast now found for my sore,
Transported by thy Love, with Joy I cry,
My ravished Spirit must exalt the High
And Mighty God, by whose unbounded grace,
My heart's enlarged to run the blessed race.
Thou shalt conduct me to the Living Springs,
From thence I will rise up as with Eagles Wings
Unto that heavenly Mount of Faiths desire,
Where thy Transcendent Glory I will admire;
And in those happy Seats of Bliss above
I will be embraced in thy Arms of Love.
I will hold thee fast, and never let thee go,
For by thy loss, Oh what a depth of woe
Did I fall into? What a dreadful case
Was I in, when thou Lord didst hide thy face?
If I have thee, I nothing else need trave,
Without thee (if all else) I nothing have;
Nothing without thee is of worth to me,
All things are vanity, compared to thee.
To be thy Portion, Lord, thou didst me choose,
And sure so great a grace I will never refuse,
Thou art my Savior, and my Heritage,
My Sanctuary too, from Age to Age;
I therefore evermore will dwell with thee,
And thou alone my hiding place shalt be.
When I was fallen, thou raisedst me on High
For which thy blessed name I will magnify,
Thou didst in mercy look on my distress,
When I, Lord, was in woeful heaviness,
Beset with cruel Foes, and could not s
••
The many dangers that incompast me;
Thou didst observe my ruin very near,
And thou didst suddenly for me appear,
Didst send thy Servant speedily away
To save me from the ravenous Beasts of Prey;
Thou, like a tender Father, couldst not see
Thy Children fail by
Romish
Cruelty;
Thy special favors may I never forget,
Let them with Power on my heart be set.
Ah! how unworthy was this sinful Land,
For whom thou didst stretch forth thy mighty hand,
To save and help them in that dreadful hour,
When all their hope was lost, and all their power?
Though thy own Children too unworthy were,
This did not hinder thy Parental care;
How earthly, unbelieving, Ah! how vain?
How did their Lives their
Holy Calling
stain?
Cold, Carnal, Senseless, dead; They seemed to be
A People laden with iniquity.
Deserving nothing at thy hands O Lord,
When thou this great deliverance didst afford,
I then did much bewail their faults and crimes,
Both those of old, and those of latter times;
Yet thou o'relookedst then unworthiness,
And camest down to save them ne'retheless.
Thou wonderfully didst make it appear,
That these strange works' which thou hast shown here,
Were like to those in
Egypt
long ago,
When thou didst
Pharaoh
utterly o'rethrow.
For when we thought we should have been destroyed,
And their dire vengeance never could avoid,
We saw them suddenly before us fall,
And could not do us any hurt at all.
A raging sea we seemed, before, to see,
Behind us was a raging Enemy,
But when thy chosen Servant did draw near,
The threatening waters soon divided were,
A sure presage God's presence too was there,
Who saved us from what we so much did fear;
These are thy doings, Lord, and Marvelous
Are all thy Dispensations unto us.
Nay let us not forget, this one thing more,
As worthy notice, as those named before,
The People of the Land divided were,
Nay to each other did much hatred bear,
Yet thou no sooner sent'st thy Servant hither
But they united, and were joined together
All as One man against their common Foe,
In prayers, in wishes and in Arms also,
Which gave me hopes that the set time was come,
Of thy great wrath against the Whore of
Rome.
Our Nobles and our Gentry did their part,
Assisting both with counsel, hand and heart,
Like our Old
English Heroes
they did rise,
And cheerfully espouse this enterprize.
Undauntedly they undertook the Cause
Of our Religion, Liberties, and Laws,
Their free-born Souls contemned the
Romish
Yoke,
And to a just revenge it did provoke
These Gallant Spirits who could not endure
The Jesuits should our slavery procure,
With so much impudence; that they seemed to laugh
At all our Laws, and at our Parliaments Scoff.
A great Convention, Lord, thou didst convene,
And didst unite them so that like brave men,
The Throne they did declare Vacant to be,
And it to fill again, did soon agree,
To the great Satisfaction of the Land,
And with their Lives they did engage to stand
By
William
thy Servant and our King,
Whom for our safety thou didst hither bring.
All this we saw performed by thee alone
Who dost abase and set upon the Throne,
To every man dost measure what is right,
And actest still what seems good in thy sight;
Ah! how didst thou confound, even in an hour,
Those dark Intrigues, contrived by the Power
Of bloody
Rome,
and carried on so long,
And by such Aids, that they grew mighty strong
Here and abroad; So that they durst to say,
All was their own, and they should have the day;
When in her heart she said;
I fit a Queen,
And never shall loss of Children see agen:
Yet then, Oh blessed Lord, thou heardest our cries,
And suddenly our Enemies didst surprise.
As soon as thy poor Protestants abroad
Heard these Strange wonders of our Gracious God.
It did their Spirits raise, and them enliven,
To sing the Praises of the God of Heaven;
Poor
Holland
that was so much threatened,
And to effect the work, all ventured,
Began thereat again to raise its head.
Then we were sore distressed, it was they
That to relieve us hastened away;
They 'gainst our Foes for our defense did stand,
Let them be dear to thee, and to this Land,
How were thy People strengthened thereby,
Who did before like withered branches lie,
Expecting mischief would upon them fall,
And Popery would overwhelm us all.
All Praise and Glory therefore now be given
Unto the Lord of Lord's, and King of Heaven;
O let the Throne surely established be
In righteousness; which will Establish me:
And let the King so wisely all dispose,
To please
••
s God, and disappoint his Foes:
Let his Court still with Virtuous Men abound,
And let no vicious Persons there be found;
This will most happy days to him procure,
And cause his Government long to endure.
Let
Scotland
to his Crown united be,
That we may live in peace and amity,
Incline their minds their Interest to discern,
And that our Union is their great Concern.
Do not forget poor
Ireland's
sad fate,
Destroy those Rebels who disturb that State,
O give our Armies Victory and Success,
Thy People save; Their Enemies distress:
This is my Prayer, and when this is done,
I will sing the Praises of the
Three in One.
Mean while let us our best Affections raise
To celebrate, in grateful Songs, his praise
Who has been our deliverer in these days.
An Hymn of Gratitude▪ and Thankfulness.
I do not in a lofty strain
Strive to revive Great
Hectors
Glory;
Nor the all-conquering Pagan Train,
Whose acts recorded are in Story;
Nor is it our Great
Williams
Fame,
Who came, and saw, and overcame.
Nor any of those Worthy Nine,
Nor
Alexanders
Great renown,
Whose Deeds were thought almost Divine,
When Victory did his Temples Crown;
But 'tis the Praise of God I sing,
Who hath wrought Wonders by our King.
