 | Sion in distress |  |
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These Marks are so notorious that we can
Say of the Romish Pope, He is the Man:
For these Characteristicks truly are
To him (and only him) peculiar.
This raging Monster is that Beast of Prey:
Shall we arise to take his Strength away?
That hath so long time tyrannized thus
(With Hellish Fury) over thee and us?
Self-preservation is, by every creature
Esteem'd a Sacred Principle in Nature.
Each Free-born mind, 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 controul or fear?
Sion.
You are to wait for Gods great Dispensations,
At whose disposal is the fate of Nations;
His time is best, and in due Season he
Will bring this Beast to his Catastrophe.
He sits in Heaven, and 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 Soveraign Rule must yield;
He shall the Crown and Royal Scepter wield:
Nations shall serve him; Kings that have abhor'd
His Name, shall pay him Homage, as their Lord.
To JESUS all shall bow, he shall be King,
And to poor Sion shall Redemption bring.
Till this Beasts month, and latest hour be spent,
No Humane Weapon can his Rage prevent.
To suffer Persecution I'm appointed,
Till Instruments are chosen and anointed
For my Deliverance; your work's to pray,
And be prepared for that blessed day;
When Babel falls, and Sion is restor'd
To height of favour, with her Blessed Lord.
The day approaches, and if you would win
Renown by Fighting, then encounter Sin;
That home-bred Foe, which in your Bosome lurks,
And like the Venome of an Aspick works
Through all your Vitals; 'tis the Capital
And grandest foe, that would betray you all;
It corresponds with those that do expose
To torments, all that with the Bridegroom close;
Till this is conquer'd, I shall not arise,
Nor be deliver'd from mine enemies.
This Traytor makes my very heart to faint,
And does occasion most of my Complaint;
For by's conspiring with the Beast and Devil,
I am surrounded with the present evil.
At whose disposal is the fate of Nations;
His time is best, and in due Season he
Will bring this Beast to his Catastrophe.
He sits in Heaven, and 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 Soveraign Rule must yield;
He shall the Crown and Royal Scepter wield:
Nations shall serve him; Kings that have abhor'd
His Name, shall pay him Homage, as their Lord.
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And to poor Sion shall Redemption bring.
Till this Beasts month, and latest hour be spent,
No Humane Weapon can his Rage prevent.
To suffer Persecution I'm appointed,
Till Instruments are chosen and anointed
For my Deliverance; your work's to pray,
And be prepared for that blessed day;
When Babel falls, and Sion is restor'd
To height of favour, with her Blessed Lord.
The day approaches, and if you would win
Renown by Fighting, then encounter Sin;
That home-bred Foe, which in your Bosome lurks,
And like the Venome of an Aspick works
Through all your Vitals; 'tis the Capital
And grandest foe, that would betray you all;
It corresponds with those that do expose
To torments, all that with the Bridegroom close;
Till this is conquer'd, I shall not arise,
Nor be deliver'd from mine enemies.
This Traytor makes my very heart to faint,
And does occasion most of my Complaint;
For by's conspiring with the Beast and Devil,
I am surrounded with the present evil.
Besides these Foes of my forlorn Estate,
There is another strong Confederate,
The Proud, Imperious and Insulting Whore,
Of whom I made a sad Complaint before;
She with lascivious Looks and Wanton Eyes
Prompts on to Lust and all Debaucheries;
By her salacious and bewitching Charms
She does intice Great Men into her Arms,
Corrupting Princes by her Incantations,
Destroys the brave Nobility of Nations.
There is another strong Confederate,
The Proud, Imperious and Insulting Whore,
Of whom I made a sad Complaint before;
She with lascivious Looks and Wanton Eyes
Prompts on to Lust and all Debaucheries;
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She does intice Great Men into her Arms,
Corrupting Princes by her Incantations,
Destroys the brave Nobility of Nations.
Great God assist me, e're 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 sawcy becks.
Oh! they that should My Nursing-Fathers be,
Are Executioners of Cruelty,
By this Whores influence, the Civil Power
Is made a dreadful Engine to devour
The Saints of God, and kick at the Creator;
But let them know that Sovereign Arbitrator
Of all their Destinies, is Great and Just,
And can, at pleasure, tumble them to Dust.
What pity is't that Dukes and Noble Peers,
With other Heroes, should for many years
Thus truckle to that Proud, Usurping Whore,
And for her sake inslave themselves? nay more,
Exhaust their Treasure, and debase their Name,
And bring themselves to such reproach and shame,
By thus ingaging in her Hellish Plots,
Which fastens on them Everlasting Blots.
That shameless Strumpet, whose accursed Wiles
Trappans the Conscience, and the Soul beguiles,
When she involves them in the deepest guilt,
She does pretend to wash away the filth,
By impious Pardons! Yea, to such an height
Does she bewitch Men, that the very sight
Of Tyburn, cannot move them to confess,
Their load of guilt and horrid Wickedness;
It is her Art, when they are parting hence,
To steel their Fronts with shameless impudence.
When they are drawn to a deserved Death,
With lyes She makes them to resign their breath.
She makes them drunk till they forget their fears,
Her Agents buzzing in their doubting Ears;
Who (like ill Angels) round about them hover,
For fear they should her Rogueries discover.
When some are stretcht upon the fatal Block,
And Justice ready to discharge the stroak;
Such is the strength of her Inebriation,
That they (oh horrible!) on their Salvation.
Protest they'r innocent! when all the while
No Treason ever did appear more vile,
Then that for which Impartial Justice hath
Judg'd them (as Traytors, to deserved Death.
Rome (by their frantick Resolutions) would
Out-face the Sun, and baffle) if She could)
The clearest Proofs, and solid'st Evidence
Produc'd by Heav'ns 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 Dye.
She, to encourage Treasons, does prefer
Those Traytor-Martyrs in her Calender.
That I the State of Monarchs may bewail,
Who to her Yoke yield their Illustrious Necks,
And move (like Vassals) at her sawcy becks.
