Miscellaneous works of George Wither

I who (before my Harp was tun'd or strung)
Began to play a descant on the Times,
And was among the first of those that sung
The scorn and shame of VICE, in English Rymes.
I, that have, now, just halfe the Age of Man,
Been slashing at those Hydra's heads of sin,

Which are, yet, more then when I first began;
And more deformed growne, then they have bin,
I, that have spoke of Truth, till few believe it;
Of taking heed, till Follie hath her doome;
Of Good-advice, till no man will receive it;
And, of Deserved-Plagues, till they are come:
Once more appeare, with an intent, to say
A needfull Word in season, if I may.

The Sun hath run his course through all the Signes,
And, thirteen times the Moone renew'd her light,
Since last I limb'd my thoughts in measur'd lines,
Or, felt my heart for Numbers tun'd aright;
For, ever since my Musings in the Field,
The close whereof, a Voice of PEACE fore-tells,
With such disord'red thoughts I have been fild
As use to thrive where sad distemper dwells:
And, we have, All, so broken that Condition,
On which our wished Comforts founded are,
That, of accomplishing our hopes fruition,
Not many certaine symptomes, yet, appear;
Though, therefore, I have silent been till now,
My slownesse blame not, neither murmure you.

The Muses are not still at my command,
Whereby those Informations are acquir'd,
Which many have expected at my hand;
(And somwhat out of season too, desir'd.)
The VOICE, there mentioned, was but a Sound,
Not then, articulated into words;
The perfect Forme thereof I had not found,
Nor what interpretation it affords.
If I had spoken, e're I had mine Arrant,
Beyond my wit, my forward tongue had went;
If I had run, before I had my Warrant,
Well might I, for my labour, have been shent.
There is, for all things an appointed houre;
And, Times, and Seasons, are not in my power.

My Vessell stirreth not, till that Wind blowes
Which never blowes but when, and where it list:
Drie is my Cisterne, till that Fountain flowes,
Whose flowings-forth, I cannot then resist.
Somtimes, in me, so low the Waters lie,
That every Childe and Beast is trampling on me;
Somtime againe, they rise, they swell so high,
That Princes cannot make a Bridge upon me.
Had King, and Parliament, the other day,
Commanded from me that which now I write,
To save my life, I knew not what to say
Of that, which was inspired yesternight:
And, being, now, as full as I can hold,
Though none they please, my Musings must be told.

Mistake not tho, as if it should be thought,
That by Enthusiasme, now, I write;
Or, that the matter which to me is brought,
By GODS immediate dictates, I indite.
Far is that Arrogancie from my Pen:
The Objects of my Contemplation, be
The same which GOD affords to other men,
Who use aright, the Guifts bestow'd on me.
The Muses challenge a peculiar phrase
And freedomes, not so well becoming those,
Who are confined to observe the lawes
Of common speech, and tell their minds in prose:
For, whereas these have but one worke to do,
I have, in my Intentions, often two.

To reason out a Truth, is their perfection;
That, so, mens judgements rectifie they might:
Thereat, I aime: But, how to move Affection,
And set the motions of the Will aright,
Is my chiefe work: And; to that end, I catch
At all advantages of Place and Time,
Of Actions, or Expressions; and, I watch
For ev'ry meanes of well improving them.

By which endeavours (and, for ought I know,
By some aid, more then ordinary too)
Mixt with mine own Conjectures, I fore-show
Some things, which GOD requires, or means to do.
And, when I apprehend such things as these,
They neither are conceall'd, nor told with ease.

As when a portion of new spritly-wine,
Is in a close, and crazie Vessell pent,
Which neither can sufficiently confine
The working Liquor, nor well give it vent;
Ev'n so I far'd: For, (though I felt my breast
With matter fully stor'd) seaven daies I strove
My swelling Thoughts, in Words, to have exprest,
Yet neither could desist, nor forward move.
But, on that night in which our Monethly-Fast
Had swallow'd up our greatest Festivall,
My Muse broke loose: And, now the stop is past,
Will run her Course, what ever may befall;
And (since to speak her mind she hath begun)
Resolves, She will be heard, e're She hath done.

Once more therefore, yee BRITAINS lend an eare;
KING, PRIEST, & PEOPLE mark what now I say,
And, if you shall be pleas'd this VOICE to heare,
Take heed, you harden not your hearts to day.
For, if your pride, and follie, shall despise
The gentle VOICE, that now salutes your eare,
Ere long, there shall another VOICE arise,
Which will not such a peacefull note preferre.
It shall not move with so becalm'd a Breath,
Nor be dilated through so milde an ayre,
But, from the wombe of Hell, and Jawes of Death,
Be thund'red forth, with horrours and despaire:
And, few shall hear that VOICES dreadfull sound,
Without a smarting, and a curelesse wound.

Though you my former Warnings did abuse,
It brookes excuse: Because, I so fore-told

Ensuing things, as yet, no Moderne-Muse
Hath done the like; and few in times of old:
But, now, by seeing those Predictions true,
You, as it were, an Earnest have receiv'd,
And an assurance, tendred unto you,
That, what is here declar'd, may be believ'd.
By vertue, therefore, of that Seal, and Signe,
I challenge that beleefe, and that respect,
Which appertaineth to this VOICE of mine,
Till, thence, I seeke to draw some ill effect;
By making that, which hath fulfilled bin,
An Argument to warrantize a sin.

If an advantage I shall take from thence,
To tempt, from any duty to be done;
To act, what gives the Deitie offence,
Or any unbeseeming Course to run;
Let me be censur'd as Impostors ought,
That woo the world, by seeking Heaven in show:
Or as a man that's by delusion taught,
To take more paines for Hell, then others do.
But, if this VOICE, by Truth shall stand approv'd,
And by your Consciences allowed be;
Resist not that, whereto you shall be mov'd,
Nor of my Hopes, at this time, hinder me:
For, in their prosecution, I'le proceed,
How e're you practice, or how ere I speed.

The twentieth year, tenth moneth, and sixteenth day,
With carefull thoughts, and thoughtfull heart opprest,
Near to the fruitfull Banks of Thame I lay,
With waking eyes, whilst others were at rest.
It was that day, on which they mournd apart,
By whom this Realm hath represented bin;
Thereby, instructing ev'ry Single-heart,
Which way, the Peace desired, must begin)
With private griefs, I had enough to do,
To rob my body, and my mind of rest:

Yet, I had many publike sorrowes, too,
By which, my other suffrings were increast:
And, who was ever unafflicted known,
That beareth others burdens with his own?

Were I but onely rob'd of my estate,
And, thereby brought in danger to be poore;
Or of such other mischiefs, as of late
These warres have brought on me, and many more:
Could I no other miseries conceive,
Then those, which make our carkasses to smart,
Our children crie, our tender women grieve,
Or trie the stoutnesse of a manly heart:
Were but the outward glories of this Realme,
Or of this Church, indanger'd, and no more;
Our wounds had needed but a common balme,
A sigh or two had blown my sorrowes ore:
Because, for shells, but little care I take,
Save onely for the precious kernell sake.

But, though the happinesse of Realmes and Men,
Doth not, alone, in outward things consist;
(Nay, rather gaines perfection, now and then,
By having some externall blessing mist)
Yet, he to his experience little owes,
Who sees not, that defect of needfull things,
Breeds incivility; and overthrowes
That industrie, from whence well-being springs.
And, he to our condition is a stranger,
Who knowes not, that, by these distractions here,
Reformed-Churches are (this day) in danger
To suffer, in our suffrings, ev'ry where:
And, that, if our confusions we pursue,
Meer Barbarisme will (ere long) ensue.

Who, can behold the spirit of contention
Still active; and, all overtures of Peace
Retarded still; or, poysoned with dissention,
Yet not bewaile our miseries increase?

Or, who laments not? that may feare he carries
Within his loynes, the seed of Generations,
That may be bred for Romish-Janisaries:
And, nursed up in their abhominations?
For, though GOD may prevent what we may dread,
(And will perhaps) yet none should senslesse grow
Of that wherewith our Land is over-spread;
Nor of those Plagues, which these may bring us to:
But, rather, labour for, by sighes, and teares
A publike Freedom from our private Feares.

For, who now dreads not, that upon this Age,
Worse Plagues are coming, then as yet, we view?
And, that the things we suffer, do presage
Far greater mischieves, will on those ensue?
Loe, that great Festivall, which by this Nation,
Was ev'ry yeare observ'd, upon this week,
With such magnificent solemnization,
That through the world, there hath not been the like:
That Festivall, which memoriz'd the birth
Of our great Pastor, and (for no small while)
Did fill each Temple, and each house with mirth,
Through ev'ry Shire, and Village, of this Isle:
That Feast into a Fast, our sins now turn;
And, where we have triumphed, we now mourn.