My Heart and Tongue, shall both rejoice,
Whilst
England
sings Triumphantly,
And with a loud melodious voice,
Doth laud the name of God most High;
O'tis his praise; That Holy One
That I must magnify alone.
My Heart is warmed whilst I proclaim,
The praises of the God of wonder,
My lips shall glorify his name
Whose voice is like a mighty Thunder;
I will bless him, for 'tis he alone
Has vacated, and filled the Throne,
Whose Feet are like to burning Brass,
Whose Eyes are like a flaming Fire,
Who bringeth wondrous things to pass,
Him I adore, him I admire;
What changes hath he suddenly,
Made in Great
Britons
Monarchy?
My Soul and Pen shall both express
The Praises of Great
Judah's
Lion,
The sweet and fragrant Flower of
Jess,
The Holy Lamb; The King of Zion;
For He it is, and he alone
Has vacated and filled the Throne,
Whose Head is Whiter than the Snow,
That's driven with the Eastern Wind,
Whose Visage like a Flame doth show,
Confining all, yet unconfin'd.
•
is He who Marvels wrought of late,
•
o save a sinking, bleeding State.
•
e praise his name, who hath made known
The Man to us, he fixed upon,
•
o save us from the envious frown
O'th' bloody Whore of
Babylon,
••
Righteousness, Oh! let him Reign,
That nothing may his Glory stain.
•
or this great subject of my Verse,
Though discontented subjects should
Refuse God's praises to rehearse,
The Hills, the Rocks, and Mountains would
Make his deserved Praises known
For Wonders here so lately shown.
You twinkling Stars, which day and night,
Do your appointed circuit run,
•
weet
Cynthia
in thy monthly flight,
Also thou bright and flaming Sun,
Who to the Earth God's blessing bring;
Do you Great
Britons
mercies sing.
That all God's Foes both far and near,
Who Tyrannize and haughty be,
May all be smitten with great fear,
And meet the like Catastrophe,
As those who lately in this Land
Declar'd,
Their will should us command.
Let all men know; The Power Divine
Is absolute, and that alone,
None ever 'gainst him did combine,
But they were surely overthrown.
'It is He pulls down, and sets up too,
And who dares say,
What dost thou do
?
To the Discontented Subject.
COme Sir, let us a while debate
About great
Britons
Present State,
What is it you would have?
Isit Liberty as
Englishmen,
Or had you rather be again
A fettered
Romish
slave?
Are you so fond of Tyranny,
That you fain back again would fly
To
Egypt's
former fare?
Do you not know their Garlic's strong?
Their Flesh Pots have been poisoned long;
For shame come no more there.
Hath God Wrought wonders in our Land,
Even by another
Moses
's hand,
And yet when all is done,
Will you to
Egypt
show your love;
And slight the works of God above,
And back again be gone?
What Humour's this of Discontent,
That such a King and Parliament
You will not cleave unto,
By whom God hath such wonders done,
Who have such mighty hazards run,
To save the Land and you?
You lately seemed full of grief,
And greatly did desire relief,
And now 'tis come will ye
With sullen minds repine and say;
Things are not carried that same way
Which we did hope to see?
Ah! be not like
Haman
of old,
Who though exalted, yet b'ing told,
That
M
••
decai
also
•
s in the favor of the King,
•
id much sorrow to him bring,
Ah! no such hatred show
•
those who have an equal right
•
favor in their Princes sight,
And faithful Subjects are;
•
ho are Free-born as well as you,
•
hy may not they of Honor too
Expect an equal share?
•
that which pleaseth all the Land,
•
ith yourself Interest will not stand
How can it helped be?
•
all
England
wholly be undone,
•
nd be by Popery over-run,
To humor such as ye?
•
do not show yourselves again
Of the vile race of Cursed
Cain;
Must
Abel
have no Friend
But be observed with envious Eyes,
And by you made a Sacrifice
Until the World shall end?
O be not guilty of such pride,
Not to be on your Sovereigns side,
Unless he please to show
His indignation, and suppress
Those that love Truth and Righteousness,
And better are than you.
Can none be Loyal to the King,
But only those that roar and sing,
And drink his health each day?
Come donit mistake, for certainly
He shows the greatest Loyalty,
Who for him most doth Pray.
Let all good Protestants agree,
And live in love and unity,
For 'tis the only thing
That's pleasing unto God above,
And will procure to us his Love,
And other blessings bring.
Since God designs good unto all,
Why should we on each other fall,
Or show so ill a mind,
As by unjust, and evil ways,
To hinder that by our delays,
Which good men long to find.
Shall any Christian be so vain
To plead for Laws, that do profane
The Holy Sacrament?
Which Christ did never institute,
Nor any ought to prostitute
To such a low intent.
To that design and only end,
It was ordained let us attend,
Lest God offended be,
And bring his dreadful Judgments forth,
To cut us down in his great wrath
For such iniquity.
It's neither righteous, just, nor good,
And has too long already stood,
Oh! let it fall forever,
The King will stronger be hereby,
His subjects serve him cheerfully,
And all cement together.
An Hymn of Praise.
INstead of Grief Joy now appears,
And scattered are our dismal fears,
The Northern Lyon's come;
See how our haughty Foes do cry,
And a
•
〈◊〉
••
oks see how they fly,
〈…〉
ir sad doom.
•
f men refuse, and will not speak,
The Rocks and Stones will silence break,
For Heaven and Earth resolve
To Judge great
Babels
bloody Whore,
And she ere long shall be no more,
Her power shall dissolve.
The Star we did expect t' appear
•
s risen in our Hemisphere,
And warning gives to all,
Of wonders which will suddenly;
Amaze the World far off, and nigh,
For
Rome
must surely fall.
Strange and amazing Tragedies,
Kept secret long from all men's Eyes,
To light will all now come,
Such Viilanies as were never known,
Which Devils are ashamed to own,
Yet acted were by
Rome.
She that did say,
I sit a Queen,
And hoped no sorrow to have seen,
Now strangely is brought under;
Which sure could never have been done
By any hand but his alone
Who is the God of wonder.
And he who hath such Marvels wrought,
And with just vengeence down hath brought
England's
and
Zion's
Foe;
Will greater things effect e're long,
And cause his Saints another Song
To sing, than now they do.
For there are none stand in his way
But they must fall or him obey,
For God is risen up;
Those who have ruined good men,
Unless Repentance they obtain,
Must drink that very Cup:
For God a Righteous Judge will be,
For wicked men a scourge has he,
Let them be who they will;
He is a God that cannot lie,
And therefore will Impartially
On all, his Word fulfil.