Oh! they that should My Nursing-Fathers be,
Are Executioners of Cruelty,
By this Whores influence, the Civil Power
Is made a dreadful Engine to devour
The Saints of God, and kick at the Creator;
But let them know that Sovereign Arbitrator
Of all their Destinies, is Great and Just,
And can, at pleasure, tumble them to Dust.
What pity is't that Dukes and Noble Peers,
With other Heroes, should for many years
Thus truckle to that Proud, Usurping Whore,
And for her sake inslave themselves? nay more,
Exhaust their Treasure, and debase their Name,
And bring themselves to such reproach and shame,
By thus ingaging in her Hellish Plots,
Which fastens on them Everlasting Blots.
That shameless Strumpet, whose accursed Wiles
Trappans the Conscience, and the Soul beguiles,
When she involves them in the deepest guilt,
She does pretend to wash away the filth,
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Does she bewitch Men, that the very sight
Of Tyburn, cannot move them to confess,
Their load of guilt and horrid Wickedness;
It is her Art, when they are parting hence,
To steel their Fronts with shameless impudence.
When they are drawn to a deserved Death,
With lyes She makes them to resign their breath.
She makes them drunk till they forget their fears,
Her Agents buzzing in their doubting Ears;
Who (like ill Angels) round about them hover,
For fear they should her Rogueries discover.
When some are stretcht upon the fatal Block,
And Justice ready to discharge the stroak;
Such is the strength of her Inebriation,
That they (oh horrible!) on their Salvation.
Protest they'r innocent! when all the while
No Treason ever did appear more vile,
Then that for which Impartial Justice hath
Judg'd them (as Traytors, to deserved Death.
Rome (by their frantick Resolutions) would
Out-face the Sun, and baffle) if She could)
The clearest Proofs, and solid'st Evidence
Produc'd by Heav'ns 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 Dye.
She, to encourage Treasons, does prefer
Those Traytor-Martyrs in her Calender.
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This Whore and Beast in Interest are so join'd,
That many puzzl'd are, which way to find,
whereiny the differ, pray tell us therefore,
How is the Beast, distinguished from the Whore.
SION.
The Pope's the Beast, usurping over all,
A Power Supream and Magisttraticall;
This Scarlet Beast does in the strictest sence,
Lay claim to Secular Preheminence.
The Roman Empire lost the Ruling Seat,
The Pope usurpt it, and from thence grew great,
All Kings that he could by his craft allure,
Receive their Power; and Investiture,
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Or Romish Hierarchy, that take her Seat
Upon the back of this Ten horned Steed,
(Which gores my side, and makes my Children bleed.)
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Shall we (indanger'd by her Plots) arise
To curb this Whore, that our great God defies?
Why should her Treasons any more annoy
Thy precious Saints and Nations thus destroy,
Lets make her Drink in that invenom'd Cup
She fills for us shall she not swill it up;
Will none fall on, provok't by flaming ire,
To Eat her Flesh, and burn her in the fire?
SION.
VVho instrumental in that work shall be;
Read well the Sacred Scriptures, you may see
And since the matter you do understand,
It brings me comfort on the other hand:
As 'twas fore-told in Sacred Scripture story
You are inlightnen'd with the Angels glory;
As for my Children who before did live,
Light from this Angel they could not receive.
My Children brought forth in the latter days,
Shall do great matters to Jehovah's praise.
I see some good men do desire to know
The time when they this Whore shall overthrow,
I cannot blame them for this very thing,
To the whole World it will much glory bring.
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And Men instead of Husks shall feed on Bread;
God's Worship shall its freedom then enjoy,
Rome's Locust then shall you no more annoy.
There shall be then a wonderful increase
Of Sion's glory and of Israel's peace;
Then shall my Children in sweet consort sing
Anthems of joy to the Eternal King.
No names then of distinction more shall be,
But speak one Language all they shall agree
In peace and Oneness and blest Harmony.
But to reply to what you have requir'd,
At present you must keep your selves retir'd
Make no attempts untill the Lord on high,
Does give you strength this Babel to defie.
You now do seem to lie as persons dead,
As being unable to erect your head:
But then you shall appear to be alive,
The Spirit of the Lord shall you revive:
God hath (I know) set down the time exact,
When hee'l begin this strange and dreadful Act,
To the confusion of your Enemies.
When God shall call his Witnesses to rise;
Then from the Heavens, they shall hear a voice,
Which shall make all their Spirits to rejoyce.
Then shall they have so evident a call,
That they straight way shall on this Strumpet fall.
With patience therefore wait upon the Lord,
Until his saving strength he doth afford.
To him you are to make your supplication,
For from him only is my expectation.
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And send strong crys up to his gracious Throne:
Give him no rest till, (in those glorious days.)
Of all the Earth, I'm made the only praise.
And I'll lift up my voice to God on High,
And make my moan to him, and thus will cry.
SIONS Prayer.
O Lord of Hosts, consider my Estate,
Let me remain no longer desolate.
Have I not been most precious in thy sight?
O do not therefore my Petition slight;
O let thy Bowels, to thy Children move,
In tender token of Parental love.
Shall Sion totter? And the Beast grow steady
In his proud Seat? Hast thou not try'd already?
What some advantage, or what Gospel good,
Is to be hop'd for, from the wicked Brood?
Canst thou expect they'l serve thee better Now?
Are they more like to bless the World below,
Then thy Poor Sion? If their measures be
Repleted brimful of Iniquity,
Then by just forfeiture, their right is gon,
To Earthly Power, and Dominion.
Will these thy saving Gospel Truths preserve?
Or in pure Worship at thine Altars serve?
Will these protect the Innocent and good,
And not provoke thee with their crying blood?
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Extirpate Vice? Make Righteousness to flow
Like mighty streams? Are they in Covenant
with Thee? Or wert thou ever pleased to grant
Them any Promises that they should wear
The Sacred badges of thy Name? And bear
The Soveraign Rule? Will Fathers, and young men,
Within thy Church, be priz'd and honor'd then?
Shall they not rather, by their Barb'rous hands,
Be Butcher'd, for obeying thy Commands?
Will not thy Childrens Souls in danger be
Of swift Damnation, by Rome's blasphemie?