The Feast of Ashuerus, was to this
A petty banquet (if considered
In ev'ry circumstance) though great was his,
And many people for a long time fed.
The Jewish Passover, which did surpasse
The most for some respects; in all of them,
By our great Festivall, exceeded was,
As well in Plenties, as in Place, and Time.
For, therein, all Provisions did abound:
It was throughout all places, too, extended;
With some, it ent'rance in November, found;
And not till February, fully ended;

But, universally, twelve dayes, at least,
Throughout the Land, it was a yearly Feast.

That Festivall, (which till it was polluted
With Bacchanalian Rites, and Superstition,
A pious Observation was reputed)
Is now exploded, as a vaine Tradition.
Our Triumph-day, by Providence, is come
To be the day of our humiliations.
The Glorie, now, is quite departed from
This Kingdome, for our great abominations.
The pleasant things, in which we were delighted,
Are took away. The costly trimmings, which
To Superstition, Ignorance invited,
And which began to cozen, and bewitch,
Are broken down; Our brave rich-Robes are gone,
And, all of us, have Mourning-Garments on.

For our abuse of them, GOD, takes away
The chiefe of our Melodious-Instruments;
And, they who heretofore did sing and play,
Now, sadly sigh; or, howle forth discontents.
Our Lutes and Violls, (which were wont to sound
Eare-charming straines) are broke and throwne aside:
Or, by the noyse of Drums and Cannons drown'd,
In whose loud thundrings, terrour doth reside.
The Peace, which we supposed everlasting,
Is fled away: Our Iubilees are ended:
Our Horne of plenty, ev'ry day is wasting,
Our Foes are strong, and we are ill befriended:
Our fruitlesse hopes, have utterly undone us;
The things we feared, are now come upon us.

Our many great and unrepented crimes,
The Plagues that Sin hath multiplied here;
The wilfulnesse and madnesse of the times,
So represented to my fancie were,
That, through this Island, I (me thought) could see
No Worke secur'd from being overthrown;

No act, or counsell, from confusion free;
No place, that was not metamorphos'd grown:
No man, almost, that had not chang'd his mind;
No principle, that was not call'd in doubt;
No course, in which we might a safetie find;
No vertue, in all trials, holding out;
Nor any hope of being freed from
Our present evils, for the time to come.

That Cloud of Plagues, which fill'd in Embleme-wise,
The Title-page, of my Remembrancer,
(To set before this heedlesse Nations eyes,
A glimpse of Judgments, then, approaching near)
That horrid-cloud, through all these Iles disperst,
Me-thought I view'd; and showring on these Lands,
The black effects, which I long since rehearst;
And, all the Plagues attending GODS commands.
Not only Famine, Pestilence, and Sword,
With such, as bring on outward Desolations;
But, Plagues appeared also, more abhord
By those, who cherish noblest expectations:
For, though these harmfull are, more hurt they do,
Which murther us in Soule, and Bodie too.

I saw so great, so many our Distractions,
Such Discords, rising up between the Nations;
In ev'rie Shire, in ev'rie Towne such Factions;
In ev'rie Person, such dissimulations:
Among the Wise, I found so little Reason;
So little goodnesse, left among the Best;
In fairest shewes of Trust, such reall Treason;
And so much Fraud, where Truth was most profest;
That, neither want, nor wealth; nor wit, nor Folly;
Nor Vice, nor Vertue; Love, nor Hatred, neither,
Nor sanctified things, nor things unholy
Distinguisht were; but, shuffled so together,
That, all things in this world, appear'd, me-thought,
Into a Soul-confounding Chaos, brought.

Which melancholy Apprehensions rear'd
Such crotchets, and such whimsies in my braines;
That, many sights, and sounds, I saw and heard,
Like those which Feare begets, or Fancie faines:
Before me, as a shadow seem'd to passe,
Things present, past, and coming; till I saw
Quite out of sight, all that which IS, or WAS,
And, to an end things Future, also, draw.
Strange sounds and noyses, heard I round about me,
Or, in me rather; such as did begin
From those which rumbled ev'rie day without me,
Before a troubled Fancie let them in:
Which, though to be uncertaine Sounds, we grant,
A Mysterie, not one of them doth want.

One while, me thought, Wolves, Foxes, Dogs, & Swine,
A greedy, craftie, currish, nastie rabble,
Did howle, bark, snarle and grunt; and sometime joyne
In consort: Musike most abominable!
Sometime, as when an Angrie Lyon roares,
Or, as when Thunder breaks out of a cloud,
Or, as when raging Billows teare the shoares,
I Voyces heard; so shrill, so deep, so loud.
I heard, me thought, the Voyce of Desperation,
The crying Voyce of Sin, the Voyce of Bloud,
The Voyce of Death, and utter Desolation;
The Voyce of Iudgement, from an angrie God,
And ev'ry Voyce, and ev'ry Cry and Sound,
In which amazement, dread, and death is found.

Which, had it sounded to an Outward-eare,
(As, by my Vnderstanding it was heard)
The noyse, had made both dead and living, heare:
The Spheres to shake, and Earth, and Hell afeard:
The terrour of it, made my Soule to flie
Beyond the limits of corporeall things;
Sometimes descending, sometimes mounting high,
To shun the din, which doubt and horrour brings.

But, whatsoever way her course she stear'd,
Confused noyse did ev'ry where abound;
Confused actions ev'ry where appear'd;
Which caus'd my strong distempers to abound:
And, almost curelesse, made I my disease,
By asking of my heart, such things a these.

Why is this World (a Scene of sin and paine)
Fill'd full of shadows, which no substance have?
A place of time and labour spent in vaine?
And where we lose our selves, a Toy to save?
From thence, where we nor smart, nor griefe did feele,
We through the womb come crawling weakly hither;
Then getting strength, we scratch and fight a while;
And, through the grave, passe on, we know not whither.
If we pursue what nat'rally delights us,
And walk that course, which gives the flesh content;
Our Conscience, or some Powre-divine affrights us,
With inward seares, and threats of punishment;
And, if our selves we virtuously dispose,
The World, and all without us, are our Foes.

Disgracefull slanders, ev'ry where attend us,
Though none can, justly, any where accuse us:
They, who are most obliged to befriend us,
When we expect best usage, most abuse us.
They, who to all enormities are prone,
And make no conscience, of the foulest crimes,
(If they suspect us guiltie but of One)
Mis-judge us, as off-scourings of the Times.
While for their peace, our studies we employ,
And spend our selves, to propagate their good;
They, labour our well-doing, to destroy,
And staine their murth'rous weapons, with our blood,
As if those portions they regarded not,
Which were not torne, out of a brothers throat.

Since Kings, and Princes, were at first promoted,
Nor for their owne, but for the Peoples sake,

Why, on their trappings, have all Ages doted?
How, did our Creatures, flaves of us, first make?
How grew man-kind so mad, to flatter them
Vp to that needlesse height, of pomp, and powre,
Which makes their Arrogancies to contemne
Our Freedomes? and our Birth-rights to devoure?
How, are they still so fool'd, as not to know
(By that which they have heard, and read, and see)
That, Tyrants alwayes have an overthrow,
When great'st their Hopes, and their Oppressions be?
And, justly, lose their Honours, Crownes, and Lives,
By struggling for unjust Prerogatives?

Since GOD, for MAN, at first, this world did frame,
(And made it principally for the sake
Of those who serve him, and adore his Name)
Why, doth his Foe, possession thereof take?
How comes it, that the Serpent, and his breed,
Lords Paramount through all Earths Kingdomes are?
And, that the promis'd and the blessed Seed,
Enjoyes of this vast Globe, so small a share?
Yea, since the Earth is GODS, and they are His,
To whom, by free donation, it was given:
Why, is their due infringed, as it is?
And, why are they from their possessions driven,
Scorn'd, injur'd, and abus'd, as abject things,
Where they should honour'd be, as Lords and Kings?

Why is the chosen flock of Christ so few,
And, they so numerous, who them despite?
(The Pagan, the Mahumetan, the Iew,
The Papist, and the Bosome-Hypocrite.)
Since GOD made Man, for good, and not for ill,
(To be in him, and with him, ever blessed)
How did his Foe first captivate his Will?
How, of his Creature, is GOD dispossessed?
How, is he glorified, while those Fiends
Do persecute, insult, and domineere

In mischieves? and in ruining his Friends,
Who said, Their Lives and Deaths, to him are deare?
Since GOD is good, why, so prevaileth evill?
Since he's Almightie, how, so thrives the Devill?

Whilst these Expostulations I pursu'd,
A BOOKE to me appeared, fairly writ;
In which, I satisfying answers view'd
To all the Questionings of Carnall-wit.
Wherewith, my Soule remained satisfide,
And drew her selfe from these wild Contemplations,
(Which, elfe perhaps, had carried her aside
From better, and from safer meditations.)
Then, from all outward Noyses, to be free,
Into my Selfe, I further did retire;
Ev'n to that Closet, which is call'd in me,
The INNER-MAN, to seek out my Desire:
And, being there, enough I heard and saw,
To teach, to comfort, and to keep in awe.

