The Church Militant :: :: University of Virginia Library

The Christian Church, which Greeks & Latins rear'd,
In Brittaine lyes with Pagan Rites besmear'd,
Trod on by Saxons Troupes, and Wodens Brood,
But worse by her Owne Natives sheading Blood.

Five Hundred Yeares from Christ not fully told,
When Arrians stopt, then stept Pelagians bold
With more sly Tricks of Humane Worth to boast
Then that Dull Sect, which wrongd the Holy Ghost.

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Wherefore New Broiles infested Christendome,
To chastise men for Schisme, as to make Roome
For Antichrist the Head of Heretickes,
Which Mystick wise from Mungrell Catholickes
Deriv'd his Birth, and will a Tyrant grow.
Because Men loved Lies, such Plagues did flow.
Great Plagues indeed; which since defil'd the East
With Carnall Baites by an Arabian drest,
And with Soule-tainting Charmes by Popes profest,
Cookt by Pelagians first within the West,
Confounding Faith by Whimseyes of the Braine
With Flesh and Blouds Desires, and Merits staine,
So that Our Ile her Former Glory lost;
There was no Roome left for the Holy Ghost,
Pelagius had her Motions so engrost
And then her North to Humler all was lost
By Scots and Picts usurpt with dismall woes.
Because she Grace blasphem'd, God sent her Foes,
Which like a Deluge broke through Adrians Wall,
Till Strangers came with Armes to end the Brawle.

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Yet ended not her stinke of Ghostly sinne,
Nor Carnall Snares, where she involv'd had beene.

The Sunne had run One Hundrid Yeares at full,
Ere Heathnish hands could all her Feathers pull,
Or part asunder her Old Seamelesse Weare,
Which Christ his Font had dipt with Reverend Feare,
In Dies sent her from Eleuthere in graine,
And by Great Helens Sonne Confirm'd againe;
Plaine without staine, I meane, and free from Pride,
Or that foule Schisme, which did her since betide
By her Abortive Brood, Pelagian Crew,
The Sect that made Millions of Soules to rue.
Plaine Robes she wore without Embroidery,
Or Worldlings Garbe, when Antient Hillary
Greeted his Brethren here in Brittany,
Those whom Faith linkt to Saints sweet Company.
So well had Damian and Fugatius bore
Christs Ensigne here two hundred yeares before,

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That at the Councell Grace Theodoret
Rejoyc'd to see our Brittish Elders met.

With Purest Flowres Our Brittain Church did bloom,
Till in Honorius Raigne, Gothes ransackt Rome.
She flourish'd under Romaine Legions long,
But those being gone, she faded and went wrong;
And then Fiends watcht the Time while Heresie
Possest weake Albions Braine with Lunacie.
They saw how she cosseted her Child
Pelagius, now she was by him beguil'd,
They loath to lose advantage, nurst the Hate
Betwixt her and her Aydes. Although of late
The Remnant which the Romaine Cæsars left
Of Souldiers here to guard this Ile from Theft,
Were with the ablest Brittish Youth to France,
Transported there to lead a Warre-like Dance
Against Romes Foes, where by Warres-casualties
Few liv'd to see their Home-Calamities:

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Yet Brittaines rather here for Empire fought
Then to gaine Soules for their Redeemer sought,
Or rather Romaine Fry in Brittaine borne,
Their Factions made Our Brittish Church a scorne:
Their Church, which late with Twenty eight did towre
Since counted sev'n, and ebb'd to Bishops foure.
Their Temples and Romes Legionary Townes,
Were quarter'd out for Teutons Garrisons;
Before the Sunne had Forty yeeres his Race
Run through, since Hengist rais'd Old Wodens Mace,
Those Germains then did them, like Wolves, devoure,
Since Home and Forraigne Saints did faile to scoure
Their Vessels cleane from Filth, since both did faile
Saint German and Saint Lupus to prevaile.

After these Starres declin'd to Natures Course,
For Thirty Yeares the Church oft fared worse,
Some times aloft she mounted; other times
She stood amaz'd at Change of Worldly Climes;

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Peace setled her in a Calme Aire againe,
When Dubrice did Pelagian Blasts restraine,
About the time of Great Justinians Raigne,
And then a while Our Church renew'd againe,
When after home bred Jarres and Civill strife,
Our Petty Kings chose Valiant Arthur Chiefe
Over their Troupes in Brittaines Westerne Lands
Against fierce Wodens Race, and Saxon Bands,
But soone relaps'd the Brittaines, proud of spoiles,
Not caring for Devotion, all for Broiles.
They one another strove more to supplant
For Elbow-roome, then Christian Faith to plant.

Such impious Blurres observ'd by Hellish Fiends,
They sow'd Debate betwixt them and their Friends,
Made them so slight their Patriarchs grave advise,
That in dispaire he from Carleon flies;
Whence cause he brookt not the Silures Crimes,
Demetia a beg'd his Crozier, Hapre, and Chimes.