If Laud on Earth and Praises will be given,
If Hallalujahs will be sung in Heaven,
To thy great Name, for raising Babylon,
And bringing Sion to Destruction:
If then the Door of Grace, be open'd more,
For Mens Salvation, then it was before.
If Sinners access unto the blessed Jesus,
Be made more free; if cure of Soul Diseases
Be then more easie, then let Sion fall.
And Rome Usurp Dominion over all.
But if in sight of thine all-seeing Eye,
Their Monstrous Crimes are of so black a Dye:
If from their very Springing, they 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 black sins, of gross Idolatry,
Pride, horrid Murthers, and Adultry,
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If thy oppression makes thy Churches groan;
If they will burn thy Scriptures and suppress
All Books that treat of Gospel Holiness?
If guiltless Souls of every Sex and Age,
Will be made Sacrifices to their Rage;
If they are Foes, without thy Covenants,
If they will trample on thy precious Saints;
If they (because thou didst not hear and save
Thy praying Sion, from a sinking Grave)
Deride thy Glory, and blaspheme thy Name,
And put thy Faithful ones to open shame.
Then hear O Lord, thou see'st my power is gone,
In thee I trust, besides thee there is none,
That can thy Sion, from her Foes deliver,
O draw some flaming Arrows from thy Quiver
To quel the pride of this oppressing Crew,
Thy mighty Arm alone can them subdue.
On Thee I fix an absolute Reliance,
Do Thou but help, I'le bid them all defiance.
Hear and consider, for thy Mercy sake,
On gasping Sion some compassion take.
I have been ransom'd with the precious Blood
Of thy dear Son, and fill'd with Heavenly Food.
O Lord I pray, thy Churches sins 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.
Thou canst the Prostrate raise, and cure his wound
For nothing difficult for Thee is found.
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Revive my hope, and chace away my fear.
In Achors Valley open thou a Door,
And make me sweetly sing as heretofore;
I pray Thee break the Bonds of my distress,
And lead me from this dolesome Wilderness.
O let me shine like Sols illustrate light,
And be's an Army terrible in fight.
Pull off that Vail that does thy Sion cover,
Those clouds, O scatter that I may discover
What thou doest mean by this thy dispensation,
And what my work is in this Generation.
Its time for Thee to plead thy Peoples cause,
When wicked men make void thy righteous Laws.
Thou canst destroy them with their brimful Cup,
And lofty Cedars, by the roots pull up;
But Lord remember for to spare thy Vine,
That spreading Plant which thou hast chosen 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:
From thence I pray deliver it once more,
Let thine hand plant it, give it steadfast root,
That all the Land may Feast upon its Fruit;
O let its Cordial Juice the Nation fill,
And let its boughs o'reshadow ev'ry Hill;
From Sea to Sea do thou her branches send,
And her, from all her Enemies defend;
Make up her Hedge, her Fence, be thou a Wall,
To keep her from the violence of all
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that would destroy it, and its fruit devour.
Lord from on high thy lovely Vine behold,
thin own Plantation, valued more then Gold;
Canst thou deny thy helping hand the while
Wild Beasts thy Vineyard ravage thus and spoil,
I am Chrst's Spouse, his undefiled One,
Canst thou permit me to be trod upon;
'Tis by thy Grace I am Intitled so,
Great God relieve me, and divert my wo,
I am surrounded on all sides with pain,
O let me see thy lovely smiles again.
Thou hast withdrawn the beamings of thy grace,
And wrapt in clouds the splendor of thy Face;
O this has caus'd such anxious grief and smart,
As tears my Soul, and rends my very heart
To tears of blood, whilst thou the glorious Sun
Of light art hid: O whether shall I run,
For beams of comfort in this dolesome hour?
Whilst I lye delu 'd in this Brinish shower
More would she speak, but her great passion ties
Her mournful tongue: the Flood-gates of her eyes
In chrystal streams do represent an anguish,
That makes her vital operations languish.
Sunk in despairing sounds, she scarce appears
to breath or live, but by her sights and tears,
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Mourn, mourn O Heav'ns; and thou, O Earth bewail
And weep ye Saints untill your spirits fail,
For she that is the glory of the Earth,
Of the most Noble and Illustrious Birth,
Lyes sadly weltring in a deep despair,
Her grievous sorrows, can no tongue Declare,
O that our Brethren would, but hasten hither
That in Gods fear we may confer together
You must needs grieve, when her complaints you hear
Do not your hearts dissolve into a tear?
Do not your Eyes like to 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?
Are you not in the depth of bitterness,
Because of Sion and her sore distress?
How can your hearts delight in things below?
How can you sleep in peace as others do?
How can we comfort have, or Pleasure find?
Or how can we the Worlds concernments mind?
How can we eat or drink with hearts content,
And not with grief poor Sions state lament?
How can we bear our Mothers doleful cries,
She sighs, she sobs, she languishes, she dies,
In dreadful Agonies, in bitter pain,
How can we brook her Enemies disdain?
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And thrown away like to a broken Pot.
She is depis'd and trod upon like Dung,
The Drunkard on her makes his dayly Song:
But Christ will turn and will expostulate
The Case with Sion, touching her Estate.
Why art thou sometimes up, then down again?
Sometimes at ease, sometimes in bitter pain?
They'r doubtless throw's, chear up and do not fear
For thy deliverance is very near.
Those lab'ring pangs shall speedily be o're,
Fear not, thou shalt not dye, one, or two more
Shall bring that Child into the World, which thou
Hast trave'ld with in bitter pangs till now.
Address thy self to God, for surely he
From these thy Tortures will deliver thee,
'Tis he a lone that brings unto the Birth,
And do's give strength and vigour to bring forth;
Then stay thy self upon this blessed Lord,
His gracious help he will to the afford,
Upon his Promises do thou depend,
And thou shalt see deliv'rance in the end.
These words of comfort like a Cordial wrought
And to her sences, mourning Sion brought,
With languish'd looks, she casts a weeping Eye
Upon her Children, and Renues her crie.
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I am affraid my God hath me forsook,
My sighs he minds not, scarce bestows a look.
His former pitty, he hath quite forgot,
His Anger's kindled & his wrath is hot;
When that burns sore, how can I choose but mourn?
