University of Virginia Library

The Argument.

The Authour here from the New-man derives
The Churches Web, condemnes the Dronish Hives,
Blames Labans Saints, and false Poetick Dreames,
Which he reformes, and so concludes his Theames.

I blunder forth no Quirkes, nor Captious Theames,
No triviall Toyes, nor fond Lascivious Dreames.
While Carnall Wits were pleas'd to weave such Tales,
Of late I found the New-mans Wormes in Wales,
Whose Entrailes spun in my retired Home
For me some Silk, which suits with Englands Loome,
Without engagement to a Forraigne Shore,
For Flaunders, Romes, or the Hesperian Love.
And now my Silk-wormes store Domestick spun
I have divulg'd before the Fates have run
Their Period out for my poore Threed of Life,
Before strong Passions wave my Thoughts with strife,
My Sences with more Griefe, or what might let
The serious Task which Christ on me had set.
Though Hydraes hiss'd, and Mammons Asses bray'd,
Yet could not all their Coile make me affray'd,
Nor daunt my Free-borne Muse from setting forth
To publick view some usefull wares of worth;
Nor could Romes Canons Noise roar'd out from Trent
Deterre my Zeale, nor fear my faire intent;
Where they have doom'd the Books of Protestants,
The New-mans Fruit, for wild Extravagants.
Such Panick Goblin Feares I leave to them,
Who slighting Truth the Spirits Rayes contemne.
Not tempting Wine, nor Feasts delicious Bait
Could make me sound a Cowards base retrait;
Nor could the Stormes of our late Adverse Times
Disturbe, or shake my Forme of Sacred Rimes,
Where I have limm'd in a two-folded Frame
Our Saviours Life, and his True Churches Flame,
Whereof the Latter here I first produce
To usher that of the Divinest Use.
No pamper'd Sloth, nor Housholds netled Care,
Nor Natures Nets could my Resolves ensnare
To hide from you her Tents, and War-fares Wayes
From Christs Ascent untill our present Dayes,
But that I would to yeeld you some Content,
Strow her good Tents with Leaves of Rosy scent,
And to recure the Saulish Moone-sick Braine,
I would enchant the Sence with Musicks Straine.
I lock not up my Use of Labour'd Houres,
Nor poast it o're unto Executours,
Like Miser-Churles, who worldly Goods conceale,
And wrong thereby the Christian Common-weale,
Who at their death the same most madly leave
To such as may their hoped Trust deceave.
The Authour dead: who cares to mend his Bookes?
No Step-Dame well to Orphans Breeding lookes.
No Nurse respects a tender Suckling Wight
Like Her, who claimes the Native proper Right,
As Iudaes wisest King long since descri'd,
When he gave Doome on the True Mothers Side.
Unhappy are those Scribes, who catch no Soules
For Christ, if so they may, by Holy Scroules;
And much too blame are those of Carnall Brood,
Who loath to taste of Intellectuall Food,
Yet surfeit on Old Tales of Robin Hood,
Of Friers Cowles, or of Saint Benets Hood,
Of Patricks Broiles, or of Saint Georges Launce,
Of Errant Knights, or of the Fairy Daunce.
But Yee, who are borne of Immortall Seed,
Scorne your Best Part with Honey'd Gall to feed.
Fly, Readers, fly, and shunne such Baites as these,
Which though they for a time the Sences please,
At last they breed a Soule-sick ravery,
Which will from Truth distast your Memory.
Fly from such Cates, which shining Sinnes suggest,
And from their Sauce, though by a Prophet drest,
Like that, which on the way the Man of God
From Bethel tooke, although by him forbod.
Read vertuous Bookes, which Manners rectifie,
And may help up the Soule to edifie;
For even as the Spirits cleere and fresh
Excell in worth the massy Pulpe of Flesh:
Much more essentiall Joy and true Delight,
We must conceive, spring from the New-mans Light,
Where we by Grace may hap to be like Paul
In Spirit rapt above this Earthly Ball,
To Paradise, or the Third Heaven, where
He learn'd more Newes then he away could beare.
O doe not then the Spirits Gifts suppresse,
Since they beare up the Soule, beat down the Flesh.

They mount the Soule above the Christalline
And Starry Orbes to view with Sight Divine
Those Mysteries, for which the Greatest Clark,
Unlesse sometimes he stoupes, gropes in the Dark,
And never shall atteine to that brave Pitch,
Because his wings are soil'd with clammy Pitch,
Or borrow'd of the Peacocks stately Traine,
Which either lead him to Despaire and Baine,
Or to Presumptuous sinne, like Lucifers,
And then, as Lampes, false Meteours he preferres
Before the Light of Gods, Eternall Word;
And the Soules Banquet at his Sacred Boord.
Then, Humane shrines, and Monks Mythology
He more besaints then true Theology.
For as the Greeks Plurality of Gods
Devis'd, whom they confest to live at ods
Among themselves: so Superstition since
Crept in among the Robes, as at a pinch,
To further Hells Dominion like to fall,
When Romes Great Empire won'd, if sugred Gall
Had not been mixt with Faithes Restorative
By Satans Craft, to taint the Primitive
With Calendars of Canonized Saints,
To whom they fram'd instead of Christ Complaints,
As in Old time those Poets did approve
The Lesser Gods, as Advocates to Iove.
And by the like Distinctions in the Schooles
VVould them Create Subordinated Fooles,
Or Courtiers of th' Olympian Majesty
To intercede, or ayd Mortality.
To which they kneel'd in various Idol-shapes,
Like Babels Head of Gold, Calves, Cars, or Apes.