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But why didst thou, Saint David, fly from Usk,
To smell of Herrings, when thou mightst have Musk
And Frankincense to offer unto God,
Neerer then where thou fixest thy Abode?
Amidst the Craggy Hills and Foaming Floud,
So farre remote to doe the Saxons good?
Why mightst not thou beat downe Idolatries,
As thou didst daunt Pelagian Mysteries?
Which by Free-will had strove Gods Grace to rend,
And on Mans owne Poore Merits to depend?
Feare caus'd thy Flight, or else thy Clergies Hate
Brookt not the Glory of a Rising State;
Or Discontent to finde the want of Love,
Among thy Flocke procured thy Remove.
Meane while behold thy Country-men at ods,
Struggling for brittle Sway, like Demy-Gods.

At the Decease of that brave Martiall Prince,
Whose Tombe was found in Glastenbury since,

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All went to wracke, like Alexanders State,
They parted that which he had gain'd of late,
And by their Strife with fell intestine Rage
The Victours lost the Saxons Vassalage.
While they obey'd One Soveraigne Generall,
Nor Scots nor Picts could work their finall Fall.
Their Foe-men paid them Tribute, and the East
Of Wodens Brood cring'd to the Brittaines West.
But Sussex now out-braves proud Constantine,
While Vortipore South Cambria makes to whine.
Looke how the Nymphes of Dee and Severne grone
To beare the yoak of Conan and Malgon;
How Mone and Man with the Lancastrian Lasse
Cry out: Alasse, that they serve Cunoglasse,
Who, though the Greatest of the Brittaine Kings,
Shames Christians more then Humbers Pagan stings.

These leagu'd with Arthur late for States Defence
Against their Foes, now for Preheminence

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Contend, and kill their Kinne, like Sheep or Beeves,
And, which to blaze as yet my Nation grieves,
More prone to smother Truth with glozing Cardes
Then heare their Twuysogs Fall by honest Bardh's:
Two harmelesse Youths of Arthurs Princely Ligne
Were slaine in Wintons Church by Constantine,
That Cornish Wolfe, who had usurpt their Right,
He slew them there in their owne Mothers sight,
Without regard unto that Sacred Place,
To Christ his Altar, or their Noble Race.
And as their Kings, so did their Iudges rave,
Sheading Inferiours Bloud, whom Christ forgave.
They sit on Theeves, themselves the greatest Theeves,
Defloure the Daughter, whilst the Father grieves.
Their Plighted Mates they murther or divorce,
And spare not Altars to profane with Force.

The Bruit of these Misdeeds inhumane strikes
Such Odiousnesse, such Horrour, and Dislikes,

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That their owne Bloud, whom Brinish Seas divide,
Gaules Britonants, disdaine with them to side;
And their Old Friends of Patricks Iland scorne
To ayde a wicked State through Discord torne;
Nay worse, instead of aide Gurmundus came
From thence for Spoiles, and soone them overcame,
The Brittaines thus forlorne, Northumbria gaines,
Mercia starts up, and the West-Saxon Raignes,
Which Last will last, and shall chalk out the way
In times to come for a Monarchique Sway.

No wonder that rude Strangers gained roome,
And banishd them from their best Native Home,
Sith neither Dubrice, David, nor such Starres
Could them reforme, God sent them bloudy Jarres;
Not all at once, but by Degrees he sent
His whips of Wrath whereby some might repent;
But all in vaine. No Threats could Brittaines tame,
They did those Sinnes which Painims blush to name.

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Hengist at first did but East Brittaine claim,
And Thirty Lustres past ere Angles Prease
Durst Severne passe, and longer Yeares then those,
Ere Offa could his Marches Meeres enclose:
During which Terme had Brittaines trud the Path
Of Penitence, they might have calm'd Gods Wrath,
Exchang'd with Foes the Chain of Thraldomes yoak,
And scap'd what since they felt, Bellonaes stroake.

So sung a Swan of Claudius Cæsars Towne,
Whose Birth fell out that Yeare, when Brittaines won
The Day with Trophees at the Barbon Hill,
And did their Trench with Saxon Coarses filt.
He not a Rush did for lewd Tyrants passe,
But against Five stood like a Wall of Brasse.
He shew'd what heavy Plagues would them befall,
How they and none but they caus'd Brittaines Fall;
Their Incests, Thefts, and their loud Crying Sinnes,
Which to commit they car'd no more then Pinnes,

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With Tragick Buskin and Propheticke straine,
He fear'd not of their Treasons to complaine,
Who though but weake against the Common Foe,
Divided Kings, at home yet raged so
With Bloudy spoyles, that through their Tyranny,
They lost the most Part of West Brittany,
For all, which they possest from Winchester
To Cornewall, Pagans got with Glocester.
Now Sussex, and the Mercian Kings arise
On Severnes shoare to plant Dutch Colonies.
Such Threnes of thine, Good Gildas, proved true,
As Christians felt by that which did ensue.