How am I spoil'd, how am I rent and torn?
I'm like a Ship with raging Tempest tost
Midst Rocks and Sands, just ready to be lost:
Where ev'ry Bellow does present a grave,
And Death in Triumph rides on ev'ry wave.
Ah! But I am, engraven on his hand,
And in his sight for evermore shall stand.
Awake, O Arm of God, and do not stay,
My sorrows are so great, O say not nay,
Hear me, dear Jesus, unto thee I crie,
Unless thou save me, I must surely die,
CHRIST.
In glorious Regions of approachless light
Where Joys unmixt with perfect love unite;
There do I sit, there do I see and hear
What Kings and Potentates consulting are,
Resounding in mine Ears continually,
I hear a bitter, and complaining cry.
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And therefore 'tis the voice of one I love,
She whom I purchased with my dearest blood,
Seems drencht in tears and drowned in a flood;
Some grievous sorrow, or great tribulation,
Extorts from her this doleful lamentation,
Enough to pierce my tender heart again.
And make the Temple rend once more in twain.
Alas poor Sion! thy sad voice I hear,
I'le come and help thee, for I know thy fear,
And what occasions these thy lanquid Moans,
I know thy sorrow, and I hear thy Groans.
'Tis I can still the blust'ring Winds and Seas,
And in thy greatest Anguish give thee ease.
'Tis I can wound, and cure; I build, I break,
I kill, I make alive; I give and take.
And can (if I think fit) make Nations shake,
And Kingdoms totter, reeling to and fro:
I for thy sake, strange things will quickly do.
In thy affliction, great distress and pain,
Of which thou dost, so grievously complain,
I am afflicted: What they do to thee,
Of hurt or wrong, I take as done to me;
I tender thee as th'Apple of mine Eye,
Fear not therefore, thy proudest Enemy.
Although with Foes thou art environ'd now,
All power and wisdom is mine; and I know how
To strengthen thee, and make them all to bow.
I will arise and shew my Soveraignty;
Ile make them to the Rocks and Mountains fly;
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I will pursue them, & they shall not find
A hiding place my vengeance to avoid,
Till by my fury they be all destroy'd.
I will bring down each high and lofty head,
Their mighty ones like Mortar I will tread.
Thy cause Ile plead, though silent I have stood,
Ile be reveng'd for all the Righteous blood,
That has run down like to a Mighty flood.
And therefore now; Ile make no long delay,
What's due to Justice, they shall surely pay;
Besides the bloody wrongs thou dost repeat
The crying Martyrs loudly do intreat
Me to avenge their blood, therefore I will
Come down in fury, and those Monsters kill;
Then, thou before me very strong shalt wax,
For Ile make thee my dreadful Battle-Ax.
Thy Horn shall Iron be, & thy Hoof Brass,
With which thou shalt tread down the Serpents race.
Thy Sons that scatter'd o're the Earth throughout,
I will soon gather with a mighty shout.
The Mighty they shall overcome with Slings,
And bind in Fetters persecuting Kings.
Ill lay thy Stones with Colours fair and sure,
Thy strong Foundation shall be Saphyrs pure:
Although I seem'd to have forsaken thee,
Yet, from all bondage I will set thee free,
Though I have thee afflicted heretofore,
Ile turn my hand upon the bloody VVhore;
Because thou dost my holy Name profess,
Ill break in peices them that thee oppress:
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I will come down and all thy Griefs remove.
All Weapons form'd against my Sion, shall
Unprosp'rous prove, for I will break them all.
I'll teach thy Children, give thee lasting Peace,
Converted Gentiles shall the Church increase.
Though wicked Men with words do thee deride,
Thy Borders I'll enlarge on every side.
Each hungry Soul with plenty I will feed,
The Earth I will divide among thy Seed.
I've promis'd that they shall the world possess,
And will perform it now in Righteousness.
I will descend unto my Holy Hill,
The Earth with knowledge I will quickly fill.
I will suppress all Luxury and Riot,
The Heathen in my presence shall be quiet.
Above all Kings I shall exalted be,
And Rule the Earth with Soveraign Majesty.
When all the Kingdoms in the World are mine,
Then thou in Beauty like a Queen shalt shine;
And with thy Children in sweet Consort sing,
Triumphant Hallelujahs to your King.
SION.
O matchless Grace, and Love beyond degree!
Now I am certain there is none like Thee,
In Heav'n or Earth, were there ten thousand more
For thou hast found a Salve for every Sore.
Transported by thy love, with joy I cry,
My Ravisht Spirit must exalt the high
And mighty Lord, by whose unbounded grace,
My hearts enlarg'd to run the blessed Race;
Thou shalt conduct me to thy living Springs:
From thence I'll mount up, as with Eagles Wings,
Unto the Heavenly Mount of Faith's desire,
Where I thy Grace and Glory will admire;
Then I'll descend from those Abodes above,
To be embraced in the Arms of Love.
I'll hold thee fast, and never let thee go,
For by thy loss, O what a Depth of Wo
Did I sustain! In what a dreadful Case
Was I, when thou didst hide thy glorious face!
Thee having, though nought else, what have I not?
Without thee, though all else, what have I got?
Lord having all things, and not thee, what have I?
Let me enjoy but thee, what further crave I?
Without thee nothing is of worth to me;
All things are vile—when once compar'd to thee.
To be thy Portion, Lord, thou didst me chuse,
And thou my Portion art: I'll ne're refuse
So rich a Grace: thou art my Heritage,
Thou art a God of Love from Age to Age,
And therefore evermore I'll dwell with thee,
For thou alone, my Hiding-place shalt be.
In time of trouble and of fury great,
I will unto thy Holy Name retreat;
Which is a sure defence to all that fly
With care and speed from their iniquity.
When I was down, thou lift'st me up on high,
And I thy Name will therefore magnify.