So Babels babling Dawes Saints Help exact:
Saint Margaret Lucinaes Part must Act,
Saint Anthony relieves them of the Pox
With Reliques Charmes fetcht from Old Baldems Box.
For the Twin-Brother Gods they consecrate
Saint Nicholas at Sea their Advocate:
Saint Eustace must uphold the Forrest Game,
For which Old Pagans us'd Dianaes Name.
VVith a huge Club Saint Christopher they please,
As with the like those painted Hercules.
Yea, every Soile possessed Teutelares,
Small Gods, to ease them of their heavy Cares.
Iuno holp Carthage, Mars Rome, Pallas Greece,
Ceres blest Corne, Pan sheep, Pomona Trees,
So Denis France, George England, Iago Spaine,
And the like Saints to guard their Coast they faigne,
The Scottish Folkes were of Saint Andrewes ward,
Ireland of Patricks, Wales of Davids Guard.
Unto Saint Mark the Rich Venetian bends,
And he that Venice wrongs with Mark contends.
But above all Saint Peter beares the Bell:
He Rome protects, and Rome must all excell.
Numaes Ægeria Peter hath supprest,
VVith Romulus Saint Peter doth contest.
Nay, Peters Keyes the Eagle bruiz'd, but mist
Ianus his Peacefull Do ores to shut for Christ.

But we, which are of Gods Spirit borne
Lament to see Christs seamelesse Rayment torne,
Or parted from the Fashion Primitive,
But joine, like Saints, in Sacred Love to thrive.
We fly veine Dreames, which oft enchant the Sence
From worshipping the God-heads Excellence.
We slight the Tales of Poets-ranke Vagaries,
As Vowes to Saints with needlesse Ave-Maries.
While Others steale to Paths unknowne, or stray
To Stranger Coasts, we goe the surest way
For feare of Wolves, or what may else betide
A man that loseth Christ, his Chiefest Guide.
While some in Tongue unknowne, like Parrats, chat,
And aske of God by roat they know not what:
Our Churches Babes doe pray in Christ his Name
For what they want, and He doth grant the same
For his deare sake, who pleades for Humane Race,
While they with understanding crave his Grace;
And having gain'd their Suit they sing his Praise
With cheerfull hearts, new Tongues, & thankful Layes:
Not grounding Faith on Saints Pluralities
On Angels, Pow'res, or Principalities.