For, then, my Heart, (which did before appeare
A little, narrow, lonely, darksome Roome)
Was filled with a Light, that shin'd so cleare,
And made the same so visible become;
That (looking inwardly) I saw distensions
So boundlesse, in their Width, their Depth, and Height,
That, weighing well a fleshly Hearts dimensions,
It might be thought an admirable sight.
For, were you on that mountaine, or high cliffe,
Whence you might farthest round about you see,
(Suppose it were the famous Tenariffe)
The Prospects, there, to those that In-ward bee,
To me, no more to be compar'd, appeares
Than that within a Nut-shell, to the Spheares.

It shewes a Place (if Place we call it may)
Within the Concave of whose wondrous Orb,
The Eye of Contemplation may survay
Sights, which no Bounds, or Shaddowes, do disturb.

There, may be seene the meanes which doth disclose,
Though not the Essence of Eternall-things,
So much at least, as ev'ry notion showes,
From whence, beleefe of their true Being springs.
There, may the Soule that hideous Downefall see,
Which leadeth to the brinck of Desperation:
There, may that Entrance plainly viewed be,
Which guideth to a blessed Exaltation:
And, there, the Spirit, to our knowledge, brings
The Good and Ill, of all created things.

For, hitherto, I never heard of ought
In Heav'n, or Earth, but I perceiv'd it there:
Yea, many Novelties from thence are brought,
Which have no Being, any other where.
It is indeed, another World within
The World without me; and I thither go,
When I to loath externall things begin,
And, doubtfull am, what in this World, to do.
I sometime there have entertainments had,
Like those which may in Paradise be found:
Sometime againe, 'tis like a Chaos made,
Wherein deluding Fancies do abound.
Sometime, the Light of Heav'n there seems to dwell,
And, otherwhile, it is as dark as Hell.

Within our selves (as God vouchsafes his grace)
That Blisse, and that true happinesse is found,
Which men seek after in that Time and Place,
Which have not much relatiom to this ROVND:
I being thither guided (by that Light
Which faileth none) there, found out an abode
Quite out of hearing, and beyond the sight
Of those distractions, which I saw abroad.
There, found I out, a Resting place to hide me
From scorne of Fooles, and from the Strife of tongues:
From their despight, who slander and deride me;
From private mischiefes, and from publike wrongs;

From all the menaces, my eares have heard;
From all the perils, which my heart hath fear'd.

There, I with sportive sleightings, did peruse
That, which their malice, who these times do flatter,
Have spewed forth against my blamelesse Muse,
In lumps of scurrill, base, and witlesse matter:
And, am content to let the CVRS alone,
Though loud they snarle and bawle; because I find
Those Beasts are by their Masters tezed on;
And, do but bark, according to their kind.
Though not their wit, their malice might, perhaps,
Deserve a Rating; and, I could have flung them
A Bone, that would have broke, or gagg'd their chaps;
(Or, throwne the Wild-fires of my Brain among them)
But, they in vaine shall bark; in vaine they raile;
To scratch the Scabs, I scorne to foule my naile.

For, I, in that Retirement, seem'd no more
By such decrepit-Malice, to be hurt,
Than is a well compacted Rockie-shore,
On which, the Billows cast up Foame, and durt.
There, shewne I was, the high prerogatives,
(The priviledges) of my Second-birth;
And, from what noble Root, my Soule derives
Her Pedigree, though she be cloath'd with earth.
And, could I still (when I from Contemplation
Returne to Act) retaine in me that height
Of Spirit; and the reall estimation
Of that, wherein at those times, I delight:
I never more, an earthly hope should cherish,
Or, prize the honours, of the Beasts that perish.

There, on a Throne, above the world I sate,
Beholding, with disdaine, Terrestriall things;
The fruitlesse love of Mortals, and their hate,
The Tyrannies of Subjects, and of Kings.
There, I beheld (without those perturbations,
Which vexed me abroad) how Pride and Folly

Support each other, by their combinations,
In wicked projects, and in works unholy.
There, spi'd I, by what secret Links and Ties,
The cursed-Counsell which deludes the King,
And, that false-pack which in our bosome lies,
Their dark Designes together closely bring:
And why so many moneths in vain are spent,
Their treacheries and treasons, to prevent.

There, can I sit obscur'd, and spie what ends
Are closely follow'd by the Politician;
Who, seemingly, the common-Cause befriends,
That he may ruine it, without suspition.
There, I descrie, what avarice, what frauds,
What spight, and what hypocrisie doth lurk
In many, whom the publike-Voice applauds,
As faithfull men, in carrying on the Work.
Without distemper, there, I think upon
Their pride and envie, who had rather see
Three Kingdomes universally undone,
Then, wained from their wilfulnesse to be:
Because, I know, GODS Worke will be effected,
In spight of what their madnesse hath projected.

There, without breach of Patience, I can heed,
How impudently some have sought to seem
Of eminent desert; who are indeed
More worthy of contempt, then of esteem:
How quaintly other-some can mischief do;
And then, by policie, and frauds contrive
To purchase thanks, and pay, and favour too,
For that, which, rather, should a halter have.
Yea, there, without offence, I notice take
How zealously Malignants are befriended;
How sleight account of their deserts we make,
Who have, with life, and goods, the State defended:
And, with what confidence, we still confide
On those, that will be true to neither side.

There, likewise, without wrath, I view, and heare
How senslesse many, who are counted wise,
Both of advantages, and dangers are,
Which ev'ry day appear before our eyes.
How needlesse good Advice, by some, is thought
Till 'tis too late; how, to prevent a Wound
They lose a life; and, (to be thriftie thought)
How, they to save a groat, mispend a pound.
How desp'rately they somtime take a Fall,
To scape a Slip; how, other while, to save
Some Rotten-Members, they adventure all
Which we by Grace, or Natures Charters have.
All this, in my Retirements, I can see,
Yet, nothing vexeth, or affrigheth me.

For, therewithall, such meanes appear to show
That both the good Endeavours of our Friends,
And all the Counterminings of the Foe,
Shall work out that, at last, which GOD intends:
And, that, if we contented can become
To beare our Burthens, but a little longer,
His Grace, will render them, lesse troublesome,
Or make us, to sustaine them, daily stronger.
Wherewith well pleas'd, I totally resign'd
My Will to his; And, by that Resignation,
Delightfull Calmes within my heart did finde,
So freeing me, from former perturbation,
That, all within, and all without me, kept
Such silence, as if all the world had slept.

As at high Midnight in a Desert Vale,
Or'e-hung and bordred by a Double-Hill,
On which there blowes not any whistling-gale,
Down which, there flowes not any murm'ring Rill,
Near which, nor Bird doth sing, nor Beast doth play,
Through which, no Travailer doth ever passe;
By which, there growes no rusling leafe or spray,
In which, no noise of Creature ever was;

Such seem'd that Calme, which, then, I did possesse,
(Or deeper, if it might a deeper be)
And, that the Silence, which I now expresse,
May not prove empty both to You, and Me,
In this Retreat, from ev'ry other noise,
As from a farre, to me there came a VOICE.

A VOICE there came; From whence, I will not say:
Judge yee, to whom I shall report the same;
For, if you mark the sense, conceive you may
Aswell as I, from whom and whence it came.
So still a VOICE it was, that with mine Eare,
I heard it not; nor made it such a noise
As that, which our corporeall sence doth hear;
Nor was it an articulated VOICE:
But, such a VOICE as when the Spirit brings
A Message down from GOD; and, to the heart
Doth whisper those intelligible things,
Which words do but imperfectly impart;
Or, such a VOICE, as from GODS written Word,
The Genuine sense well heeded, may afford.

And yet it spake so plainly, and did shew
Those Informations which I gain'd thereby,
In ev'ry Circumstance, to be so true,
That of no branch thereof, misdoubt have I.
Thus, it began. Thou Off-spring of the earth,
Whom Providence designed, in this Nation
To have thy temp'rall Being; and thy Birth
In this Degree, and in this Generation:
Suppose not, that, in any worth of thine
There could a merit, or a motive be,
Which might Eternall-Providence incline,
To cast so gracious an aspect on thee,
As to descend so low, as to thy heart,
The knowledge of his pleasure, to impart.

For, from thy Childhood, he thy thoughts hath seen,
Heard all thy words, observed all thy waies;

Can tell how vaine thy youthfull years have been,
And, how thou hast defil'd thy elder-daies.
He knowes thy seeming vertues imperfections;
He saw what evill secretly thou didst;
And made thee likewise feel by due corrections,
That, he beheld what from the world thou hidst.
The Folly, Fraud, and falshood of thy heart;
The vices, and the vainnesse of thy tongue;
How false to others and thy selfe thou art,
How slow to good, how swift in doing wrong,
He truly knowes; and, findes thee apt to do
No dutie, but what he compells thee to.