O Lord, with Patience I will undergo
Their indignation, for I well do know
I have provok't thy great and glorious Name,
Which is the cause that I do suffer shame:
Although at present I am low and mean,
Poor and despis'd, and so long time have been;
Thou canst all Sorrows to thy Sion bless,
I therefore, in thy Pleasure acquiesce;
I'll wait upon thee, till thou dost arise
To break in pieces all mine Enemies:
My precious Cause then I do leave with thee,
Which thou, O Lord, wilt surely plead for me;
Thy Voice is to my ravisht Soul so sweet,
That I'm reviv'd, and set upon my feet:
I'll speak thy Praise in Songs, because I see
That Glory near, which thou hast promis'd me.
Now I am certain there is none like Thee,
In Heav'n or Earth, were there ten thousand more
For thou hast found a Salve for every Sore.
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My Ravisht Spirit must exalt the high
And mighty Lord, by whose unbounded grace,
My hearts enlarg'd to run the blessed Race;
Thou shalt conduct me to thy living Springs:
From thence I'll mount up, as with Eagles Wings,
Unto the Heavenly Mount of Faith's desire,
Where I thy Grace and Glory will admire;
Then I'll descend from those Abodes above,
To be embraced in the Arms of Love.
I'll hold thee fast, and never let thee go,
For by thy loss, O what a Depth of Wo
Did I sustain! In what a dreadful Case
Was I, when thou didst hide thy glorious face!
Thee having, though nought else, what have I not?
Without thee, though all else, what have I got?
Lord having all things, and not thee, what have I?
Let me enjoy but thee, what further crave I?
Without thee nothing is of worth to me;
All things are vile—when once compar'd to thee.
To be thy Portion, Lord, thou didst me chuse,
And thou my Portion art: I'll ne're refuse
So rich a Grace: thou art my Heritage,
Thou art a God of Love from Age to Age,
And therefore evermore I'll dwell with thee,
For thou alone, my Hiding-place shalt be.
In time of trouble and of fury great,
I will unto thy Holy Name retreat;
Which is a sure defence to all that fly
With care and speed from their iniquity.
82
And I thy Name will therefore magnify.
O Lord, with Patience I will undergo
Their indignation, for I well do know
I have provok't thy great and glorious Name,
Which is the cause that I do suffer shame:
Although at present I am low and mean,
Poor and despis'd, and so long time have been;
Thou canst all Sorrows to thy Sion bless,
I therefore, in thy Pleasure acquiesce;
I'll wait upon thee, till thou dost arise
To break in pieces all mine Enemies:
My precious Cause then I do leave with thee,
Which thou, O Lord, wilt surely plead for me;
Thy Voice is to my ravisht Soul so sweet,
That I'm reviv'd, and set upon my feet:
I'll speak thy Praise in Songs, because I see
That Glory near, which thou hast promis'd me.
And now thou bloudy Whore, that art my Foe,
My time's at hand, which thou shalt quickly know.
My God has not forsaken me, for now
He will advance me, and make thee to bow:
Then shalt thou hide (for shame) thy filthy head,
Whilst I, in Triumph, shall upon thee tread;
Because so long, thou hast upon me trod,
And in Contempt hast said, Where is thy God?
He will therefore in Right retaliate,
And bring just Vengeance on thy cursed Pate.
My time's at hand, which thou shalt quickly know.
My God has not forsaken me, for now
He will advance me, and make thee to bow:
Then shalt thou hide (for shame) thy filthy head,
Whilst I, in Triumph, shall upon thee tread;
Because so long, thou hast upon me trod,
And in Contempt hast said, Where is thy God?
He will therefore in Right retaliate,
And bring just Vengeance on thy cursed Pate.
83
Poor Sion! thou art much mistaken;
I'm mounted high, thou art forsaken:
Sure thou art Frantick, when thou dost
Make such a vain and groundless boast:
The final Conquest must be mine,
And swift Destruction must be thine;
For all my Wounds I've got a Cure,
From all your Darts I am secure.
I am arriv'd at height of Bliss,
My Glory in its Zenith is.
I am a Queen, and shall remain
Supream on Earth, I only reign
In glitt'ring Grandeur over all.
Great Monarchs Me their Mistriss call:
How can I fall, when such a Prop
Supports, as my Lord God the POPE?
All Men on Earth, His Vassals are,
Who sits in Peter's Holy Chair;
The Empire of the World he hath,
He keeps the Keys of Hell and Death.
Dost think he fears the little tricks
Of thy small brood of Hereticks?
He can make use (when he doth please)
Of Peter's Sword, as well as Keys.
His Canons roar, as loud as Guns,
To crush thy feeble, Pigmy-Sons.
84
Hee'll make all Christendom to Arm
Themselves in my defence, and work
Thine Overthrow; didst thou not lurk
Some Hundred Years, that none could see,
Or know, what was become of thee?
He that could rend thy force asunder,
Has still the Strength to keep thee under:
He will thee in Subjection keep,
So that thou shalt not dare to peep.
Am I not armed with the Power
Of all the Earth? I can devour
Your Int'rest at a single Mess,
I have fit Cooks such Meals to dress;
Th'Imperial and the Regal Sword
Are brandish'd when I give the word:
Great Princes, Dukes and Nobles will
With all their force My Mind fulfil;
My Gentry who brave Heroes are,
Resolved be, no Pains to spare;
Their Very Lives they'll freely spend
To bring my Purpose to an end;
My Brisk Mounsieurs, My Spanish Dons,
Will over-match thy silly Sons:
My Rogues in Grain, I ready have,
Obedient like a Turky-slave:
If bid to thrust their bloudy Knives
In throats of Fathers, Children, Wives,
In any's out their own they'll do't,
And lay them sprawling at my Foot.
85
Will wring their Heads as Chickens Neck;
Try'd Villains! that will never start
From Mothers Womb to tear the heart
Of Unborn-Infants; they'll deflour,
Then rip her up in half an hour:
Faint Rogues will melt with qualms of fears
At Fathers Groans, or Mothers Tears;
But mine are void of any Sense,
Not plagu'd with bawling Conscience.
To some I give no constant pay,
Yet they can hunt and live by Prey.
Your Infants that (like Carps) are stew'd
In their own bloud, their Chops have chew'd.
The Fathers Cawls shall make a light
For those Sweet Banquets of the Night.