Come therefore, and loud praise proclaim
Unto
Jehovah's
Glorious Name,
All you his People Dear;
Who long time have desired to see
An end of
Zion's
misery,
For her Salvation's near.
The Trial and Condemnation of Mystery Babylon, the Great Whore.
BUT what approaches! Hark! Methinks I hear
The Sound of dreadful Trumpets in mine ear,
To usher in God's day of wrath and Ire
On those who did against his Saints conspire;
The Great Assize, that happy day is come,
To Judge, and give the Whore her Fatal Doom,
She's charged with Treason 'gainst God's Holy Laws,
Impartial Justice now will try the Cause,
She's seized upon, and in the Jailors hand,
Who will produce her when he has command;
Jehovah
bids, that
Babylon
the Great
Be forthwith brought before the Judgment Seat.
Justice.
Most Sovereign Lord, who is it dares gain say▪
What thou command'st? I must and will obey;
Lo, here I bring the Scarlet Strumpet forth,
〈…〉
createdst Heaven and Earth;
Thy
Judgment Seat
she seems to slight and scorn,
Says
•
he sa
•
guiltless as the Child unborn.
Jehovah.
"Her crimes lay open, and her facts declare,
"Turn up her
••
irts and let her faults appear,
"Let th'Universe by her indictment see
"The cause of my most Just severity.
Justice.
Dread Sovereign of the World! I will proceed,
And will her
black
•
ndictment
loudly read,
Come forth great Whore! & hear thy dismal charge
W
•••
n s
•
all
•
by proofs be evidenced at large;
By th'name of
Babylon
thou art hither Cited,
And by the name of Whore thou stand'
•
t Indicted
Thou void of Grace and God's most holy Fear,
To Satan's Machi
•
ations didst adhere;
With him to Plot against thy Sovereign Prince,
To whom thou oughtst to yield Preeminence
In Ancient times he was thine only
Spouse,
(Our Holy Law no
Bigamy
allows,)
Yet thou base him perfidiously forsook,
And to thy
•
elf another Husband took,
And with a graceless Impudence art led,
By thy lewd train, to an
Adul
••
ous Bed;
Thou hast dethron'd him, and thy Whorish face,
Sets up a monstrous Traitor in his place,
To whom thou hast blasphemous Titles given,
Exa
•
ting him above the God of Heaven;
Thou hast not only plaid th'
Adulteress,
But plain Idolatry thou dost profess;
Of T
•••
son, Murder Theft, abhorred things,
Of burning Cities, poisoning of Kings,
Of
••
dermining States, and furthermore,
Of Spoiling Trade and making Kingdoms Poor,
Of horrid Plots of causeless bloody Wars,
And of contriving cruel Massacres,
Thou guilty art; Thy bloody rage has hurld,
Millions of Innocen's out of the World,
Prodigious numbers have in divers Lands
Been sacrific
•
d by thy blood-thirsty hands;
Insatiate Butcheries that know no end,
Thou stab'dst men when thou pity didst pretend;
In times of Peace thy horrid rage has shed
Blood without Measure, thou hast murdered;
(
Perfidious wretch
) thy nearest Neighbors when
They thought themselves the most secure of men,
Thou hast made currents of their guiltless blood
To run like waters of a mighty flood;
Yea void of pity your inhumane Rage
Destroy'd the Saints and spared no Sex nor Age,
Speak bloody Whore, hold up thy graceless head▪
Guilty or not? By Law thou art to plead.
Babylon.
Look down▪ blest Virgin, and bid Justice stay,
Speak to thy Son to drive my foes away;
You glorious Saints who near St.
Mary
stand,
In my
•
istress lend me your helping hand;
All Angels and Arch-Angels I invoke,
To strengthen me, and to divert the stroke;
These Heretics will work my overthrow,
I am amazed I know not what to do!
Beelzebub
What needs my Darling thus to stand and pause?
Thou knowest the Custom of our Romish Laws,
Though black as hell, yet be not so forlorn,
Swear that thou art guiltless, as the Child unborn;
What violence to Heretics you do,
Is Lawful, honest and your duty too.
Justice.
Plead, vile Delinquent! or thou shalt receive,
The fatal sentence which I am to give.
Babylon.
I do affirm the Charge is false, and I
All Points of this Indictment do deny;
Produce your Proofs, I will stand in just Defense
Of my apparent spotless Innocence.
Justice.
THat like a
Harlot,
of thine own accord,
Thou hast forsaken thine espoused Lord,
Will be made evident to thy disgrace,
•
y clear
Probation
in its proper place.
•
ou say that you your God can daily make,
Which is an Idol of a
Wafer-cake.
•
f thou dost
Shrines
and
Images
adore,
And proved art th'
Apocalyptic Whore;
•
f thou upon the
Scarlet Beast
dost sit,
And lewdness with so many
Kings
commit,
•
t clearly follows from these
Marks,
that thou
Art a mere
Strumpet,
and hast
broke
thy
Vow,
•
f thou art by the
Papal Edict
led,
•
is-owning Christ, and making that thy Head,
The consequence is clear, for thou must be
Guilty of
Whoredom
and
Idolatry.
And to examine thy notorious deeds,
This great
Tribunal
out of hand proceeds:
Call in the Witnesses,—
Waldenses, Albigenses,
Protestants of
Piedmont, Savoy,
&c.
DRead Lord▪ We're here,
And with our Just complaint do now appear,
That Bloody Whore, the Prisoner at the Bar
Has followed us with a perpetual War,
Because we would not to her Idols bow,
Nor her cursed Edicts, and vile Laws allow.
About the dismal year of fifty five,
A dreadful Massacre she did contrive
Within the territories of
Savoy,
Where thirty thousand Souls she did destroy
In three days time; Curs'd
Edicts
bid them turn,
To
Popery,
or they must Hang, or Burn.
Which when those
Innocents
refused to do;
Most horrid
Execution
did ensue,
Our Brethren's brains out of their Heads were beaten
And by cursed Villains fry'd and after eaten;
Our Children rent to pieces; Thrown to Dogs,
And our dear Pastors flung as Meat to Hogs,
Others on Pikes into the Air were tost,
And many Others they alive did roast;
Some ti'd with Ropes they pierced unto the Hearts,
And hung up Others by their
secret parts;
Houses and Barns▪full they have burnt, so that
Our
sufferings
are beyond an
Estimat.
