The Church Militant :: :: University of Virginia Library

The Fratricells soone up, and quasht. At Masse
By Papall Plot then Cæsar pois'ned was.
Pope John maintaines, he can all Kings depose.
Our Wickliffe now Romes Doctrine doth oppose.

About the Dawne of this New Century,
The Fratricells of Anabaptists Fry
In Germany disperst their Arguments,
That Christians should not perk to Governments;

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But that all things lay Common to the Poore
As to the Rich. No Creature lesse or more
Then Others must possesse. Equallity
They taught of States and Lives Conformity,
Much like to that, which Plato Chymeriz'd,
Or the Utopian Weale, which Moore devis'd.
But their Opinions vanish'd into Smoak,
And they themselves endur'd the Churches stroak,
Censur'd for Bedlems of Corrupted Zeale,
Offensive to the Church and Common-weale,
Which without hope of Gaine would slothfull grow:
Yet by the Fruit a Christians Faith we know.
I wish in Wealth a Meane, from Mizers store
A Miracle extended to the Poore.
O how my Heart doth grieve to see their Cures
Neglected, whilst our Dronish Epicures
Most idly waste what Godly Families
Would save from Dearth, and serve as Sacrifice
To cover Sinnes. We carry hence no Gold
Nor Land. Eight Foot alone a Coarse will hold.

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A friers Act yet hapned to his Liege,
Great Luxemboroughs Cæsar, at the Siege
Of Florence more prodigious by the Popes
Procurement, which quasht sodainely the Hopes
And Life of the Imperiall Majesty,
(Deciphring Babels black Iniquity)
By a Black Frier with a Masses Cake
Envenomed, and taen his Heart-strings brake,
And so whom Force, nor Flashes could out-brave,
One hallowed Bit dispatcht him to his Grave.

Nor did the Next succeeding Emperour
Much better speed, for he likewise the sowre
And crabb'd aspect felt of proud Antichrist.
He Lewis dar'd out of the Church of Christ
By Thundring Bulls to shut, and made his Boast,
That he had Power through the Holy Ghost

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Both Emperours and Princes to dispose,
And at his Will their Kingdomes to transpose.
Thus John the Two and Twentieth of that Name
On Cæsar play'd, and Scriptures did defame,
Untill some Grave and Learned Men arose
In that Tempestuous Age him to oppose.

Among which Occam started up with Quill
Of Cherubs Wing, and prov'd that Doctrine ill.
He prov'd the Rule of all this Earthly Ball
To appertaine unto States Temporall,
And by the Light transferr'd from Holy Scrowles,
How Truth exempts no priviledged Soules,
No not the Pope himselfe from Cæsars Doome,
Since Peter felt by Nero Martyrdome.

So to the Glory of the English Race,
Who with the First withstood the Papall Mace,

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He, whom the Godly for his Learned Workes
Then styl'd, The Hammer of the Romish Church,
On Grosted I reflect, Grave Lincolnes Sire:
He stoutly wrot against his Forged Fire,
Which netled him so much, that out of hand
He would have cited him before his Band
Of Pharisees at Tiber to appeare,
But that admonish'd by his Councell there,
Sage Cardinalls, he was content to passe
Him over, lest the Bishop might surpasse
Them by his rare incomparable Lore,
And winde them in more Mazes then before,
Two Ages past had Abbot Ioachim
Against Romes Gaine a Prophet been to grim,
O Glorious Ile, most happy is thy Fate,
Which hadst the Luck first to descry thy State,
Thy Churches dolefull state by Babel torne,
And with the First to be in Christ New-borne,
To shake her Yoak quite off, and to flye out
From her Dark Jaile, mauger her Guardians stout.

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From time to time we read in Antiquaries,
God rais'd up some to sound forth Romes Vagaries,
Before that Wickliffe stretcht his Lions Paw,
One Robert Gall Soule-rapt in Paris saw
The Romish Church by Name with Head like Death,
And with a Body leane, and scant of Breath:
An Angel then, while this sight did appeare,
Bad him the Romish Church mark standing there.