What e're my greedy Stomack craves,
But Nod, 'tis done, by ready Slaves:
They know no scruples nor dispute,
But act just like a Turkish Mute.
Besides all these, I could describe
Vast Musters of my Sacred Tribe:
My Clergy makes a num'rous Host,
That wait in swarms in every Coast.
Yea, ev'n in all Rebellious Regions,
I have in secret Armed Legions:
A Great Grandee my Ensign carrys,
The Jesuits are my Janisaries.
Thou see'st what Troops do guard my Chair,
What canst thou do then but Despair?
86
Whilst thou'rt forsaken by thy God.
Hee's doubtless pleas'd with my behaviour,
For I alone have got his Favour.
Th'Apocalyptick Prophecy
You falsely do to me apply;
For I from Sin am washed clean;
Thou art the Whore, he there does mean:
I am the Church, and therefore I,
Thy Threats, Thy GOD, and Thee, Defie.
Sion.
Leave off, leave off, thou Bloudy minded Whore:
Imagine not that thou shalt Evermore
Thus Domineer in Pomp and sawcy Pride,
For God e're long, thy Rulers will divide.
Those Mighty Ones, in whom is all thy Trust,
Long shall not hold, but into peices must
Be surely broken: thou shalt quickly see
The swift beginning of thy Misery.
Those that did love thee most, will hate thee so,
That they will seek thy utter Overthrow;
As was their love, their hatred then will be,
And to destroy thee they will all agree.
Thou hast inslav'd them to thy bruitish Lust,
Whilst they (like simple Fools) in no wise durst
Offend or cross thy base and bloudy mind;
That they have been bewitcht, they then will find,
By thine alluring Voice, and lustful Eye,
To joyn with thee in black iniquity.
Thy Flatterys shall then no more deceive;
Nor thy base Whoredoms Thousands more bereave
Of inward peace, and outward riches, so
As they have been, to their eternal Wo:
Then shall they see thy Villanous Intent,
In setting them against the Innocent.
To Glut thy Base Adulterous Desire,
Their sinful hearts were in a flaming Fire,
And through the Instigation of the Devil,
Became partakers of this Monstrous Evil.
Imagine not that thou shalt Evermore
Thus Domineer in Pomp and sawcy Pride,
For God e're long, thy Rulers will divide.
Those Mighty Ones, in whom is all thy Trust,
Long shall not hold, but into peices must
Be surely broken: thou shalt quickly see
The swift beginning of thy Misery.
Those that did love thee most, will hate thee so,
That they will seek thy utter Overthrow;
As was their love, their hatred then will be,
And to destroy thee they will all agree.
Thou hast inslav'd them to thy bruitish Lust,
Whilst they (like simple Fools) in no wise durst
Offend or cross thy base and bloudy mind;
That they have been bewitcht, they then will find,
87
To joyn with thee in black iniquity.
Thy Flatterys shall then no more deceive;
Nor thy base Whoredoms Thousands more bereave
Of inward peace, and outward riches, so
As they have been, to their eternal Wo:
Then shall they see thy Villanous Intent,
In setting them against the Innocent.
To Glut thy Base Adulterous Desire,
Their sinful hearts were in a flaming Fire,
And through the Instigation of the Devil,
Became partakers of this Monstrous Evil.
But, what approaches? Hark! methinks I hear
Some Dreadful Noise! see how the Mountains tear
And Mighty Hills do into peices fly;
Whilst Lightning flashes through the Angry Sky;
The Stars and Planets in Confusion hurl'd,
Have banisht Natures Order from the World.
See how the Melting Orbs of Heaven sweat,
Like Parchment Parcht, and shrivel'd up with heat,
Loud Thunder-Cracks through the Enraged Air,
With frightful Aspects Meteors do appear,
To usher in the Day of Heav'ns dread Ire
On those, who do against the Saints conspire.
Gods (long incensed) Majesty is come
To judge the Whore, and pass her final Doom.
Of Treason she is under an Attainder,
For which Impartial Justice will arraign her.
She's seiz'd upon, and in the Jaylors hands,
Who only waits for Justices Commands.
Jehovah bids, that Babylon the great
Be forthwith brought before his Judgement-Seat
Some Dreadful Noise! see how the Mountains tear
And Mighty Hills do into peices fly;
Whilst Lightning flashes through the Angry Sky;
The Stars and Planets in Confusion hurl'd,
Have banisht Natures Order from the World.
See how the Melting Orbs of Heaven sweat,
Like Parchment Parcht, and shrivel'd up with heat,
Loud Thunder-Cracks through the Enraged Air,
With frightful Aspects Meteors do appear,
To usher in the Day of Heav'ns dread Ire
On those, who do against the Saints conspire.
Gods (long incensed) Majesty is come
To judge the Whore, and pass her final Doom.
Of Treason she is under an Attainder,
For which Impartial Justice will arraign her.
She's seiz'd upon, and in the Jaylors hands,
Who only waits for Justices Commands.
88
Be forthwith brought before his Judgement-Seat
Justice.
Most Sovereign Lord, who is it dares gainsay
What thou command'st? I must and will obey:
Lo, here I bring the Scarlet Strumpet forth
Before thee who createdst Heav'n and Earth:
Thy Judgment-Seat she seems to slight and scorn,
Says she's as guiltless as the Child unborn.
Jehovah.
Her Crimes lay open, and her facts declare,
Turn up her Skirts and let her faults appear:
Let th'Universe by her Indictment see
The cause of my most just Severity.
Justice.
Dread Sov'reign of the World! I will proceed,
And will her black Indictment loudly read.
Come forth, Great Whore! and hear your dismal charge,
Which shall by proofs be evidenc'd at large.
By th'Name of BABYLON thou'rt hither cited,
And by the Name of Whore, thou stand'st Indicted.
89
To Satans Machinations didst adhere;
With him, to plot against thy Sov'reign Prince,
To whom thou ought'st to yield Preheminence.
In Ancient times he was thine only Spouse,
(Our Holy Law no Bigamy allows)
Yet thou hast him perfidiously forsook,
And to thy self another Husband took;
And with a graceless Impudence art led
By thy lewd Train, to an Adult'rous Bed.