Bohemia, Germany, Poland, Lithuania,
&c.
TO satisfy this cruel
Strumpets
Lust,
Some thousands have been turned unto dust,
Our Towns, and famous Cities of renown
She hath dis-peopled, burnt, or broken down;
The ruins still appear, and desolations,
In many places of our spoiled Nations;
Great multitudes un-numbered she hath slain,
Which in the Field unburied did remain.
Our Brethren they have hung upon a Beam▪
And then consumed them in a lingering Flame,
Some she has into boiling Cauldrons put,
And many others into pieces cut,
Without respect unto the Hoary Head,
Into their Throats they poured down melted Lead,
And many other deaths she did contrive,
Some burned were, and others flayed alive.
Into deep Mines, three thousand Souls and more,
At several times were tumbled by this Whore,
Because they would not their Religion leave,
And unto Romish superstitions cleave.
That worthy man
John Huss
was burned to death,
For owning of the Apostolic Faith;
Jerome
of
Prague,
to fill her Measure up,
She made soon after drink that woeful cup,
Twere endless to enumerate our grief;
From thee, Just Judge, we do expect relief.
France.
AH! How shall I my inward grief disclose?
What Tongue is able to recount my woes?
Prodigious numbers of my natives have,
By this Whores means, found an untimely grave,
The Barb'rous Harlot, would not be content
To Kill, or drive them into Banishment;
But with unheard of Cruelty she must
Their Bodys mangle, to asswage her Lust;
Some hanged in Water, yield their strangl'd breath,
Some brained on
Anvils,
some were starved to death,
Some hall'd with
Pullies
till the top they meet,
With heavy weights, and loads upon their Feet,
Rapit Maidens stabbed, poor Infants yet unborn
From
Mothers Wombs,
by
bloody hands
were torn;
How many thousand guiltless Christians were
Butcher
•
d in the
Parisian
Massacre?
Some broke on Crosses, some were cut in twain,
Whilst others languished in lingering pain;
Our worthy Kings have lost their noble lives,
By Jesuits Poison, and by Monkish Knives.
I can produce an uncontroul'd record
Of many thousands murdered by her Sword,
It would require whole volumes to transcribe
The bloody acts of this infernal Tribe.
Deep dolour hinders what I would say more,
O glorious Judge! Avenge me on this Whore.
Italy, Spain, Portugal, Low Countrys,
&c.
REnowned Judge! those Witnesses that have
Their grief presented, and do Judgment crave,
Save us much labor, for we heretofore
Have felt the same from this blood-thirsty Whore.
Besides, being next her seat, and near her power,
Her greedy Jaws our Brethren did devour;
With cruel spite, and without intermission,
We have been tortured in her Inquisition;
No Tongue can speak, the unexampled terror
Of that cursed Pattern of Infernal Horror;
They count it mild when they our persons burn
And Wives and Children into Ashes turn,
They say they are courteous, when our Throats they cut,
Or when in Dungeons (dark as Hell) we are put,
They say they favor us, when they'll employ
Their Daggers, Pistols, Axes to destroy;
In lingering flames they did our Brethren roast,
On Halberts tops we saw our Infants tost.
This we have suffered, and abundance more,
And all by means of this Infernal Whore.
Ireland.
COuld deepest grief receive additions, I
Would give examples of her cruelty,
I can her in more monstrous colors draw,
Than bloody
Nero
or
Caligula.
Those horrid tortures, which my Brethren say
She exercised on them, the same I may
Affirm t' have suffered, by the instigation
Of this vile Strumpet, whose abomination
Stinks in the Nostrils of each civil Nation,
Her cursed Priests, when first they did begin
Our Mas
•
acre, proclaimed, it was a sin
Unpardonable, if they durst to give
Quarter, or our necessities relieve;
Some they stripped naked, and then made them go
Through Bogs and Mountains, in the Frost and Snow,
Men, Women, Children, then were butchered,
And all that spake our Language punished;
The very Cattle, if of English breed,
They
•
lashed and mangled that they could not feed.
With joy that Romish and Rebellious brood
Have washed their hands in English Martyr's blood,
Thousands of naked Protestants, that fled
From these cursed Villains, have been famished,
Their Faithless Gentry that pretended love.
Perswaded th' English, that they would remove
Their goods to them, but when possession got,
They like perfidious Wretches cut their throat,
Numbers of naked Women, they did drive
Into a Barn, and Burnt them all alive,
Each Sex and Age that could not from them fly,
Did by these blood Hounds without mercy die.
Once at the fatal Bridge of
Portladown,
A thousand Souls these Miscreants did drown,
A Couple (with five Children) first they hung,
And in a hole th' expiring Bodys flung,
The youngest on the Mothers Breast did stick,
Cries, Mammy, Mammy, yet is buried quick,
Some hackt to pieces: travelling Women stripped,
And half born Infants from their bellies rip'd,
Which (with their Mothers) hungry Dogs did eat,
And Swine fed on them as on common meat.
When some poor Souls in burning houses cry,
The Villains said,
How sweetly do they fry
?
When Holy Scripture in the Flames were cast,
They cry,
'tis Hell Fire,
and a lovely blast,
That blessed Book when some have trampled on,
They cry,
Plague on it
!
that has the mischief done;
They made poor Wives their Husbands blood to spill,
And trembling Youth their aged Parents kill,
They forced the Son to stab his dearest Mother,
And caused one Brother to destroy another;
Some they put fast in stocks, then teach a Brat
To rip them, and make Candles of their Fat,
How many Virgins did they ravish first?
Then with their Hearts-blood quench their eager thirst;
Some they did bury just unto the head,
And left them on surrounding grass to feed.
Stuck fast on tender-
•
o
•••
grave Matrons were,
And Virgins hanged up in their Mothers hair,
Some with their
•
nali gu
•
s out, were forced to run,
About a tree until their
••
e was gone;
The Mout
•
s o
•
W
••
th
•
Ministers they c
•
t,
Unto their Ears. betwixt their jaws they put,
A monstrous g
•
g, then
〈◊〉
Romish coff,
Bid them go Preach their Mouths were large enough.
And now thou
•
eem
••
the same thing to design,
All their Just Liberties to undermine,
By great
Tyr
•
o
•
n
•
ls
power, yet once again,
By whom so many Protestants were slain,
And barbarous Acts to
•
merly done by him,
To fill thy measure up unto the brim.
Alas! who n
•
w can cast an eye on me,
But must lament to see my misery,
And what a sad condition I am in,
By this v
••
e Strumpets wicked Plots agen?