And, he observed (though thy guilt he smothers)
That, thou to whom he better things hath taught,
Art in those Crimes as deeply di'd as others,
Who on this Isle, these present Plagues have brought.
Observ'd he hath, how fondly thou hast striven
With Wordlings, in their lusts, to have a share;
Although, to thee, experiments were given,
What empty, and pernitious things they are.
Yea, with some indignation he discerned
That, madly, thou didst many times partake
In provocations, whereof thou hadst warned
This Land (even those thou vowedst to forsake)
And, that, with greedinesse thou hast pursu'd,
Those vanities that ought to be eschew'd.

Although thy heart inform'd thee, long agoe
(By an indubitable information)
That, all the services thou couldst bestow
Vpon the Minions of this Generation,
Should nothing profit thee: Thou, nerethelesse,
(Forgetting what was counsell'd, and resolved)
Didst fawne on some of them, in thy distresse;
And hadst, no doubt, thereby thy selfe involved
Within those Nets, which at their Boords are spred;
But, that, GOD did permit them to contemn

Thy honest Muses: who a plot had laid,
Into those vertues, to have flatter'd them,
Which they regard not: otherwise that Course
Which nothing better'd them, had made thee worse.

When thou hadst, in thy Poems, vice reproved,
He search'd thy heart; and saw it was not, then,
Meere love to vertue, whereby thou wert moved;
Or, that thou hadst lesse guilt then other men.
Somtime, that fickle bubble, Reputation,
Sometime that hope which thy vaine Fancie gives thee;
Sometime, applauses, sometimes, indignation,
Into a just reproofe of sinners drives thee.
Some other by-respects, oft wrought upon
Thy heart, to rouze up in thee an indeavour
In things, that seemed worthy to be done:
But, thy performances proceeded never
From that true love, and that sincere affection
Which thou didst owe to Him, and his perfection.

And, for these things, their mouths wide op'ned be,
Who seek to turn thy glory to thy shame:
Those witlesse Railers are let loose on thee,
Whom, in thy Measures, thou didst scorn to name.
For this, thou sufferest by the sharp despights
Of open-sinners: and much more, by farre,
Through those malicious, and proud Hypocrites,
Who kindled first, and still foment this warre.
For this, thou (who for others couldst espie
Conceal'd events) hast oft so blinded been
In matters of thine own, that what thine eye
Seem'd fixed on, thy wit hath over-seen;
Till, to thy mind, they through those meanes were brought,
By which each Foole, and ev'ry child is taught.

For this, wert thou deservedly depriv'd
Of blessings, which thou els mightst have enjoy'd:
And, for that cause, hast worthily surviv'd,
To see thy hopes, with other mens, destroy'd,

For this, thou (with the first) hast plundred bin;
For this, thou both by Friends and Foes art torn;
For this, where thou hadst hopes, respects to win,
Instead of honour, thou reproach hast born:
For this, thy best endeavours have been crost,
By them, whose power could els no spite have done thee;
For this, those paines, and those designes are lost,
Which otherwise had great advantage won thee;
And, but that whom GOD loves, he leaveth never,
For this, rejected thou hadst been for ever.

Yet such is his compassion, that his love
Still seeks to reingage thee by his graces;
Beholding thee with favour from above,
In wants, in suffrings, in all times and places,
According to thy trust in him reposed,
(When thy Remembrances did first appeare)
As with a wall of brasse he thee inclosed,
From those who at thy Muse inraged were.
The Prelates and the Nobles, who conspired
To ruine thee, and thereto did comply,
Obtain'd no power to act what they desired,
Though open to their fury thou didst lie;
Although some suffred, then, (for milder lines)
By Stygmatizings, Banishment, and Fines.

When thou wert grasped in that Dragons pawes,
Who sought thy spoil; GOD, strangely charm'd his rage:
He from devouring thee restrain'd his Jawes,
Even while he rav'd, and storm'd at thy presage.
Yea, whereas thou didst imprecate on those,
Who should malitiously thy lines defame,
(And without penitence their Truth oppose)
A Publike Marke, to brand them for the same;
Ev'n so it came to passe: For, scarcely one
Of those Oppressers are at this day free
From having those just Censures undergone
By which, the publike-Foes, now marked be;

And, to the chief of them, this mark GOD gave,
That, He with shame, went headlesse to his grave.

In all the changes of this toylsome life,
He kept thee with an honest Reputation.
He, was thy comfort still, in times of griefe,
In dangers, he hath been thy preservation.
He sav'd thee from the furioust Pestilence
That ever in this Clymate did appear;
And, hitherto, hath by his Providence,
Secur'd thee from the Sword, yet raging here.
Now, when they lack, who surfeted of late;
When Bread, with men more worthie, groweth scant,
(Yea, though the Foe hath spoiled thy estate)
He keepes thy family, from pinching want;
And makes thee hopefull, whatsoere betide,
That, he for thee and thine will still provide.

Moreover, when thy patience was nigh tir'd;
When thy estate, the world did most despise;
GOD gave thee that which most thy heart desir'd,
(And, of all things terrestriall, most hath priz'd)
He, likewise, hath preserv'd thee to behold
Those things, in thine own life-time verifide,
Which seem'd as dreames, when first by thee fore-told;
Which fooles did sleight, and wiser men deride.
And, not thus only, was he pleas'd to do;
But, now, hath also call'd thee, to prepare
The Way of Peace, and, to reveale unto
These British Isles, what those Conditions are,
Whereon, it is his pleasure to return
That Blessing to them, for which, yet they mourne.

It is not for thy sake, that, now, his eyes
He fixeth, not on persons eminent;
Or, hath not chosen one more learn'd and wise,
By whom, this weighty Message might be sent:
But, rather, to abase and vex their pride
Who carnall Pompe, and outward showes adore,

(Vouchsafing scarce to turn their eye aside,
To heed the suits, or counsells of the poore)
And, that (to humble them) they may be faine
Perforce, to hear, and to accept from him,
(Whose guifts and perfon, most of them disdaine)
The Way of Peace, which he shall offer them;
Or else, through pride, grow hardned in that sin,
Which bringeth Desolation faster in.

This is the Course, which Providence hath took
When selfe-conceit, and sin, befooleth Nations;
And Carnall policie, doth over-look
The lowly meanes, of timely preservations.
Thus, that the Jewish-pride he down might bring,
When they the pompe of heathenish-Kings affected,
He made, one Seeking-Asses, their first King;
And, them unto a Shepheard, next, subjected.
When their proud Pharisees, and Priests, beleeved,
That He, who came the Kingdom to restore,
Should from their power and wisdom have received
Chiefe aid thereto; he rais'd it by the poor.
From their formalities, his eyes he turn'd,
And chose the meek-ones, whom their pride had scorn'd.

And, GOD thus dealeth still, when he intends
To purge a People, and refine a State;
Making one motion, move to sev'rall ends,
As it to sundrie Objects may relate.
Who should have thought, that saw a while ago
The Prelacie in pompe (advancing thorow
This potent Isle) it should be baffled so
In height of all it pride, at Edenborough?
Who could have then supposed, that a Stoole,
Flung by a sillie woman, in her zeal,
(When policie did labour to befoole
Your brethren, and the Dragons wound to heale)
Should have, in thousands, kindled such a flame
Of zeale, as from that meane occasion came?

Who would have thought the late despised Scot,
(A Nation, whom your elders dis-esteem'd,
A Nation, whom your Fathers loved not,
And, of whose friendship, carelesse you have seem'd)
Should first have rouz'd, a passage to have broke
Through that Attempt; which, will (if unrepented
And wilfull sins obstruct not) breake that yoke
Which Heresie and Tyranny invented?
Who would have been perswaded, but erewhile,
The Scot should faithfully for you have kept
Your nigh-lost footing in the Irish Ile?
And, while the Flame into their borders crept,
Should, brother-like, contribute their chiefe powers,
To quench the Burnings, which your Towns devours?

Or, who would have beleeved (having heard
The scandals, and malignant jealousies,
Wherewith some do their love, yet, mis-reward)
That Scotland should for Englands aid arise,
And in their marches through your fruitfull lands,
More conscience make, than you your selves have shown,
Of laying violent, and griping hands,
On them, whose wounds and losses are your own?
But, GOD is pleas'd these things should come to passe,
To humble and abase that high conceit,
Which falsly of your selves admitted was;
And, that both you and they might have a sight
Of his great Providence, in so proceeding;
And, Good, and Bad, confesse it merits heeding.