Thou hast dethron'd him, and thy brazen face
Sets up a Monstrous Traitor in his place,
To whom thou hast Blasphemous Titles given,
Exalting him above the God of Heaven.
Thou hast not only playd th'Adulteress,
But plain Idolatry thou dost profess;
Of Treason, Murder, Theft, (abhorred things!)
Of Burning Citys, poysoning of Kings,
Of Undermining States, and furthermore,
Of spoiling Trade, and making Kingdoms poor,
Of horrid Plots, of causeless bloudy Wars,
And of contriving cruel Massacres,
Thou guilty art; thy bloudy Rage has hurl'd
Millions of Innocents out of the World:
Prodigious Numbers have in divers Lands
Been Sacrific'd by thy bloud-thirsty hands.
Insatiate Butcheries that know no end!
Thou stabd'st men, when thou Pity didst pretend.
In times of Peace thy horrid rage has shed
Bloud without Measure, thou hast murthered
90
They thought themselves the most secure of men,
Thou hast made Currents of their guiltless bloud
To run like Waters of a mighty Flood;
So void of Pity, your inhumane rage
Destroy'd the Saints, and spar'd no Sex nor Age.
Speak Bloudy 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 distress, lend me your helping hand.
All Angels, and Arch-Angels I invoke,
To strengthen me, and to divert the Stroke:
These Hereticks will work wy Overthrow,
I am amaz'd, I know not what to do!
Belzebub.
What needs my Darling thus to stand and pause,
Thou know'st the Custom of our Romish Laws,
Though black as Hell, yet be not so forlorn;
Swear, that thou'rt guiltless, as the Child unborn.
What Violence to Hereticks you do,
Is lawful, honest, and your Duty too.
91
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'll stand in just Defence
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)
By clear probation in its proper place.
You say, that you your God can daily make,
Which is an Idol of a Wafer-Cake.
If thou dost Shrines and Images adore,
And prov'd to be th'Apocalyptick Whore;
If thou upon the Scarlet Beast doth sit,
And Lewdness with so many Kings commit;
It clearly follows from these Marks, that thou
Art a meer Strumpet, and hast broke thy Vow.
92
Dis-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 Complaints do now appear.
That Bloudy Whore, the Pris'ner at the Bar,
Has follow'd us with a perpetual War,
Because we would not to her Idols bow,
Nor her curs'd Edicts and base pranks allow.
And with our just Complaints do now appear.
That Bloudy Whore, the Pris'ner at the Bar,
Has follow'd us with a perpetual War,
Because we would not to her Idols bow,
Nor her curs'd Edicts and base pranks 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 refus'd to do,
Most horrid Execution did ensue;
Our Brethrens Brains out of their Heads were beaten
And by her Imps were fry'd and after eaten:
Our Children rent to peices, 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 ty'd with Ropes they pierc'd unto the hearts,
And hung up others by their Secret Parts.
Houses and Barn-fulls they have burnt, so that
Our Suff'rings are beyond an Estimate.
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 refus'd to do,
Most horrid Execution did ensue;
Our Brethrens Brains out of their Heads were beaten
And by her Imps were fry'd and after eaten:
93
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 ty'd with Ropes they pierc'd unto the hearts,
And hung up others by their Secret Parts.
Houses and Barn-fulls they have burnt, so that
Our Suff'rings are beyond an Estimate.
Bohemia. Germany. Poland. Lithuania, &c.
To satifie 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-numbred were our Slain
Which in the Field unburied did remain:
Our Brethren they have hung upon a Beam
And then consum'd them in a lingring flame.
Some she has into boyling Cauldrons put,
And many others into peices cut,
Without respect unto the Hoary Head,
Into their Throats they powr'd down melted Lead;
And many other deaths she did contrive:
Some burned were, and others flead alive.
94
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 burn'd to death,
For owning of the Apostolick Faith;
Jerom of Prague, to fill her Measure up,
She made, soon after, drink of the same 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 Crueltys she must
Their Bodys mangle, to asswage her Lust;
Some hang'd in Water, yield their strangled breath;
Some brain'd on Anvils, some were starv'd to death;
Some hall'd with Pullies, till the Top they meet
With heavy Weights and Loads upon their feet.
Rap't Maidens stab'd, poor Infants yet unborn,
From Mothers Wombs by bloudy hands were torn
How many thousand guiltless Christians were
Butcher'd in the Parisian Massacre?
95
Whilst others languish in a lingring pain.
Our Worthy Kings have lost their Noble Lives
By Jesuits Poysons, and by Monkish Knives.
I can produce an uncontroull'd Record
Of many Thousands Murder'd by the Sword.
It would require whole Volumes to transcribe
The bloudy 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 & do Judgment crave,
Save us much labour, for we heretofore
Have felt the same, from this bloud-thirsty Whore.
Besides, being next her Seat, and neer her Power,
Her greedy Jaws our Brethren did devour
With cruel Spite, and without intermission,
We have been tortur'd in her Inquisition.
No Tongue can speak the unexampled terror
Of that curst Pattern of Infernal horrour.
They count it mild, when they our Persons burn,
And Wives and Children into Ashes turn;
They say they're courteous when our Throats they cut
Or when in Dungeons (vile as Hell) we're put.
96
Their Daggers, Pistols, Axes to destroy.
In lingring flames they did our Brethren roast,
On Halberts tops we saw our Infants tost:
All this we've suffer'd, and a Thousand more,
And that 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 colours draw,
Than Bloudy Nero, or Caligula.
Those horrid Tortures which my Brethren say
She exercis'd on them, the same I may
Affirm t'have suffer'd, 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 Massacre, proclaim'd it was a sin
Unpardonable, if they durst to give
Quarter, or our Necessities relieve;
Some they stript Naked, then they bid them go
Through Bogs & Mountains, in the Frost & Snow
Men, Women, Children, then were butchered,
And all that spoke our Language punished;
The very Cattel, if of English breed,
They slasht and mangled, that they could not feed.
With joy, that Romish and rebellious Brood
Have wash't their hands in Marty'd English bloud.
97
From these Barbarians have been famished.