Who hopes her craving appetite once more,
To fill and glut with Protestant blood and gore,
By those cu
••
t Furies. Who did boast w
••
h Joy,
They once two hundred thousand did destroy,
We therefore pray as others did before,
For a Just Sentence on this bloody Where.
Scotland.
OH! Monstrous horror! Oh abhorred sink,
Of villainy! O bloody thr ats that drink
The bloods of innocents! which oft they quaft,
As freely as a common Mornings
•
raught!
Thousands of mine were butchered by this Whore,
In that poor Nation that has spoke before,
The suff'rings of my guiltless Nauves were
Equal with theirs in every title there,
Yet this blood-thirty Curtezan of
Rome
Was not content, but tortured me at home,
Some burnt, some hanged, some scourged, some banished,
Some drowned, and some in dungeons murdered,
A sinking grief forbids me to enlarge,
Or else with ease I'd aggravate her Charge,
Since Gospel Light did in my borders shine,
She thirsted to destroy both me and mine,
Her Imps all parts, Like filthy Locusts, fill,
And such as they cannot delude they kill;
Her Wolves put on the habit of my sheep,
And in their folds destroy them as they Sheep;
They have an Art to work upon the weak,
That they God's order should in pieces break,
Under pretences of Reform'd Devotion,
They instigate the Ra
•
ble to Commotion;
That in those troubled waters they may fish,
And bring about their long expected wish;
Their cursed Politicks have been employed
To ruin those that they have so decoy'd.
A thousand Forgeries they do invent,
To charge their Plots upon the Innocent,
That (whilst they Act the Rogues in Masquerade)
Poor guiltless Saints their Victims may be made,
Thus have I opened something of my grief,
And from the Judge expect a quick relief.
England.
HAD I as many Tongues at my command,
As
Argus
Eyes or as
Briareus
hands,
scarce could in a Century express
One half of my unspeakable distress!
In every age I had some Sons of Light,
That would discover
Rome's Egyptian
night,
Yet they no sooner on the Stage appear,
But that her setting Dogs like Blood-hounds were
Upon the scent, and never le
•
t pursuit,
Until to death they did them persecute,
My Royal Edicts this bold Whore has broke,
And on my neck clapt her tyrannick Yoke;
Vast treasures from my Natives were extorted,
And her Exchequer to enrich transported.
Prodigious Sums she yearly squeezed hence,
For Pardons, Obits, Annals, Peter pence)
And through each Land where she her triumphs led
Whole swarms of Locusts Priests and Friers bred,
These (as the
Janizaries
to the
Turk
Were faithful Slaves still to promote her work,
Whilst to maintain these Drones, she swept away
The Fat and Wealth of Nations for their prey.
Such as would not be by her witch-craft led,
Were Tortur'd, Murder'd, Burnt or Massacred,
The Papal Beast could in a frollick tell,
I was his Fountain inexhaustible.
She planted Priests and
Ganymeds
she rooted
Within my Bowels, which the Land polluted
With such a Pest of vile debaucheries,
As Pagans. Turks, and Infideis, outvies,
She crushes any that her acts opposes,
My Kings she Poisons, Murders, or Deposes;
Some she deludes her Sovereignty to own,
And does instruct them to betray the Crown,
Her Lurking Vipers menace me with Storms,
Like
Egypt's
Frogs in pestilential swarms;
She is so greedy nothing will suffice,
Unless I am made a general sacrifice.
'It is known to all the Earth how many ways,
She martyred Protestants in
Marian
days.
Then was I made a dismal fiell of Blood,
Which run like currents of a swelling Flood,
She stirs the
Spaniard
in a great bravado,
For to invade me with his proud
Armado;
The Hellish Power Treason she prepares,
At once to blow up Commons, Kings and Peers;
Her hellish brands (without a spark of pity)
Consum'd to Ashes my Imperial City.
My Justices she does assassinate,
For many years she has been carrying on
A Damn'd intreague for my destruction,
And all the ways that Satan prompts her to
Contrive my fall, she's ready still to do,
Her spite and malice nothing will abate,
It's still more deadly and inveterate,
Dread Providence shall ever have my thanks,
That has discovered her Infernal
•
ranks;
Yea lately she much innocent blood hath shed,
And divers worthy men hath Murdered,
Nay so insinuating too was she,
That she persuaded his late Majesty
To taste of her intoxicating Cup,
Which he unto his detriment drank up,
Whereby the Church and State were never o'rethrown
Only to humor Cruel
Babylon:
These with her other Crimes, considered,
I beg she justly may be Sentenced.
The Evidence summed up.
O Gulf of horror! O profound Abiss,
Was ever mischief half so black as this?
Thou monstrous Whore, what language can express
The boundless measure of thy wickedness?
Throughout the earth thou hast such mischief wrought,
As is amazing to a human thought;
It would compel a heart of Stone to melt,
When it revolves what Protestants have felt.
Thy bloody fury and Infernal rage,
Has persecuted them in every age,
Thou madest the Magistrates their Enemies,
And all the tortures that thou couldest devise,
Thou didst inflict, as History to us shows,
Some thou didst hang by th'head, some by the toes,
Yea Millions thou didst burn and broil on coles,
And others Starve to death in stinking holes.
Some of them thou didst cut in pieces small,
And Infants brains didst dash against the wall.
Upon their bodies thou didst tread like dung,
Thou hadst no mercy upon Old or Young;
By thy cursed Crew were Women ravished,
Who then (like Butchers) knocked 'em on the head,
Some had their Eyes and tongues by thee pulled out,
Some were made harborless and forced about
To wander, till in Woods and dismal Caves,
They found their woeful and untimely Graves,
What rocky heart but justly may admire,
Thy rage that made poor Children to set fire,
To fatal Piles in which their Parents dear,
In cruel flames consumed to ashes were;
Thy wicked Agents have some Millions slain,
Who did endure the most inhumane pain
Thy Bishops, Monks, and Friars, could devise,
Whose blood to me for speedy vengeance cries.
The ways thou tookest to free a Soul from error,
Was unexampled flesh-amazing terror
Of horrid Racks, whereon a man must lie,
Tortur'd to death, and dying cannot die;
Accursed Wretch! didst thou not give Commission,
For to erect thy bloody Inquisition,
That loathsome Dungeon and most nasty Cell,
A place of horror representing Hell?
Where nothing is so plentiful as tears,
Where Martyred Protestants can find no ears
To hear their cries and lamentable moans,
Nor hearts to pity their extorted groans,
Where Saints in torment all their days must spend
Not knowing when their sufferings will have end,
Thousands by thee were in
Bohemia
slain,
Whose Carkasses unburied did remain.