For, by this course, he doth effect his will
Within them, by them, and upon them too.
Both Friends and Foes, all actions good or ill,
Promote the work which he intends to do.
They, who, long time, have wilfully persisted
In crooked paths, from which they call'd have bin,
And, in those Calls, the Spirits Voyce resisted,
(Or carelesly proceeded in their sin)

Shall (blind with malice, and obdur'd with pride)
Sleight all the counsels, tendred now by thee:
The Tenour of this VOICE, they shall deride,
And, madly, stubborne in their Courses be,
Till on their heads, those judgements down shall come,
Which are an unrepentant Sinners doome.

And, when with plagues deserved they are stung,
(In stead of Penitence, or filiall awe)
As doth a Dog at whom a stone is flung,
So they shall snarle, and so the weapon gnaw.
Or, rather, as it was fore-told of those,
For whom, GOD, his fifth Violl should prepare,
The greater, still, their feare or torment growes,
The lesse to be reform'd will those men care.
They (to the Throne and Kingdome of the BEAST
True Vassals being) will GODS name blaspheme;
Or, else be stupified, at the least,
When GOD with stripes, or counsells visits them.
To these, this VOICE, will no good Omen sing;
To these, no Peace, no Comfort, will it bring.

But, they who by their chastisements for sin,
Are humbled so, so school'd, and made so meeke,
As to admit that true repentance in,
Which makes them gladly, Truth, and Mercie seeke,
Ev'n they shall from this VOICE, receive content;
And not disdaine the Wine of consolation,
Though in an earthen Vessell it be sent;
But, take it with a thankfull acceptation.
And, if of these, that number found shall be,
For which, three wicked Kingdomes may be spar'd,
You shall from Ruine, once againe be free;
To shew the World, that, what few now regard,
Prevents more mischiefe, and more safetie brings,
Than potent Armies, Parlaments, and Kings.

For, Kings, and Parlaments, and Armies, too,
When crying sins in any Realme abound,

Advantage not, so much as they undo;
As, by a late experience, you have found.
A King you had, who was, at first, conceiv'd,
To pitie, and to pietie enclin'd;
(Such, he was really of thee beleev'd)
Yet, of those Vertues, now, small signes you find.
The Cup and Fornications of the WHORE,
Do seeme to have bewitcht his royall brest:
With bloudy sins, his Realmes are flowed o're,
(Defil'd with crimes, that cannot be exprest)
And, more in danger to be quite undone,
Than, ever since, a King first fill'd this Throne.

He takes a Course, which if pursu'd, will do him
More dammages than all his forraigne foes:
And all their malice could have brought unto him.
Yea, so improvident a path he goes,
As if by his Fore-fathers, or by Him,
Some sin had been committed, which hath shaken
His verie Throne, defac'd his Diadem,
And, for which, Vengeance must ere long be taken.
For, though he knowes the peoples griefes and feares,
Though sprawling in their bloud he sees them lying;
Though he beholds the flames about their eares,
And, in their deaths, his honour daily dying:
Yet, seemes he nothing to heare, know, or see,
Which for your safety, or his own may be.

The Royall-Pow'r, that should the Realme have guarded,
Is to the ruine thereof, mis-imploy'd;
The Perquisites, allow'd to have rewarded
Deserving-men, by Ruffians are enjoy'd.
The Dignities, ordain'd to have been placed
On them, whose deeds their noblenesse declar'd;
To Slaves are prostituted; and disgraced,
By being on Buffoones and Clownes conferr'd.
His Councell-Table was become a snare,
His Court, a Sanctuarie for Transgressors;

The Iudgement-Seats, were engines to prepare
Advantages, for Bribers and Oppressors:
The Soveraigne, from the Subject is estranged;
And Kingship into Tyranny, is changed.

But, though the King be partner in these crimes,
'Tis you, who have your selves, and him undone:
For, as Idolaters in former times,
First, made carv'd Images, of Wood and Stone,
(Perhaps, but meerly for Commemoration
Of some deceased Worthy) and, at last,
Improv'd it into sottish adoration;
So, Those, on whom the Government was plac'd,
(By prudent Counsell) Base men, by degrees
So idolized, and with flatteries
So long, in servile manner, bow'd their knees
To their Self-will; that, first, to tyrannize
The peoples blockishnesse, and basenesse brought them:
Yea, how to be Oppressors, they first taught them.

And, when Kings saw, the peoples foolishnesse
Did make themselves beleeve, that their owne Creature
Had therein, an inherent awfulnesse,
Advancing it above the humane nature;
They, quickly from that folly, and that feare,
Advantages assumed to improve
Their pow'rs: It made them greater to appeare;
And in a more Majestick Orb to move.
The slavish gestures, and the servile phrase
Long us'd in Court, did thereto so much add,
That, he who like a man, declares his cause,
Is judg'd unmannerly, or somwhat mad:
Nay, to that height the, Royall claime is brought,
That none, but Slaves, are now true Subjects thought.

A Parliament you have, which you obtained,
When you were most desirous to have had it;
You, thereunto a priviledge have gained,
Which, now, more fixt than formerly, hath made it.

The House of Peeres is of a party cleared,
Whom, leaning to your, Common-Foe you doubted;
Whose power you felt, whose policie you feared,
And, whom, long since, some gladly would have outed.
Yet had Corruption over-fill'd it so
With honour'd Titles, worne without deserts;
And, with so many, raised from below,
To sit on Princely Seats, with Slavish-hearts,
That, when your troubles well-nigh cur'd you thought,
Far greater mischieves, were upon you brought.

Your House of Commons, (though when first convented,
It fill'd you with a hopefull expectation)
Hath ev'ry way so truly represented,
The Common Constitution of this Nation;
That, little hitherto hath been effected
To mitigate your Feares, or settle Peace,
According to the issue you expected;
But, ev'ry day your sorrowes more increase.
So great an inundation of confusion
Is broken in upon you; that, in vaine
You hope or labour for a good conclusion,
Till GOD himselfe make up the Breach againe;
And, you (with more sincerity) confesse
Your Guilt, your Weaknesse, and your Foolishnesse.

Betwixt You, and your King, there is of late
A cursed Fire broke forth, whose raging flame
Each others ruine threatens, like to that
Which from Abimelech, and Shechem, came.
So damnable a Spirit of Contention
Is conjur'd up, that, his designes are brought
Past all those remedies, and that prevention
Which by the wit of mortalls can be wrought.
So madly, you each other do oppose,
That ev'ry one consults and acts in vaine:
What one reares up, another overthrowes;
What one destroyes, another builds again:

And nothing is the vulgar expectation
But ruine, if not utter Desolation.

For, crying-sins do gen'rally prevaile,
The Rules of Order, quite aside are laid:
The prudence of the Counsellour doth faile;
The honestest-Designes, are most gain-said;
The Grossest Falshood, soonest is believ'd;
His cause best speedes, who aimes at basest-ends,
The worst-Transgressour, shall be soon'st repriev'd;
The veriest Knave shall find the Lordliest friends:
And, when Foundations thus are overthrowne,
What can the Righteous do? what likely hope
Have Husbandmen, when all is over-growne
With Briars and Thornes, to reap a thriftie crop?
Or, what can by a Parliament be done,
Where all are with Corruption over-grown?

With Warlike Forces, too, now strongly arm'd
You do appear; and Martiall men abound,
As though each Township, Bee-hive-like had swarm'd,
And Horse, and Armes, sprung daily from the ground.
But, what have these availed, in regard
Of expectation? Nay, how multiplide
Are these afflictions, rather, (which you fear'd)
By their dissensions, insolence, or pride?
Your Treasures, Stocks, & Fields, they have nigh wasted,
Their avaritions fury to allay;
Yet, as if they had Pharoah's kine out-fasted,
So greedie, and so hungrie, still are they,
That, all the plenties of your peacefull years,
Will hardly quench that vast desire of theirs.

Want of sincerenesse in your chiefe Commanders,
Too much ambition, much respect of friends:
(Most men that hear this, know these are no slanders)
Fraud, Envie, Cowardice, or private-ends;
And, gen'rally defect of Discipline:
Or, (to be plaine) want of that honestie,

Which these Forth-breakings of the Wrath-divine
Hath, now, required in your Soulderie,
Have set licentiousnesse so much at large,
And made most Officers, presume upon
Such loosnesse; and so slackly to discharge
Their duties; that, you likely are to run,
By your owne Forces (as the matter goes)
Not much lesse hazard, than by open Foes.

Your Common men, (this will disparage none
Among you Martialists, that blamelesse are)
Have not in misdemeanours, been out-gone
By many, who the States opposers were.
They cheat, rob, lye, curse, sweare, blaspheme and rore,
They equally oppresse both Friend, and Foe;
They plunder, scoffe, insult, game, drink and whore,
And ev'rie day corrupt each other so;
That, if this plague continue but a while,
You and your King, so many Rogues will arme,
That, throughout ev'rie Township of this Ile,
This cursed brood of Lice will crawle and swarme,
Till they have quite devoured those that fed them;
And, pine in that starv'd Body, which first bred them.