As for the Garbes of Poets Antick Fables,
They are but vaine, though Moralized Bables,
Vaine like themselves, who pip'd for Hire, or Fame,
While Saints of Zeale set out their Makers Name.
So David rapt with Blisse compos'd his Layes:
But Horace broacht for need Mæcenaes Praise.
So Ieremy Ierusalems Annoy
Bewail'd of Zeale; when Homer beg'd for Troy.
Our Straines therefore sprung from Celestiall Light
Shal Scurrile Songs scourge hence, like works of night;
Our Truth shall foile their Dreames, our Substances
Their Apes, our Faith their Heathnish Consciences.
And in their stead, to help Devotions Heat,
Our New man here cookes various sorts of Meat,
VVith Musick apt thy Spirits to refresh,
If thou suppresse the Motions of the Flesh.
Our Adam first shall hurle Prometheus downe;
Then, Noes Floud shall their Deucalions drowne,
With Titans Brood, whom they for Giants hatch;
And Babels Towre will Pelions Mount o're-match.
By Hemors Sonne our gadding Dinaes Rape
Doth unto Sires a faire Example shape
What foule Effects by Cock'ring Love ensue,
Since Indulgence both Parties then did rue;
More true then Helens Rape, by Theseus first,
And last by Paris of old Trojans curst.
Our Moses shall convince their faign'd mistakes,
As did his Rod th' Ægyptians charmed Snakes.
For Niobe into a Stone estrang'd,
We sounds Lots Wife to a Salt-Pillar chang'd.
For Ioves descent to be Philemons Guest,
Our Abram for Three Angels made a Feast;
And for the Formers Gift from Iupiter,
Our Solomon did Wisdomes choise preferre.
Our Sampson with the Jaw-bone of an Asse,
Doth Hercules and his Twelve Labours passe.
Our Iepthes vow for his Maid-Child too grim,
Doth the Grek Prince his Iphigenia dim.
Our zealous Davids Sling doth farre exceed
Their Perseus Shield, and Ariadnes Threed.
If Hylas they and Hercules object:
Or Theseus and Pirithous Loves select;
Our David lov'd his Ionathan more deare,
As may yet by his Epitaph appeare.
If they fetch Rites from Babel, Rome, or Creet:
Gods Lawes from Sinai we and Salem greet.
If Midas they with Asses Eares bewray:
We Humane Speech in Balaams Asse display.
If they gaze on the Coach of Phœbus Sonne,
We Iosuah sing Commander of the Sunne;
Ot else we can the Sunnes Degrees produce,
Backward to goe for Hezechiaes use.
But while they lift the Creatures Excellence,
We glory bring to our Creatour thence.
Thence we derive a Subject to commend
Gods Friendship showne to Man as to his Friend.
If they tune Odes in Æsculapius praise,
Because from Death He Theseus Sonne did raise:
From Holy Writ we many can transferre,
Who really to Life restored were.
If they insist on Delphica Oracles;
True Prophesies confirm'd with Miracles
We can from Gods choise Servants more rehearse,
Then may be coucht, or sung in stinted Verse.
And if they chaunt Loves Rapes by Carnall Jove:
We Canticles sing of Divinest Love:
And with our Vowes prevent Asmodeus Craft,
Mauger Loves Golden Wings and Poisned Shaft.
Let Halcion grieve for Ceix her Husbands death,
Till fabled for a Bird Sobs stop her Breath:
We for slaine Bethlems Babes count Rachels Teares.
Or the sad Badge we sing, which Salem weares?
Or else our Churches Threnes for her late Losse
Of Christian Bloud spilt causelesse at the Crosse.
Whilst that they bath in Aganippes Spring,
Of Jordan we and of Bethesda sing.
And while they climbe Parnassus forked Hill,
On Sions Mount we shew our sacred skill.
Instead of Pagan Baites with Calvary,
And Olives Fruit we sauce our Poetry
According to Christs Gifts infused new,
We leave those Dregges, which the Old man did brew.
As Oracles ceas'd after Christ his Death
Among the Gentiles by the Apostles Breath:
So faile those Lees, which Satan since did brew,
By our Religion, of some termed New.
So that for their false Metamorphosis
Of men to Earthly Formes, our Purpose is,
Soules to convert into Immortall shapes
By our New man, that foiles their Apes and Rapes.
And for that Dame Ephesian Idoliz'd,
We Christ his Mother-Maid Evangeliz'd.
Doe blesse and praise, but worship not of late
As Goddesse, least from God we derogate.
For Hermes, Pallas, or Apolloes Lore,
We crave the Holy Ghost to blesse our store,
For Tantalus in Hell, or Ixions Wheele,
We Dives Preach their racking gaine to feele.
Soules Iudges they serv'd Minos, Rhadamant,
And Æacus: But Christ our Iudge we chant,
Christ we looke for to Doome both Deal and Quick,
The Dead in Faith and the Church Catholick:
Meane while his Spirit raignes in every Place,
Yet craves as Man for men his Fathers Grace.
With this Prime Saint we satisfie our selves,
And for him scorne all Shrines, and Labans Elves;
Whom with the Father and the Holy Ghost,
One God in Three, we sound through Brittains Coast,
As we were bound at our New Second Birth,
Gods Angels all applauding us with Mirth.

Now, Eies, pack hence, whether Elizian Greece,
Th' Hesperides yee faigne, or Colchos Fleece:
Whether yee gull weake Soules, or them controule
With Benets Hood, or the Franciscans Cowle;
Whether yee slow spring Pooles Poeticall,
From Tophets Lake, or Streames Papisticall;
And Farewell Dreames, whether from Chollers steame,
From Dragons Gull yee flow, or Bloud and Fleame.
And in their stead, come Truth, thy Name we blaze,
For thy Bright Lampe doth Men and Fiends amaze,
Thou art the Life of a True Prophets Song,
And they who slight thy Sound, Gods Spirit wrong.
Then come, O Blessed Truth, Correct our Ods,
As thou long since hast quail'd the Pagans Gods;
And suffer not the Dragons Sorceries
To be commixt with Christian Mysteries,
Nor Legends of vaine Men to prejudice
The Gospels Light, or Our New Sacrifice.
On thee I built the Churches History;
By thee I found, that Babels Mystery
Eclips'd the Church from the seventh Century,
Till Wickliffe did into Romes Whoredomes pry,
And by his Pen that Subject more dilate,
Which Thousands now as copiously relate,
Which I among the rest, as they began,
Have warbled forth to daunt the Outward man,
Who by Nick-names doth taxe Our Church for New,
And to her Spouse out-face to be untrue.
Now to wind up my Task, I adde this Ode,
In hope no Saint will my intent explode:
Lest I the Doome of Wrath encurre,
Which Slugges doth for bad Stewards blurre,
I looke about with watchfull Cares
To see who wants some Holy Wares.
My Talents use I freely give
To cloath some Soules, whilst yet I live.
Divide the Web, Friends, as yee please;
The Weare is light producing Ease.
The Hew not gaudy, nor yet base,
But like White Robes, which Temples grace,
From Our New man I fetcht the Stuffe,
Let none then take the Gift in Snuffe,
Or taxe the Matter for the Forme,
Since what I could I did performe.
They came from Love, the Spirits Dove,
Let that suffice Good Mindes to move.