Thou madest thy Vassals fall upon that Nation,
On no less penalty than their damnation,
Didst thou not promise upon that condition,
To give them full and absolute remission?
The vilest Wretch that on the Earth has stood,
You fully pardoned if he'd shed the blood,
Of one
Bohemian.
O stupendous rage!
Not to be paralleled in any Age;
But by thyself, 'twas judged
De Alva
's crime,
That he destroyed no more in six years time
Than eighteen Thousand Souls; were they so few
In the account of this blood-thristy Crew?
But if the Wretch, (
De Alva
's) bloody Bill
Come short in numbers, yet his hand did fill
It up with Torments; dreadful to re
•
erse,
The very mention cannot choose but pierce
A Marble Heart, Make Infidels relent
Torments that none, but Devils could inven
•
But if all this was over little still,
His Predecessers did enlarge the Bill:
For from the time thy Hellish Inquisition
Did from the Devil first receive Commission,
By cruel torments (which they still retain)
There were a hundred fifty thousand slain,
From that black season, when the hellish rage
Of Jesuits acted on the
European
Stage,
In
England, France,
in
Italy,
and
Spain,
By thy accursed bloody hands were slain,
Nine hundred thousand Souls or thereabout,
Ere many years had run their circuits out;
Of poor
Americans
by Cruel
Spain.
In fifty years were many Millions slain;
The poor
Waldenses
whose enlightened Eye,
Thy filthy Whoredoms quickly did espy,
Thou hast with raging Persecutions rent,
And murdered Parents with their Innocent
And harmless Babes. Thy more than barb'rous Crew,
Their cursed hands did in their blood imbrew,
At once were Eighty Infants famished,
And many thousands basely murdered.
When some have fled into obscurest Caves,
Thy Villains made their hiding place their Graves,
What part of
Europe,
now can make their boast,
And say they have not tasted (to their cost)
Of thy malignity? What shall I say
Of
Germany,
whose marty'd Spirits pray
For speedy vengeance on thy cursed head?
That Sea of Blood thou hast in
Ireland
shed,
Cries night and day for Justice; now I fix
My serious thoughts upon black sixty six;
Thou bloody Strumpet, How canst thou repair
The loss of
England's
great Imperial Chair?
How many Rich men were to Beggars turned.
When that brave Isle's
Metropolis
was burned
By thy accursed fire-brands of Hell,
Incarnate Devils without parallel?
Brave Merchants of their great estates bereft,
To day Rich men, tomorrow nothing left;
Their Wives and Children quite forlorn became,
Their substance all consumed in the Flame.
But to conclude; I have not yet forgot
Thy Powder Treason, nor thy modern Plot
Nor all thy dismal Villanies that were
Done in the
Meri
•
dolian
Massacre,
Should I but recapitulate thy charge,
And speak of all thy Villanies at Large,
'T would fill vast Volumes; Often did I see
The Lord of Life was crucified by thee,
When his dear members Blood by thee was shed,
Numberless numbers basely murdered:
Yet still thou hast the Impudence to say,
That thou art Innocent even to this day,
Yea thou proceedest as thou hast begun,
And lately a great Monarch hast undone,
Whom thou didst so delude, that he did try
T'enslave us under Romish Tyranny,
And probably thou hadst attained thy end,
But that God did to us deliverance send:
And did defeat thy Hellish Enterprize,
Throwing thee down, that Zion might arise;
Yea thy Espousals thou didst often break,
Canst thou deny it? Shameless, Strumpet speak.
Babylon.
"I am the Mother Church, and hence deny
"That filthy name I am indicted by,
"The odious Epithet of Scarlet Whore
"Is daily laid unjustly at my door;
"I am Christ's Church, his Spouse, and only Love,
"His undefiled one, and spotless Dove:
"Pray then forbear the Sentence, look about
"To find that Whore, and grand Delinquent out,
"Bold Heretics who never would adhear
"To the true Faith and Apostolic Chair,
"Have born my just rebukes, some more, some less,
"As was their Pride, Rebellion, Wickedness.
Judge.
Thou graceless Wretch thou art berest of shame
How darest thou thus deny thy proper name?
Christ's Church his Members never did annoy;
Nor Persecute, and Millions thus destroy.
'It is to no purpose for thee to dispute,
For all thy Forgeries I can confute,
I am thy Judge, and never will pass by
Thy horrid acts and Bloody Villany.
The time's at hand when I will fullfil my word,
And in just fury draw my glittering Sword,
My frown shall make thy proud foundation quake,
And all the Pillars of thy House I will shake.
Dost think because I did forbear so long,
That I will not revenge my Children's wrong?
What I resolve to do, or will command,
No Pope, nor Devil ever can withstand,
He that presumed great Monarchs to depose,
Shall soon be tumbled down by some of those
Whom he so crushed; from Hell he did ascend,
And thither shall be flung down in the end,
He'l surely fall and never rise again;
The hope thou hast of him is therefore vain,
There's no recalling of the Sentence gone,
Thy Execution day approaches on.
Truth.
Most glorious Judge since this bold Whore denies
Her filthy lewdness, and Adulteries,
Let me but prove it, and proclaim her shame,
'It is known that I a faithful Witness am,
It has been Evidenc'd by Vision clear,
That some strange Monster should on Earth appear;
Which by imperfect views did first amaze
Sagacious minds, when they on it did gaze,
Which made men's Judgments to divide asunder,
To see an object of unusual wonder.
A Woman! City! And a Scarlet Whore!
The like on Earth was never seen before;
A Woman in her pompous glory dressed,
And sitting on a monstrous horned B
•
ast,
Who is deciphered by Prodigious things,
His very Horns (explained) are Crowned Kings;
And then this mighty Wonder to complete,
She's placed on a seven hilled Seat,
She's stilled a Woman and a Whore, because,
She once submitted to Enacted Laws,
As other Women do, when they do wed
A Husband, and enjoy a Marriage Bed;
And who this Woman is▪ shall now be known,
Her proper title is (Great
Babylon
)
Who in great Pomp and Royal State doth ride,
Excelling haughty
Jezebel
in pride,
Who in our Modern times hath boasting been,
That she rules all Men as a Mighty Queen,
Trampling on Kings and Crowned Potentates,
Commanding Kingdoms, Common-wealths, and States,
Requiring Subjects blindly to obey,
Pressing the Beast, and Horns to Kill and Slay,
At such a rate, as that all
Christendom,
Like Butchers bloody Shambles are become.