For, though the highest honours temporarie,
On Souldiers are conferred, whose true worth,
Whose vertues in employments militarie,
With an illustrious candor shineth forth:
Though they, who to defend their Countries cause,
Themselves to death and dangers do expose,
(Observing duly, GODS and Natures Lawes,
Not only to their friends, but to their foes)
Though these, deserve all honours; no expression
Is full enough to make an illustration
Of their ignoble, and their base condition,
Who triumph in their Countries desolation:
And, as the raskall sort of Tinkers do,
Pretend to mend one hole, and then make two.

For, these foure yeares of Discord, have so changed,
The gentlenesse, already, of this Nation;
And, men and women are so far estranged,
From civill, to a barb'rous inclination:
They are so prone to mutinous disorders,
So forward in all mischievous projections,
So little mov'd with robberies or murthers,
And, so insensible of good Affections;
That, they whom you have arm'd for your defence,
Will shortly ruine you, unlesse preventions
Be interposed by that Providence,
Which frustates diabolicall intentions:
And therefore, now, Conditions are propounded,
On which, a Restauration may be grounded.

Yea, now, when Med'cines (that most soveraigne were
At other times) have multiply'd diseases:
When all your Policies quite routed are;
To intervene, a Timely-Mercie pleases.
Now, that your Armies, King, and Parliaments,
Which were your hopefulst meanes of preservation,
Are made, by Sin, imperfect Instruments,
And, leave these Iles almost in desperation:
Thou, shalt once more, to dis-respective men,
A Herald-extraordinarie be;
And, carrie them conditions, once agen,
Whereby they from these troubles may be free;
And, that those Angels which now smite these Lands,
From Desolation, may with-hold their hands.

Now, then, for Overtures of Peace provide;
Silence thy Trumpets, let thy Drums be still;
Furle up thy Colours, lay Commands aside,
Sheath up thy Sword, resume againe thy Quill;
And, make thou such an entrie on Record,
Of what thou intellectually dost heare,
That, to these present Times, it may afford
A legible Expresse, of what they are:

That, thereby, meek men may have information,
What humble service, and what sacrifice
May best promove that reconciliation,
Which will conclude these bloudy Tragedies;
And, that it may, by working upon some,
A Blessing, unto all these Isles, become.

To that intent, once more, thy selfe prepare,
To heare inraged Tyrants madly rave;
The envious to detract, the proud to jeer,
And Fooles to shew how little wit they have.
Prepare thy selfe, to suffer what disgrace
The spight of secret malice hath begun;
And, all those injuries, which, to thy face,
May, by an open enemy, be done.
And faulter not: but, plainly publish thou,
What is, and shall be spoken to thy heart;
That, if these will not, times to come may know,
By what good Spirit thou inspired art:
And, that men may, unto GOD's praise, confesse,
That, He, in Justice, is not mercilesse.

And be not sway'd by any by-respect
To King, or People, Persons, or Estates.
From uttering (to thy power) the full effect
Of whatsoever, now, this VOICE relates.
Nor be thou so presumptuous, as to add
One syllable (beyond what shall be true)
Through feare; or, that some profit may be had;
Lest thy vaine feares, and thy false hopes thou rue.
But, speak what truth shall whisper forth to thee,
In so impartiall, and so bold a straine,
That, to their soules, it may a terrour be,
Who still, in their impenitence remaine:
And, therewithall, those consolations bring,
Which make the meeke, and broken-hearted sing.

Feare neither Peeres, nor Commons, Friends, nor Foes,
So long as thou thy duty shalt performe;

Nor feare the threatnings or the frownes of those,
Who, at thy publishing this VOICE may storme,
For, of whatever they shall thee deprive,
Who, therewithall, are spitefully offended,
Thou for the same shalt seventie fold receive,
In life and death, by all good men befriended.
And, if by thy Detractors ought be spoke,
Which this thy warrantable dutie wrongs,
Their malice shall quite vanish into smoke,
And for the same, ten hundred thousand tongues
Shall censure them, who now mis-censure thee,
Ev'n while they are, and when they shall not bee.

The VOICE, here made a pause: For, though I had
My selfe, into my selfe retir'd, as far,
As a Retreat could possibly be made,
From things, that Bars to Contemplation are;
Yet, thither carried I so much about me,
Relating to the Flesh, which I have on me;
(And also to the World that is without me)
That she, with violence, broke in upon me;
And came so over-joy'd with fruitlesse newes
Of an approaching Treatie, and with hope
Of Peace thereby; that she disturb'd my Muse,
And brought those Revelations to a stop,
Of which, this Ile shall never heare againe,
Till she hath prov'd all other meanes in vaine.

Your wits, yee Politicians therefore trie,
Yee Mightie, thereunto your Forces joyne,
And you, that with a Formall-pietie,
Or morall-facings, your projections line.
Pursue your waies of Peace, till you are gone
So far, that you no forwarder can get;
And find, that when your wilfull course is done,
You, like wild-Bulls, lie tumbling in a net:
For, then, perhaps (though but a Mouse it were,
That gnaw'd the snare) your pride would be content,

The meanes of your deliverance to heare,
By whomesoere the Message shall be sent.
When that hour coms, the VOICE that spake before,
Will speak again; and, then Ile tell you more.

Meane-while, I purpose to returne unto
Those other under-takings, wherewithall
I am intrusted; or, those works to do,
For which, the Common-danger, first may call.
And since I ought not wholly to neglect,
Their private wants, who on my care depend,
I will be bold, a little, to respect
My own Affaires, which few men, yet, befriend;
Lest, e're I finish what I have begun,
I may incurre some sudden detriment;
Or, else, by my Oppressors, be undone.
For, he that makes no conscience to prevent
His private ruine, shall be seldom heard
In any publike matter, with regard.

LORD, by thy power (for, by thy power, alone,
Such Plagues are cur'd) recure us e're too late,
And, once again, in mercie, looke upon
This heart-sick, languishing, and dying State.
Once more be reconcil'd: (Once more at least)
To these distracted, these divided Lands,
Let that Preserving-Mercie be exprest,
On which, the safety of a Kingdome stands.
Abate those Earth-quakes, which have made unsteady
The Pillars of this Church and Common-wealth;
Disperse those Vapours, which have made us giddie;
Purge out those Humours, which impaire our health:
Support the Limbes, which must prevent our fall,
Cut off, those Members, which may ruine all.

And, give me Courage, Wisdome, Grace, and Pow'r,
So, to discerne thy Will; so, to expresse
What is inspir'd; and in so good an houre,
As, that it may prepare the Way of Peace.

THOV, that, by Babes, and Sucklings, dost restore
Decayed Strength; and, by dispised things,
Advance thy Kingdom, and thy Glory, more
Then by the Councells, and the Pow'rs of Kings:
So, make this VOICE to speak; so, make men heare;
That, both Times present, and the Times to come,
May love thy Mercies, and thy Judgements, feare,
Throughout these Islands, till the day of doome:
And, let this VOICE'S good effects be showne
Most clear in Him, by whom, thou mak'st it known.

The second Canto.

The VOICE and Muzings, hitherto exprest,
In me, so sad, so serious Thoughts had left,
And, stamped them so deep into my brest,
That, of it health, my Body they bereft:

And, e're my former strength could be renew'd
(Or those Affaires dispens'd with, which deny
To be, at will, delayed or pursu'd)
Three moneths of Relaxation passed by:
And, in that space, was op'ned such a Sluce
To Interruptions, discomposing so
My meditations; that, them to reduce
To their late temper, I had much adoe.
Oh GOD! from me, how fast good motions fly!
How long are they unborn! how soon they dy!

My heart, that is corrupt enough to know
What any wicked man can think or say,
Before my feet, began harsh rubs to throw,
And, cast great stumbling blocks orethwart my way.
When I had some remov'd, Loe, (with a jeere)
A thought within me said; If nothing else
But Vertue guides thy Pen, what needed here,
All that, which of thy Selfe, this Poem tells?
Why mention'st thou (as if thou wert afraid
Thy Readers knew not, or forgot the same)
What thou fore-toldst? what thou hast thought or said?
And what events on thy Predictions came?
And, in a Magisteriall-straine hast spoke,
As if thou for a Prophet wouldst be took?

Indeed, my Vanities, I find to be
More then enough, my Musings to expose
To mis-constructions; and, to bring on me
The sharp result of such like thoughts as those:
For, never could I fix my mind upon
GOD'S Work so closely, but, Charrs great or small,
Have still been therewith brought me to be done,
By those old Haglers, whom I live withall.
Ev'n in this Taske, (though GOD stands over me
With Fire, and Sword) such failings will appear,
And, so imperfect my endeavours bee,
That, much I grieve, to think how vain they are;

And feard, they had been but effects of pride,
Till thus, for me, another Thought replide.