Their faithless Gentry, that pretended love,
Perswaded th'English that they would remove
Their Goods to them; Yet (once 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 bodies flung;
The youngest on the Mothers breast did stick,
Cries, Mammy, Mammy, yet is buryed quick.
Some hackt to pieces, travailing Women strip'd,
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 did cast,
They cry, 'Tis Hell-fire, and a lovely blast;
That blessed Book, when some have trampled on,
They cry, Plague on't, that has the mischief done.
They made poor Wives, their Husbands blood to spill,
And trembling Youths, their aged Parents kill.
They forc'd the Son to stab his Dearest Mother,
And then one Brother to destroy the other.
98
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 Tenter-hooks, grave Matrons were,
And Virgins hang'd up in their Mothers Hair.
Some, with their small Guts, were forc'd to run
About a Tree, until their Life was gone.
The Mouths of godly Ministers they cut
Unto their Ears; betwixt their Jaws they put
A monstrous Gag, then with a Romish Scoff
They bid them preach, their Mouths were large enough.
In these furies brag'd, that (to their joy)
They did Two hundred thousand Souls destroy.
We therefore pray, as others did before,
For a just Sentence on this bloody Whore.
Scotland.
O monstrous horror! Oh abhorred sink
Of Villany! O bloody Throats that drink
The Bloods of Innocents! which oft they quaft
As freely as a common Mornings Draught!
Thousands of mine were butcher'd by this Whore
In that poor Nation, that has spoke before
The sufferings of my guiltless Natives, were
Equal with theirs in every little there.
99
Was not content, but tortur'd me at home.
Some burnt, some hang'd, some scourg'd, some banished,
Some drown'd, and some in Dungeons murdered.
A sinking Grief forbids me to inlarge,
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 sleep.
They have an art to work upon the weak,
That they Gods Order should in pieces break;
Under pretences of refrom'd Devotion,
They instigate the Rabble to Commotion;
That in those troubled Waters they may fish,
And bring about their long expected wish.
Their cursed Politicks have been employ'd,
To ruin those that they have so decay'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 the Victims may be made.
Thus have I open'd something of my Grief,
And from the Judge expect a quick relief.
100
Had I as many Tongues at my commands,
As Argus Eyes, Briareus Hands;
I scarce could in a Century express
One half of my unspeakable distress!
In every Age I had some Sons of Light,
That would discover Romes Egyptian Night;
Yet they no sooner on the Stage appear,
But that her Setting Dogs, like Blood-hounds, were
Upon the scent, and never left pursuit,
Until to death they did them persecute.
My Royal Edicts this bold Whore has broke,
And on my Neck clapt her Tyranick Yoke.
Vast Treasures from my Natives were extorted,
And to inrich her Exchequer transported.
Prodigious Sums she yearly squeezed hence,
For Pardons, Obits, Annales, Peter-pence.
And though each Land where she her Triumphs led,
Whose swarms of Locusts Priests and Friers wed
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, murher'd, burnt or massacred.
The Papal Beast could in a Frollick tell,
I was his Fountain inexhaustible.
101
Within my Bowels, which the Land polluted;
With such a pest of vile Debaucheries,
As Pagans, Turks, and Infidels outvies.
She crushes any that her Acts opposes;
My Kings she Poisons, Murders or Deposes.
Some she deludes her Sov'raignty to own,
And does instruct them to betray the Crown.
Her lurking Imps do menace me with storms,
Like Egypts Frogs in pestilential swarms.
She is so greedy nothing will suffice,
Unless I'm more a general Sacrifice.
'Tis known to all the Earth, how many ways
She martyr'd Protestants in Marian days.
Then was I made a dismal Field of Blood,
Which ran like currents of a swelling flood.
She stirs the Spaniard in a great bravado,
For to invade me with his proud Armado.
The hellish Powder Treason she prepares,
At once to blow up Commons, Kings and Peers.
Her hellish Brands (without a spark of pitty)
Consum'd to Ashes my Imperial City.
Nought but my Ruine her can satiate,
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,
Its still more deadly and inveterate.
102
That has discover'd her infernal pranks;
Yet I am still in danger, and therefore
Do beg just sentence on this bloody Whore.
This Whore cannot be the Beast.
1. Because the Beast is exprest in the Masculine Gender, the Man of Sin, the Son of Perdition, and the Beast that was, and is not even HE, is the Eight and of the Seven, i. e. He came up by means of the Liberty and large Revenues. The Seven Heads, viz. The Christian Emperors gave to the Church and Church-Men, though a different and distinct sort of Government to all before it, but Mystery Babylon is exprest by the Feminine Gender, a Woman a Whore, Mother of Barlo's; I saw the Woman drunk with the Blood of the Saints, &c. And when I saw her I wondered, &c.
2. The Angel describes them distinct, the one from the other, a Beast and Whore, I John saw them as clearly distinct as a Beast is from her that sits upon him, and I saw a Woman set upon a Scarlet coloured Beast, Rev. 17. 3.
3. If the Beast and Whore were one and the same, then the Whore sets up and rides upon her self; then which nothing can be more absurd and ridiculous.
4. There is as real a difference between the Man of sin, and the Whore or false Church, as is between Christ and the true Church: the Beast or Anti-Christ is the Head, the Whore is the Body; and indeed it was by renouncing the Headship and Government of Christ Jesus, and espousing, owning, and swarming to the Headship and Supremacy of the Pope, that first gave the Church of Rome, the denomination of a Whore; for a Woman that has Two Heads, Two Husbands can be no other.
5. Moreover tis evident that the Beast shall remain though in Captivity, his Power being taken away after the Whore is destroyed. And burned with Fire, Rev. 19. 199 20[illeg.] Dan. 726.
Though 'tis granted the Magistratical Power of Popish Kings in large sence is singified by the Beast who do support the Ecclesiastick State or false Church, yet Originally it more strictly resides in the Pope, for by a volentary submission to him: he is become their Master, as Du Moulin, page 161. Observes their Crowns being at the Popes disposal, who takes it, and gives it (saith he) to whom he thinks good, which things have been Noted by Buicciardine, that famous Historian, in his History of the rises and advancements of the Pope.
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