She in our West was then of small extent,
Perhaps retir'd else-where, like Abrams Tent;
Or She far'd in that Antichristian Age,
Like Babels Jewes, or Saints through Neroes Rage.
Heav'ns Path is Narrow, Stiep. Hells Broad, down hill,
Good men but Few, the Greatest part are Ill:
Yet of those Few 'tis hard to know their Scope:
Some sicke, some weake, or of Potentiall Hope,

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Yet of those Few the True Church is compos'd,
And of those Few some were, like Starres, dispos'd
By our Good God of Dangers to fore-tell,
Whereby the Rest might save themselves from Hell.
So Petrarch sung in two-fold Latian Style,
And others did in Learned Workes compile
Glauncing, nay Striking at Romes Antichrist,
And drawing Soules from darke Cimmerian Mist.
So Boccace had, although with Tales disguiz'd,
The Friers wanton Thefts Epitomiz'd.
As likewise those Three Nunnes Canoniz'd Saints,
Like Babels Iewes, or Sybills made Complaints;
Good Katharine, Bridget, and Hildegard
Fore-told our New-mans Armes of safest ward,
And that a New Reform'd Presbytery
Their Liturgy should quash and Popery.

Thus by Records the Churches Race I try,
And by Faiths Light her Orient Face descry

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Like the New Moone approaching from the Wane,
And shine more bright in Consciences Humane.
By which and by Romes owne Historian Platine,
I finde how liv'd the Head of the Church Latine,
By Simony, and lewd Magicians Spells,
By Murthers, Fraud, and Coining of New Hells,
By setting all our Christendome at ods,
Because they kneel'd not to his Maumet Gods.
With Factious Guelphes, his hurliburles Assignes,
He warr'd against the Imperiall Gibellines.
Amidst these Broiles and Crimes exorbitant,
Christ whistled home his Flock extravagant.
Some knew his Sound, and to his Fold return'd,
Some staid behinde, and Refractaries turn'd.
The First he linkt with his Church Catholick,
But left the Latter of the Staggers Sick,
And for a Prey to Fiends, because his Call
They slighted, and his Cures Angelicall.
Such to be gull'd he left by Aiery Elves,
But his True Ark he steered free from Shelves.

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Now with faire Light from famous Oxford rose
Our Wickliffe, Romes Foundations to oppose,
By certaine Lords and Londoners Support,
Which though some crost, yet gave a lowd Report,
So lowd, that Husse and Ierome heard from Prague
The Noise, and learn'd to flye from Babels Plague,
And left to After-times such Fruitfull Seed,
That the True Church now glories in the Breed.

Then Chaucer by the Freedome of his Rimes
Unsilenc'd scan'd the Darknesse of those Times:
(Of such strange Force are Tunes of Raptur'd Wits,
That they have charm'd and still'd wild Tyrants Fits)
He plainely pointed at Romes Antichrist,
Admiring at the Clergies stormy Mist,
Which did so long our West exagitate,
Like them in Zeale, though with unequall Fate,

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Did the Lord Cobham since, the Bohemes Husse,
And those Good Soules in Brittaines Ile discusse
Religions state, those whom the Papists then
Nick-named for their Faith Just and Fast Men.
Whose Manner neere was such as Plany writ
To Trajan earst. They, as did Saints befit,
Assembled in the Night, sung Psalmes, Receiv'd
The Holy Food, and with sweet Trance conceiv'd
Christs Mystick Gifts, the New-mans Sacrifice,
The Spirits Flame, which Carnallists despise.
They liv'd as Brethren, leagu'd in Unity
With mutuall Love, and Goods Community,
Relieving One anothers Need alwayes,
Their owne Iust Fast Mens Need withour delayes.
For Pauls Epistles, or th' Apocalipse
In English pen'd, because there Babels slips
Were prophesied, they grudg'd not to defray
Five Sterling Marks, a Scriveners Royall Pay,
If we regard the scarcenesse then of Coine,
Before Castile did Perues Oare purloine,

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And which is strange, they seldome mixt their Seed,
But with their Mates, lest they might taint their Breed.
Fooles styl'd them then, as they now Lutherans,
The Knowne Men, or Wicklevian Puritans,
The Iust and Fast, or with a Brow more sowre,
Them Lollards markt, frō whence came Lollards Towre.

In Wales, About this Ages latter end,
Did Blasts from Hell to Friers Braine ascend;
False Miracles these Merit-monging Crew
Pretended done by Winifride did brew
Neere to a Well deriv'd from Rocky Lime,
Which Holy they enstyld in that Dark Time,
Because the Bloud of that good Virgin there,
As they surmizd, was shed, and not else-where:
Lord, how they roamd, like wild Geese, on the Fame!
And unto Baal with fat Oblations came!
All to enrich the Forgers of the Bruit
With what they never toyld for, Strangers Fruit!

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Before which Feat for their Monastick Weale,
Their Beggars Wants they knew not how to heale.
'Tis strange to see how soon the World turn'd Whore,
When Girald past Two Hundred Yeares before
That very Place with an exact Survay,
Yet could not learne what men did since display.