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INDEPENDENT
And have we spent our bloods to gain no more
We are as wretched as we were before
When as the Lordly Prelates, ruld the Land
Making Gods Truth, to stoop to your command
O thou immortall Rector when shall we
Be as we ought, and have our conscience free
From mens Injunctions,

PRESBYTER,
“See mans nature is
“Never contented, though he be in blisse,
“He would have yet more joy, why knowst thou not,
Or hath thy shallow memory forgot,
What great immunities are purchased
Since the great, little Prelate, lost his head

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Are we not free from Papists lordly Reign
Who ruld, Charls onely called Soveraign;
Is not the throat of Inovation cut
Are not our Enemies, in pinfolds shut;
Are not those Courts, that rackt the Commons purses
“Receiving oft, their silver, with their curses
Abolisht, is not that same fatall court
Star Chamber cald, where fix Lords could extort
What they would from the Commons, now put down
And in the stead mercy and Justice shown,
Are not all envious suckers,

Independent
He, whose this
My utter enemy, I ween it is,
As the ill boding Scrilch-owl I do hate
Thy speeches, tell me art thou Consecrate,
An Elder, whom I may dechipher thus
Hodie Clericus, cras Laious:
Thee and thy tenents I abhor and hate
As errors, do all mischiefe properate
Perhaps thou art an Expectant, such there be
Who waite Election, in the Presbytery
I hold the Rule, of your Archi-synagogie
To be a cruell, Rigorous Tyrannie
Your high Sanhedrim, by which you undertake
Your Fellow Commoners, meer slaves to make
Your great Assembly is above all power
And what you please, you turn, and change each houre
So that Ide rather chuse, a slave to be
And vassaild, to the Bishops Hierchie
Then unto you subjected, pray whence rose
Your Reformation, but from Knox, and those
Seditious ones Melvill and Lisley, and
Peter Carmichael, who once did stand
In open opposition gainst all Law
In ordine ad Spiritualia.


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Presbyter
O Thou deluded, that art enemie
To God, doth not the sacred verity
Confirm, and eke command the Church should be
Guided by a Judicious Presbyterie
Thy Allegations are most false and naught,
Such as the Feind into thy mind hath brought:
Thou art a Libertine, and wouldst have none
To govern thee, but thy false heart alone
Woe be to England, hadst thou thy desire
Whose thoughts are swords, whose actions are fire
To ruin thine opposers, praised be
To the Almighties Sacred Maiestie
Our prudent Parliament, do now proceed
To settle

Independent.
What they have decreed
Theil finde when they have setled it most sure
Tis built on sand, and cannot long indure.

Presbyter.
Well go thy wayes, let Sathan and his crue
The utmost of your wicked ends persue,
God will preserve his Church, and maugre all
Will have his own will to be principall
After so long obscurity, he now
Is pleasd unto his servants light to shew,
The true light of his face, the government,
He gave to his Apostles, with intent
They and the true Church, ever should observe
Which having purchasd, grant Lord, mere swerve
There-from, but us and ours imbrace it may
Untill the last, and dreadfull Judgement day.