If by this mark she is not understood,
Neither by Garb, Beast, Actions, or by Blood,
To other ways of proof, I will quickly come,
And show this Whore to be the Church of
Rome.
The Woman which th' Apostle
John
beheld,
Arayed in Purple, and in Pomp upheld,
By that Blasphemous, Scarlet-color'd Beast,
That was with Gold, and Stones of value dressed,
Holding a cup full of abominations,
And black pollutions of her fornications,
That with great Kings Adultery commits,
And on a sev'n-hill'd Habitation sits;
That 'tis the City which so proudly reigns
Over the Kings of th' Earth; but all these notes,
(And what besides the blessed Spirit quotes)
With Papal
Rome
exactly do agree,
She therefore must this bloody Strumpet be;
If all the marks of this great Whore are given,
Will not meet anywhere so plain and even,
As on the Church and People I did name,
Then certainly she is the very same;
For it is evident that there is none,
May be so fitly styled
Babylon.
'Twas she that took the Word of God away,
And by a string of Beads taught men to pray;
She robbed the Laity of the blessed Cup,
And spoiled the Feast where Children came to sup,
At the Lord's Table, where they used to mind
The blessed things their Savior left behind,
She did set up her superstitious Mass,
As rank an Idol as yet ever was,
Commanding adoration to be given,
Of equal honor with the God of Heaven;
Imposing Vows, unwarranted Traditions,
Implicit Faith and thousand superstitions;
Pretended Miracles, apparent Lies,
Damnable Errors, and fond Fopperies;
She clogs the Conscience, and to make all well,
Boasts all her dictates are infallible.
Did
Babylon
the burning work begin,
Make a hot furnace? Thrust God's
Worthies
in?
This Church herein hath driven such a trade,
That thousands, broiling Martyrs she hath made,
She sets the Pope above the Holy One,
The great Jehovah and his blessed Son.
It is she declares him Universal Head,
'It is she forbids the Bible to be read.
'It is she that first did from the Faith depart,
'It is she that wounded Zion to the Heart,
'It is she hath been the occasion of all evil,
'It is she advanced the Doctrine of the Devil,
'It is she that taught her Sons to swear and lie,
To vouch▪great falsehoods, and plain truths deny,
'It is she that did forbid the Marriage Bed,
Whilst her vile Clergy such ill Lives have led;
Was it not she that Canon did create,
Commanding People to abstain from Meat,
Which God gave license unto all to eat?
That all may know we do to
Rome
no wrong,
A little Book will published be ere long,
That will make it most evident and clear,
That only Papal
Rome
's intended here;
If from this charge she can herself defend,
Then may she make the Judge and Law her friend,
Or if she can produce another Tribe,
To whom we may this Character ascribe,
With greater clearness than we do to her,
We will consent her sentence to defer.
Judge.
Rome,
since thou canst not make a fair Defense,
And show to all the World thine Innocence.
'It is very evident that all these things,
Have been fulfilled, on Kingdoms and their Kings,
And now if there no other people be,
That did the like, then thou alone art she;
Let thy denials trouble men no more,
Thou only art the bloody Scarlet Whore,
Therefore in Justice I at length am come,
(Being Long provoked) to pass thy final Doom.
The Sentence.
ROME! Thou hast been indicted by the Name of Mystery Babylon, Mother of Harlots, Scarlet-coloured Whore, False Church , and Pretended Spouse of Jesus Christ; and thou art found Guilty of all the Horrid and Prodigious Crimes following: That thou didst Apostatize from the Holy Religion of God and his Son Jesus Christ; and didst advance the Pope or Man of Sin, and hast Sacrilegiously attributed and given to him those Names and Titles which belong only to God, and the Great Er • a •• el, magnifying his Decrees in wicked Council, above the Laws of God, and hast made void the Laws and Constitutions of the Gospel; making the Church National, and forming whole Kingdoms into one Universal Church. Thou hast insinuated thyself into the Courts of the Emperors, Kings, and Princes of the Earth, persuading them to comm • t Fornication and Idolatry with th • e, to the utter R • in and Destruction of many of them, as well as of several Peers, Noblemen▪ & others, of all Ranks and Degrees. Thou hast contrived innumerable Treasons, Rebellions and S • ditions; thereby endeavoring to betray Kingdoms a • d States, and to subject them to the Pope and See of Rome. Thou hast labored to Corrupt and Debauch all Nations by countenancing and allowing Stews and • othel-houses, where filthy and abominable Sodomy, and Adulteries are pra • ti •• d; Hast murdered the best of Men, even the Saints of Jesus, putting them to all manner of cruel Tortures and Deaths, that with the Devil's assistance could be invented; Ripping up Women with Child, causing thy villanous Sons to ravish Chast Women and Virgins, and then barbarously Murthering them. Thou hast Burned Thousands alive, Roasted many on Sp •• s, Thrown worthy Christians into Furnaces of boiling Oil; Blown their Heads in pieces with Gun-powder; Fleaing off their Skins alive; Starving several to Death, and exercising on them abundance of other hideous Torments. Thou hast made Wives to be Widows, and Children E • therleis, Towns and Cities to be without Inhabitant; Hast burned famous Cities, and destroyed dive • s Countries by Fire, Sword, and other lamentable Devastations, and hast endeavor'd to enslave others, by depriving them of their Just and Good Laws, Liberties, and Properties. Thou hast not only murdered the Bodies, but likewise the Souls of multitudes of People. In short, Thou hast been guilty of shedding a mighty mass of innocent Blood, by cutting off Millions of Men, Women and Children without cause, and many other unspeakable Enormities hast thou committed. For all which horrid Crimes thou hast been Legally Indicted and Tryed, and against which thou hast made no defense: And therefore by the Laws of God, Nature and Nations, thou ough • est to be Punished 〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 according to the following Sentence. Thou shalt be thrown off the Ten Horn'd Beast in every Kingdom whereon thou hast sat, and all the 7 Vials of God's Wrath shall successively be poured out upon thee, by the Angel, out of the Temple, till thou art utterly consumed from off the face of the Earth — The Horns or Powers of the Nations which thou hast deceived (with the Swords of good men) shall destroy thee, Death, Mourning and Famine shall come upon thee in one day, and thou shalt be utterly burnt with Fire. Amen, Hallelujah.
An Hymn of Praise upon
Babylon's
Fall, grounded upon,
Revel.
19. 1, 2, 3, 4.
ROuse up, my Muse, attend and hear
What Melody is in mine ear,
For
Zion's
Joy is at the door.
