The Church Militant Historically Continued from the Yeare of Our Saviours Incarnation 33. untill this present, 1640: By William Vaughan |
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THE STATE OF THE BISHOPS OF ROME DURING
THE TIME OF PERSECVTION, and while they were
subject to the Emperours. |
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 | The Church Militant |  |
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THE STATE OF THE BISHOPS OF ROME DURING THE TIME OF PERSECVTION, and while they were subject to the Emperours.
It may be heere some Curious Wits expect,
That I their Lives and Deedes should recollect,
Whom Priestly Votes heve voyc'd for Roman Popes
In Peters Chaire, on whom they fixt their Hopes
To binde and loose their manifolded Crimes
Both then and now, and in ensuing Times.
But such a Taske I dare not undergoe,
Nor will I have with Fraudfull Styles to doe:
The Servant when of Servants One proclaimes
Himselfe, and yet a Monarques Power claimes.
Let them who build on Flesh and Blouds Desires,
Entangling their Beliefe with needlesse Fires
Of High Ambitious Thrones, not warranted
By Gods deare Lambe, who for our sakes here led
An Humble Life: Let them I say bow downe
Before the Gold-cross'd Shooe and Triple Growne.
But I am sure they no Record shall finde,
Nor Chronicle, that mentions in that kinde
The least Reflexe of Royall Majesty
Due to Romes Popes with Both Swords Soveraignty,
Untill the French the Lumbards overcame,
Till Charlemaine did Desiderius tame
Since Phocas Time they Nine score yeeres before,
Above all Priests the Chiefest Miter wore:
Since Constantines, who Phocas did precede
Three Hundred yeeres, a Patriarchs sway I read
They had heere in our West. But till that Time
They scarce found space to breath, much lesse to climb,
Or claime a Mace, and to be called Lord,
A Style, which Christ forbad, and Saints abhorr'd;
For till the Raigne of Constantine the Great,
Thirty they were, which grac'd Romes Pastours Seat,
And of those Thirty Bishops there were None,
But they were slaine, or did through Troubles grone.
As English Saints were in Queen Maries dayes
By Tyrants spleene distressed sundry wayes,
Imprison'd, rackt, and put to Open shame,
Depriv'd of all their Goods, and burnt in Flame:
So Christs New Church, tho with rare Dowries blest,
Neere for Three Hundred yeares was sore opprest.
Cæsars without, and Herteickes within,
Did persecute, and plunge her Members in
So many Toiles, that hardly they could meet
In Private Place, nor one another greet
With Common shewes of Neighbours Amity;
How then could they thinke on Priority?
And stand on Points of Prelates Primacie,
Without distrust of some Conspiracie?
That I their Lives and Deedes should recollect,
Whom Priestly Votes heve voyc'd for Roman Popes
In Peters Chaire, on whom they fixt their Hopes
To binde and loose their manifolded Crimes
Both then and now, and in ensuing Times.
But such a Taske I dare not undergoe,
Nor will I have with Fraudfull Styles to doe:
The Servant when of Servants One proclaimes
Himselfe, and yet a Monarques Power claimes.
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Entangling their Beliefe with needlesse Fires
Of High Ambitious Thrones, not warranted
By Gods deare Lambe, who for our sakes here led
An Humble Life: Let them I say bow downe
Before the Gold-cross'd Shooe and Triple Growne.
But I am sure they no Record shall finde,
Nor Chronicle, that mentions in that kinde
The least Reflexe of Royall Majesty
Due to Romes Popes with Both Swords Soveraignty,
Untill the French the Lumbards overcame,
Till Charlemaine did Desiderius tame
Since Phocas Time they Nine score yeeres before,
Above all Priests the Chiefest Miter wore:
Since Constantines, who Phocas did precede
Three Hundred yeeres, a Patriarchs sway I read
They had heere in our West. But till that Time
They scarce found space to breath, much lesse to climb,
Or claime a Mace, and to be called Lord,
A Style, which Christ forbad, and Saints abhorr'd;
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Thirty they were, which grac'd Romes Pastours Seat,
And of those Thirty Bishops there were None,
But they were slaine, or did through Troubles grone.
As English Saints were in Queen Maries dayes
By Tyrants spleene distressed sundry wayes,
Imprison'd, rackt, and put to Open shame,
Depriv'd of all their Goods, and burnt in Flame:
So Christs New Church, tho with rare Dowries blest,
Neere for Three Hundred yeares was sore opprest.
Cæsars without, and Herteickes within,
Did persecute, and plunge her Members in
So many Toiles, that hardly they could meet
In Private Place, nor one another greet
With Common shewes of Neighbours Amity;
How then could they thinke on Priority?
And stand on Points of Prelates Primacie,
Without distrust of some Conspiracie?
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The Truth is this: who were styl'd Bishops then,
They fish'd not for fraile Wealth, but Soules of Men
Not to enrich themselves with Private store,
But like Saint Paul, the Crosse they thought on more
From Christian Cæsars they got Liberties,
But not so great to claime Regalities,
About the Yeare Sixe Hundred sixty sixe,
We finde that Rome began to play more Tricks
Then she durst act within the Ages past,
As Paul and John fore-told her Breach at last)
And never left to lift her Lofty Crest,
Till she Gods Word had darkned in the West,
And dar'd upon the Cæsars State to prey,
The maine great Let to her Prodigious Sway.
She never ceas'd to stirre up raging Fires,
Till she at Trent concluded her Desires,
Repugnant to the Vow, which she profest
At her First Rise, Sixe Hundred yeares at least,
At such wild Fits I onely glance, not carpe;
This Taske I leave for an iambicks Warpe.
They fish'd not for fraile Wealth, but Soules of Men
Not to enrich themselves with Private store,
But like Saint Paul, the Crosse they thought on more
From Christian Cæsars they got Liberties,
But not so great to claime Regalities,
About the Yeare Sixe Hundred sixty sixe,
We finde that Rome began to play more Tricks
Then she durst act within the Ages past,
As Paul and John fore-told her Breach at last)
And never left to lift her Lofty Crest,
Till she Gods Word had darkned in the West,
And dar'd upon the Cæsars State to prey,
The maine great Let to her Prodigious Sway.
She never ceas'd to stirre up raging Fires,
Till she at Trent concluded her Desires,
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At her First Rise, Sixe Hundred yeares at least,
At such wild Fits I onely glance, not carpe;
This Taske I leave for an iambicks Warpe.
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