Their Champions then to Woods & Mountains fled,
Where Savage bent, and with such Rancour led
For the long Knives Complot, which like a Torch
From time to time did their gall'd Entrailes scorch,
Their Clergy at no hand would joyne to Preach
The Gospel, nor the Saxon Rout to teach,

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Unlesse they would to them againe restore
Their Country back, which they had snatch'd before:
Untill at length Romes blessed Gregory
Dispatcht a Monke of Famous Memory
To Englands Kent, where soone he did convert
Prepar'd by his Faire Queene King Ethelbert.
Whence thousands moe with all their Kings became
By Austines paines Baptiz'd, to Brittaines shame.
For which neglect of theirs, and Neighbours scorne,
Their State all rent, and through Dissention torne,
Northumbers since did to West-Chester rush,
Slay Bangors Monkes, and Brocmaels Forces crush
So deadly, that thenceforth they seldome dar'd
To try the Fields Event with Foes prepar'd.
And this sore Blow in Judgement them befell,
As Gildas first, and Austine did foretell.

Thus stood the case with Brittains Commonwealth,
Because they gave themselves to Rapines, Stealth,

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To Fraud, Revenge, and chiefly to contemne
Those, whō they might have made good Christian men
Without the helpe of more Competitours,
Brought from proud Rome to build up Babels Towres,
For Austine, when he came, began to strive
With them for Rule, and Romes Prerogative,
Which compli'd not with Saints of Christian sort,
As an old Hermite guess'd by Austines Port,
Who Pope-like set disdain'd to rise and greet
Sev'n Christian Bishops with Love-congies meet.
Such harsh Salutes, or Inhumanity,
So farre remote from sage Urbanity,
What could they but distracted Rents produce?
Ending in Schisme, and Holy things abuse?
Our Saviour Christ was meek, all made of Love:
The Devill proud, and so his servants prove.
O what adoe they kept? what Coile? what sturres?
With Synods Pleas, with Quillets, and Demurres?
Like Turkes for Turbants, Monkes for Frizes Hew,
So Christians then did one another sue.

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The Easters Time procur'd this Factious Brawle,
The Romish Claim'd from Peter and from Paul,
The Brittish by Prescription from Saint Iohn,
And their Feasts Date the Greek Church grounded on.
But nothing could appease the Adverse side,
Till Force at last the Quarrell did decide,
Untill Saint Colman and the Scottish Clerkes
For Unions sake were faine to yeeld to Quirkes,

Pope Fœlix now sign'd the Last Unctions use,
Which did in time a Sacrament produce,
That by more Fees Priests might enrich themselves
For sacring Oiled Feet from aiery Elves.
One thing of Note must not forgotten be,
How in the Yeare Five Hundred Fifty Three.
Then at a Councell in Bizantium held
The Romaine Pope Vigilius was refell'd
For Heresie, Judg'd Excommunicate,
And doom'd to be deprived of his State.

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For which and murthers prov'd the Emperour,
With slender diet starv'd him in a Tower,
A just reward for claiming all that Scope
Of Liberties due to the Westerne Pope,
Which Nicens Councell under Constantine,
Did long before betwixt Five Popes assigne,
Betwixt them of both Romes, of Salems Flocke,
Of Antioch, and of Alexandriaes stocke,
So that our Popes in the West Franchise watcht
The Soules, which Peters Net for Christ then catcht,
Not with Hells Husks, Traditions, Dreames, and hies,
But them to feed with Scriptures Homilies.
So wily was the Serpent to begin
With our Prime men and Starres, to plunge them in
The Gulfe of Worldly Pride and Avarice,
That by their meanes they Others might entice,
For when the Head feeles Pestilentiall Flame;
How soone puts it the Members out of frame?
If, like Saint Peter, He that claimes his Place,
Had liv'd, Romes Church had stood in better Case.

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But how should then the Prophesies of Paul,
And of Saint Iohn beene verifi'd at all?
In vaine the Man of sinne, Perditions Sonne,
Long time by Cæsars Pompe barr'd in that Throne
To sit as God, and in Gods Temple too,
The use of Meates and Marriage to undoe;
To wrong the Church by Carnall Sacrifice,
Of Soules and Bodies making Marchandise;
In vaine Great Babels Whore the Scripture hath
Describ'd, if Rome had kept her Former Faith:
By thrall'd Vigilius mark, that Popes were then,
Ev'n for Six Hundred Yeares to Mighty Men,
Eaths Lords, enthrall'd aswell for Life as State;
Yea, Christ our Head to Cæsar paid a Rate
Both for himselfe and Peter from a Fish
Without excuse, Grudge, or repining Pish,
As they did since, which challenge Peters Chaire,
Under pretext Romes ruines to repaire.
And herewithall let all true Christians know:
“As long as men are kept in aw and Low,

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“At some High Powers beck, whom they doe feare,
“So long they vertuous are, or so appeare.
This of the Popes may well be verified,
“While they were by the Cæsars terrified,
“And subject to the Lawes, so long they thriv'd
“In Goodnesse, Pteacht the Crosse, in order liv'd.
But when they once obtain'd the Primacie
Above their Peeres, and the Supremacie
Above the Cæsars, then they wantoniz'd,
Grew Avaricious, Proud, and ill adviz'd.
But this great Flame will not breake throughly out,
Untill th' Eleventh Age shall wheele about,
When with False Christs, like Capernaites Chymeres,
The Dragon more will charme Great Babels eares.
Thinke on these Sparks, yee States and People all,
From the Kings Bench to the poore Coblers Awle.