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 New-mans Complaint in the Name of
Our Saviour Christ for the Romaine Churches
Apostasie and Adulterate Religion.
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 | The Church Militant |  |
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The New-mans Complaint in the Name of Our Saviour Christ for the Romaine Churches Apostasie and Adulterate Religion.
Whilst in thy Name I vent this just Complaint,Beare with my Song, O Christ, my Soveraigne Saint.
But thou, Romes Cause of Sinne, thou Dotards Clod,
Pack hence, or humbly waigh the Word of God;
I am Truths Light, yet None from roaming cease:
I am the Prince of Peace, yet None loves Peace:
I am the Hill, yet None climbes Sions Mount:
I am the Spring, yet None drinks of my Font:
I am the Shepheard, yet None heares my Call:
I am Gods Priest, yet None heedes me at all.
I am Sinnes Death, yet None from Sin will rise:
I am Soules Health, yet None me gratifies.
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I am Lifes Vine, yet none affoords me Place:
I am Faiths Quintessence, yet none partakes me:
I am Soules Manna, yet aright none takes me.
I am Most true to Man, None true to me:
I am Rais'd up, yet None my Forme will see:
I am Mans Baile, yet None doth con me Thankes:
I am Hells scourge, yet None hates Satans Prankes:
I am the Golden Meane, None waighes my Center:
I am Heavn's Doore, yet None the doore dares enter.
I am Gods Word, yet None will heare his Word:
I am their Iudge, yet None regards the sword:
I am Heavens strength, yet None sticks to my Fame:
I am Zeales-Mover, yet None heedes the Flame.
I am the Starre of the New-Eastern Morne:
I am the New-mans Head, yet None's new-borne.
I am the Thundrer, yet None feares my stroake:
I am Free-hearted, yet None beares my yoake.
I am the Lambe, None will my Nature take:
I am the Sunne, yet None Sinnes Cloudes forsake.
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I am Mens Hope, yet None will cease to grieve me;
But in these Times with coulour of my Rock,
The Dragons seed doth persecute my Flock,
And all Romes Clergy now doe listen more
Unto the Popes Decrees then to my Lore.
No wonder with Hells Plague that Soules are stung,
When such foule Mists rise from the Monsters Dung.
O wretched Man! whom neither Christ his Path,
Nor Gospel moves, nor yet his Threatning Wrath!
Yet if the Romaine None thou backward spell,
I may to thee a Converts LUCK fore-tell,
Thou soone shalt chase our Aiery Foes to Hell,
If thou by Faith seekst in the Heavens to dwell,
And by the Crosse the Old Man to expell.
Here lyes our Task: think on it, and Farewell.
| The Church Militant | |