GOD, pleased seemes, to make thy Vices do
Those duties, which thy Virtues leave undone.
And what though this may add (if it prove so)
Dishonour to thy self, so GOD have none?
If thou thy Thoughts, hast cloathed in such words,
And, them in such a dressing, forth shall send,
As best advantage to thy Selfe affords,
Why should it any other man offend?
Or, if thou addest ought for thine own praise,
Why should an envious Reader grudge the same,
Since Malice, and Dispight, have many waies,
To turn such empty Glories, to thy shame?
Or, why shouldst thou forbeare, if cause thou find,
To make thy words help fortifie thy mind?

Thine own expressions, are sometime the Charmes
Which waken thy Resolves that were asleep:
Thy Heart, the repetition of them warmes;
Thy Spirit from dejection they do keep.
The mentioning what GOD hath for thee done,
Or, what he hath inabled thee to do,
May to his glorie be insisted on;
And, otherwhile, to thy advantage too.
Why then, through Feare of witlesse Censurers,
(Or, of an ayrie scoffe, shouldst thou omit
Thy selfe to mention, or thine own affaires,
When thou (on good occasion) thinkst it fit?
Since, if thy Muses would be so confin'd,
They to themselues were traytors, or unkind.

And, to make voyd what shall well purpos'd be,
There intervene so many casualties,
By mis-conceiving, or mis-knowing thee,
Sometime, such Inconveniences arise,
As that, it may essentially advance
Thy Work in hand, if some few lines be spent,

To add, or to inlarge a circumstance,
Which captious men may think impertinent;
For, when the Matter moves not that respect,
Which is desir'd, perhaps, the Manner may:
And, if thou honestly thy hopes effect,
What though Fools think, that thou the Fool didst play?
Although harsh doomes, this age to thee affords,
The Times to come, will give thee better words.

Thus spake my Thoughts; But, little do I care
How I am judg'd, save only for their sake,
On whom those Verities, which I declare,
May thereby, more or lesse impression make.
The care I tooke, was how to hear again
The VOICE, which I conceiv'd had much to say,
That to this Islands peace doth appertaine;
If, what is councelled, men would obey.
For, well I saw, although unseen it was
By many, (and too well perceiv'd by some)
That such a Time, was well nigh come to passe,
As my preceding Canto, said should come,
Before, the VOICE I heard, the rest would say,
Of that, which was begun the other day.

Yea, I discovered them, on either side,
To be distracted and confounded, so,
By that which falshood, policie, and pride,
Selfe-will, and Avarice, hath brought them to;
That, I began to feele my selfe affraid,
Destruction might or'e-whelme this Generation,
Before there would be meanes to hear, that said,
Which may, perhaps, prevent our desolation.
Assoon therefore, as GOD to me restor'd
Decayed strength, and my infirmities,
Did Opportunities, and time afford,
I recompos'd my scatt'red faculties;
And, being then retir'd, and noise alaid,
The VOICE that spake before, thus, further said.

Come Weakling, fit thy soule, prepare thine eare,
Gird up thy loines, and set thy selfe apart,
That thou, the more intentively, mayst heare
What, shall be further spoken to thy heart.
That TREATY, now, is at a fruitlesse end
Which interrupted what I had to say:
That Hope, whereon so many did depend,
Is, like a faire bright Morning, past away
And, leaves you in a Cloud, that seemes to threat
A terrible tempestuous After-noone;
Which, you with many Feares, will round beset,
Before the Day of Triall, shall be done:
And, therefore, that which will be now declar'd,
May, peradventure, find the more regard.

You look for Peace, (and he who well can sing
That Song, deserveth highly to be priz'd)
But, who can thither such a blessing bring,
Where all Conditions of it are despis'd?
Or, what, as yet, have they to do with peace,
Whom these Corrections, move not to repent?
Whose Wickednesse, doth rather more increase,
Then seem abated, by their chastisement?
Who can expect, the fretting Corosives
Should be removed from your Fest'ring sore
Vntill the skillfull Surgeon first perceives,
It may, with healing salves be plaistred o're,
Vnlesse, he rather hath a minde to see
The patient ruined, then cur'd to be?

How few hast thou observ'd, whose former course
Is better'd by those Plagues, which now are on them?
How many, rather, do appear the worse?
And, to be more corrupt then thou hast known them?
In what perpetuall broiles are they involved,
Who, for the publike welfare, most endeavour?
How friendlesse are they, who are best resolved?
And, in good resolutions, dare persever?

How many, into Parties quicklie band
A questioned Malignant to protect?
How few men, for that Innocent, will stand,
Whom Malice doth accuse, or but suspect?
And who now lives, and loves the Common-Right,
Who suffers not some insolent despight?

Though most men see distractions hanging over
Their giddie heads; their Tragedie begun;
And, round about them, nothing can discover,
But universall Ruine drawing on;
Ambition, Malice, Avarice, and Pride,
Selfe-will, Selfe-love, Hypocrisie, and Guile,
As arrogantly still on horse-back ride,
As if no Plague had seized on this Isle.
This man for Place; that, striveth for Command;
Pretends the Publike-weale, but, seekes his Own;
And cares not, so he profit by the hand,
Though Law and Gospell too, be overthrown:
And, He that in defence of them doth come,
Findes furious Foes abroad, and worse at home.

In ev'rie Shire, in ev'rie Town and Citie,
The Kingdoms discords are epitomiz'd:
In everie Corporation, and Committee,
Some Engine for Division is deviz'd.
Occasions daily spring, each man ingaging,
To side with, or stand leaning, to some Faction,
And, by new quarrells, more and more enraging
Their Furie, to the heightning of Distraction.
An Emblem of which madnesse, he might draw,
Who saw, within an old thatch'd Barne on fire,
Poore beggars quarrelling for lousie straw,
(Or dunghill rags, new raked from the mire)
Who will nor heed their harmes, nor leave to brawl,
Vntill the Flames consume Rogues, Rags, and All.

How can calme Peace be timelie wooed thither.
Where men so brutish are in their dissentions,

And, where the meanes of knitting them together,
Are still occasions made of new contentions?
How can these Iles have Peace that are so vitious?
And, who have Factious Spirits rais'd in them,
As wilfully dispos'd, as those Seditious,
Who brought destruction on Hierusalem?
How can they looke for Peace, while they contrive
Designes, enlarging, still, their discontent?
While Policie, doth wedges daily drive,
Twixt ev'ry joynt, to make a curelesse rent?
And, while to mend the breaches of this Land
Ther's nothing brought, but pebble-stones and sand?

Who can unite again a Broken-bone,
Whose parted ends, are set the fromward way?
How long will oyle and water mix in One?
Or, things quite Opposite together stay?
There are betwixt you such Antipathies,
And such abhominatings of each other,
That, in no ordinarie Power it lies,
To knit you in a perfect League together:
And 'tis not possible, your fest'ring sores,
Should ever heal, while in them there is found
That putrified flesh, and rotten cores,
Which keep from closing, and from growing sound?
And which will suddenly break forth again,
Augmenting more your hazzard, and your pain?

How can these miserable Isles have Peace,
While Justice, nor Compassion find regard?
While they who should protect, do most oppresse?
Where sin scapes blame, and Virtue wants reward?
How can he hope for Peace, that would enjoy
His wish on any termes? And, for the Shade,
The Substance of that mercie quite destroy,
Which might by patient Industrie be had?
Or, how can he be worthy of that Blessing,
Who (knowing how much, lately it hath cost,

In bloud and Treasure) would the repossessing
Of that deare purchase, for a toy, have lost?
And, everlastingly, himselfe undo,
To satisfie his Lust, a yeare or two?

Who knoweth not, that much more dread you have,
Lest of Estate, or Person, you should lose
The loved Freedomes; then to be a Slave
To him, whose Tyranny, the Soule undoes?
For, to that end you Give, you Lend, you Pay;
To that intent, strict Covenants you make;
To that intent, you sometimes Fast and Pray;
To that intent, much Paines and Care you take.
Yea, many goodly things to that intent
You daily do, and many moe, intend:
But, your Peace-offrings, all in vaine are spent,
Till you direct them to their proper end;
And, till the Peace, for which your Suits you make,
Shall be desir'd for Truths, and Mercies sake.

Who sees not, that a Peace you now desire
For nought, but that you might againe enjoy
Your lusts; and, to those Vanities retire,
Wherein you did your former dayes employ?
Who seeth not, that, like to those Israelites,
Whom from th'Ægyptian Bondage GOD redeem'd,
You have the pleasing of your Appetites,
Much more than your Deliverer esteem'd?
Their Garlick, and their Flesh-pots left behind,
They thought on more, than on that Servitude,
From which they came; and, more than they did mind,
Those Wonders, and that Mercie, which GOD shew'd:
And, you have acted, as in imitation
Of that perverse, and foolish generation.

You have forgot, already, to what height
Of Tyranny and Pride, the Court was rear'd;
What Projects for Oppression, were in sight;
What Injuries you felt, and what you fear'd.