Great
Babel
howls, and is in pain,
Now falling is that Bloody Whore;
And never more shall rise again,
The Saints and all that dwell on high,
Sing Allelujahs constantly,
That haughty City called Great,
Which boasted of her lofty Seat,
Is on a sudden now brought under.
She prostrate in the dust does lie,
Hearken; I hear a mighty Thunder,
Which no good man doth terrify,
For
Babels
fallen; and Saints now sing,
Sweet Allelujahs to their King.
Out of the Throne, voices descend,
As if they would the Heavens rend,
With Praises unto God on High,
For he's come forth in dreadful ire,
And hath the Whore Judge'd righteously,
To be consumed in flaming Fire,
They
Hallelujahs
sing amain.
Nay hark! They double them again.
See! How her Smoak does fill the air,
Whilst Harpers sing and merry are,
And with one voice loud Praise proclaim,
To God the Lord Ornnipotent,
Ah! how they magnify his name,
With th' highest strains they can invent,
Again they
Hallelujahs
sing
To God and Christ their Glorious King.
Yet this Joy's only in One Isle,
Which
Babel
lately strove to spoil,
Scituate in the Northern Sea.
That Heaven has saved from Bloody
Rome.
Could
Ireland
too asjoyful be,
Would God in Mercy to them come,
How would it add unto our Joys,
Our
Hallelujahs,
and our Praise.
A Happy Land thou seemest to be,
And greater Glory shalt thou see.
If by Repentance thou dost fly
To God in Christ by Faith and Prayer,
And cast off all Iniquity.
For God will then remove thy fear,
And then thou shalt have cause to sing
Sweet
Allelujahs
to thy King.
Poor
Ireland
and
France
also,
E're long shall triumph as we do;
For God will quickly crush his Foes.
Their Blood like water out he will pour,
Their Flesh shall feeding be for Crows.
And the Great Whore shall be no more;
That
Allelujahs
may be sung
Throughout the Earth by old and young.
Now God Omnipotent will Reign,
Who will the Pride of Nations stain,
And make his Power and Glory known;
His Son he will set on
Zion
Hill;
His Enemies shall be overthrown,
He will the Earth with Glory fill;
In th' heights of Zion we shall sing
Sweet Allelujahs to our King.
Sighs for
Ireland.
O Lord who hast such wonders wrought
Of late as well as formerly!
And down with vengeance now hast brought
Thy Churches bloody Enemy;
Oh! look upon poor
Ireland,
And save them with thine own right hand.
Lord Bless our King; and as he's great,
Let him be likewise just and good;
His Enemies, O Lord defeat!
Who greedily thirst for his blood:
Oh! be his guard continually,
From workers of Iniquity.
Shall
England
thus triumph and sing,
Whilst
Ireland
still does bleeding lie?
Ah! this is an afflicting thing,
It wounds our Souls, and makes us cry,
To
Ireland,
Lord, send help we pray,
Ah! succor them without delay.
Unite us here, and make us one,
And let our mutual Love appear,
Let's never into fractions run,
And then our Foes we need not fear,
Whilst Protestants united be,
No dread of
Rome
or Popery.
The Sun on us begins to shine,
Lord! let it break forth more and more,
And by that mighty power of thine,
Confound our Foes as heretofore;
Arise O Lord, Let
Ireland
be,
Reliev'd with speed and saved by thee.
These days in
England
seem to us,
As pleasant as the flourishing spring,
Oh' let them still continue thus!
Prevent our Foes; Preserve our King;
Thy People, Lord, in
Ireland
Redeem with thy out-stretched hand.
When we for Darkness looked, and Night,
At Evening
•
yde we did behold
The Sun broke forth with Glorious Light,
As in the Scripture 'tis foretold.
O're
Ireland,
Lord, thy beams display,
Like to the dawning of the day.
Let not our Sun Eclipsed be,
Nor Clouds of Darknes, interpose
Between Great
Britain,
Lord, and thee.
Since thus in Mercy thou art rose:
From
Ireland
let's good Tydings here,
That thou likewise art risen there.
Let not thy Glorious Sun appear
To lighten only these dark Parts;
But let the Nations, far and near,
Thy Gospel-Light have in their hearts:
From
Ireland,
Lord, all Clouds expel,
Oh, pity there thy
Israel.
Let Light and Glory there break forth,
And Popish darkness thence be gone;
That all good Protestants on Earth
In the Truth, may be join'd in one:
On
Ireland,
Lord, Compassion take.
Their Sorrows we our own would make.
Let the
French
Tyrant, thy Great Foe,
The Scourge and Plague of Christendom,
Receive an utter Overthrow;
Ah! quickly let his downfall come;
Those vile Usurpers, Lord, abase,
And pity there, thy Children's case.
Let
France,
and
Spain,
and
Germany
Enlightned be; and let them see
The folly of Idolatry:
From
Babylon,
Lord, make them flee,
Because her Judgment now is come,
And they thereby may 'scape her doom.
Let Christendom new Christened be,
(why should they still believe a Lye?)
And not on
Names
depend; But see
The great Deceits of Popery:
Christ's
Name
no good at all will do,
Unless they have his
Nature
too.
Let thy blest Gospel grow and work
Victoriously in every place;
Let
Tartars,
and the ignorant
Turk
Enlightned be with Heavenly Grace:
Poor
Ireland,
Lord, relieve with speed,
For whom our Hearts do almost bleed.
Send forth thy Light even like the Morn,
That it over all the Earth may fly,
From
Cancer
unto
Capricorn;
That all Lands, which in darkness lie,
May see how they have gone astray,
And be reduced to the Right way.
The fullness of the Gentiles now
Bring in; and give them all a Call,
That they may unto Jesus bow,
And under his Dominion fall:
That Popish Power, which do's annoy
Poor
Ireland,
Lord, do thou destroy
The Gospel-Tydings, and good News
Of Jesus Christ the Savior,
Declare to the hard-hearted
Jews,
And their strong Unbelief over-power:
Oh let the Gospel on them shine,
For
Abraham
's sake, that Friend of thine.
The Saints be'ng many Members joined,
One Body make; the Head thou art;
Lord, let them have One Will, One Mind,
Let this One Body have One Heart:
Then shall I see a blest increase
Of
Zion
's Glory;
Israel
's Peace.
Out of all Nations under Heaven
Expel thick Darkness, Lord, away;
Let Power to thy Saints be given,
That all may thee and them obey:
Mean while, let these three Northern Lands
United be in Sacred Bands.
Let
Holland
likewise Happy be,
〈◊〉
those Great Sev'n; Preserve these Three.
FINIS.
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