You seeme to have forgot, to what degree
Of Insolence the Prelacie was come:
How, generally, you began to be
Bewitched, by the Sorceries of Rome.
You, have not so observed, as you ought,
How neare, unto a helplesse overthrow,
You (by your Foes confederacies) were brought,
Before their purpose did apparant grow;
Nay, you yet heed not, what will soone betide,
If, now, from good-beginnings back you slide.

But, as afore-said, like the sottish Iewes,
(Who, of the Humane-nature, and of You,
Are perfect Types) GODS favours you abuse;
And, so, your owne Inventions, you pursue.
Though like their Fierie-pillar, and their Cloud,
A speciall Providence hath been your Guard;
An unbeleeving heart, your deeds have show'd;
And, you of ev'rie Bug-beare are afeard.
Like them (ev'n while the Law to you is giving,
And all this Iland, like Mount Sinai smokes)
New Worships, and new GODS you are contriving;
Like them, you sleight his Benefits, and strokes;
And, in your Provocations, are as daring,
While he is Rest and Peace, for you preparing.

So, you forget, how great your Bondage was,
And whereunto you fear'd it might encrease;
So, those great Marvailes you still over-passe,
Which GOD hath wrought, to perfect your release:
So, when by some new Streight, your Faith he tries,
You wish that in your Bondage, you had staid:
So, your Deliverers, you scandalize;
As if by them, your Freedomes were betray'd:
So, murmure you, when any thing you lack;
So, you, despaire, when carnall props decay;
So, ev'rie difficultie turnes you back,
And stands like Seas, and Gyants in your way:

And, so, through mis-beleefe, your selves deprive
Of Blessings, which your Children shall receive.

And, thus it comes to passe, because, like them
You are a stupid and a foolish Nation,
Who your Deliverances do contemne;
And, are like them, without consideration.
Else, grudge you would not, for that, you are more
Imbroyl'd by seeking to preserve your due,
And put to greater charges, than before
Your Vindication you did first pursue:
For, Prudent men, will while they are at ease,
Be willingly made sick; and beare the cost
Of Physick, for the cure of that disease,
Through which, ere long, their lives might else be lost:
Yea, ev'rie rustick Seed-man, sowes in hope,
(Advent'ring much) e're he receives a crop.

You justly might suppose, that Patients wit
Much craz'd, that when good physick works upon him,
Straight wisheth, he had never taken it;
Cries out, that his Physitians have undone him;
Because, they made him sick, e're he was so:
Drinks, eats, and acts, both what and when he will;
Yea, thereby makes himselfe more sick to grow,
And causes that which would have cur'd, to kill.
Yet, this is your condition: and, if, now,
In this distemper'd, and untoward plight,
Your kind Physitian had deserted you,
(As for your peevishnesse, he justly might)
Your labours past, and those you shall bestow,
Will prove like Arrowes, from a warped Bow.

You mark not, what great wonders God hath wrought,
To move your hardned Pharaohs to relent;
And that from slaveries, you might be brought,
Nor heed you, what your Foes, for you invent.
A thousand things, unthought on, you let go,
Of consequence, which wrought for you have bin,

Since your Deliverer began to show
An Outlet, from the Bondage you were in.
As, in what dreadfull manner, in one place,
He seized by an unseen-messenger,
A bold Transgressor (who so daring was,
As to provoke the Devill to appeare)
And, smoth'red him in loathsome smoke and stink,
Whilst he presum'd blasphemous healths to drink.

You do not mark, how oftentimes the Plot,
Against you layd, hath crossed been by Him,
When, else, you had no knowledge thereof got;
Nor, to prevent it, either Pow'r, or Time.
You have not memorized, as you ought,
How, GOD himselfe, when your own strength did faile,
For you, against your Enemies hath fought;
And made you conquer, when they did prevaile.
How wondrously, a Remnant, for a Seed,
In Ireland, he preserves: how oft from spoile,
Your Garrisons and Armies, he hath freed,
When they have been in hazard of a foile:
Nor do you mind, how oft, him thank you may,
For saving, what, you would have fool'd away.

You ponder not, how often he hath sav'd,
Where no Salvation was; how neare at hand,
He still was found, when you protection crav'd;
And, when destruction over-hung the Land.
You have not heeded, how the Saplesse-brest
Of wither'd Age, (when raging crueltie
The child of murth'red Parents had distrest)
Did wonderfully, thereto milk supply:
Nor, for how many thousand Families,
He food provides, whom War hath quite undone:
Nor, how his Grace restraines their Poverties,
From Outrage, whereinto they else had run;
And which, ere long, attempted you will see,
Vnlesse more Iust, and Mercifull you bee.

You, hardly yet believe, that, in conclusion
The mischiefs, by your Adversaries done,
Must be the Ground-worke of their own confusion;
Or, that your Peace is by this War begun.
You mark not, that when first the sottish Dane,
Preparing was, your causlesse Foes to aid,
GOD, then, to call him to account began,
For all that bloud whereon his Throne was laid:
Nor how, ev'n then, GOD fastned in his nose
The Swedish-hooke, and found him work at home,
To shew, that He of Princes doth dispose;
And, what of wilfull-Tyrants will become,
Though, by permission, for a while, they may
The Fooles, or Mad-men, on their stages play.

You mark not, with such thankfull observations,
As would become you, that, GOD's providence,
(Though you are threatned by some other Nations)
Hath (by ingagements) kept them yet, from hence.
And many other things unheeded are,
Which must consid'red be, ere you aright
Your hearts, and your affections can prepare,
For such a Peace, as will be worth your sight.
Yea, many things must be repented too,
And much amended, ere you may expect,
That either swords, or words this work will do;
Or Blowes, or Treaties, bring your wisht effect.
The Peace of GOD you never can possesse,
But, by attonement, with the GOD of Peace.

You, by a Treaty, had a hope to see
A Peace concluded on. But how alas!
How possibly may that accomplisht be!
Till means is found to bring it well to passe?
The Mediums to that work, are wanting, yet,
By which, the Parties who at variance are,
Should reconcile; and they themselves have set
Too farre asunder, to be brought so neare.

There wants a Third, by whom they should unite:
For, most who are imploid as Instruments,
To joyne them, in Divisions take delight:
And, private-interests, that work prevents;
Because, when these, the way to Peace shall take,
Themselves obnoxious to the Lawes they make.

The chiefest outward-Instruments, whereby
To joyne a King and Subjects disunited,
Was wont to be that Christian Charity,
By which the neighb'ring Princes were invited
To mediate, and labour to compose
Their diff'rences. As first, by friendly words,
And prudent Arguments, perswading those
Who seem'd unjustly to have drawne their swords.
By threatnings, next: And, if nor argument,
Nor intercession, nor sharp menaces
Prevail'd; they then, to help the innocent,
As they inabled were, would somtimes please;
Lest, an unbounded, and usurped pow'r
Should all oppresse, and all at last devoure.

But you have no such hope; For, all the States,
And all the Kings and Princes, near, or farre,
Which were your Friends, and your Confederates,
Neglecters of this pious duty are.
The Swedes, the Germans, and those other Nations,
Who really compassionate your griefe,
Are so ingag'd, for their own preservations,
That, thence you neither can expect reliefe,
Nor means of an Attonement. From the Dane,
(Your old Oppressor) you long since, had found
What he resolv'd; unlesse, the Swede had tane
Occasion to imploy him in the Sound:
And, should the French, or Spaniard intercede,
Against their own Designments, they might plead.

Th'Vnited Netherlands, who to pursue
This dutie, are oblig'd, beyond them all,

And, who (unlesse they prove both false to you,
And to themselves) themselves remember shall:
Ev'n they have hitherto but only sent
Iobs comforters unto you: or, perchance
To practise here, some peece of complement,
Which they have newly learn'd from Spaine, or France:
Ot, else, to see a patterne of that Plague,
Which must, from hence, translated thither bee,
When they have quite forgotten their old league
With you, who spent your bloud, to set them free;
When they, in danger were to be enslav'd,
As you are now, and, for assistance crav'd.

Now, whether these are blinded by some sin
That cals for Vengeance; or, by some poore hope,
New works on this Iles ruines, to begin;
Or, whether Providence hath made that stop,
To frustrate such like meanes, that, you might flie
To him alone; it doth not yet appeare:
But, will ere long. Meanewhile, the certaintie
Of this, becometh manifestly cleare;
That, GOD suspendeth ev'rie help to Peace,
Which forraine Aid, or forraine intercession
Are like to add; and, suffers an encrease
Of jars at home, which threaten your perdition:
For, ev'rie thing essentiall to that blessing,
Are, well-nigh, taken out of your possession.

Most Circumstances, thereunto pertaining,
Are missing too. For, on th'one side, at least,
There's not so much as willingnesse remaining,
To further what they have in word, profest.
The Spheres in which they move, divert them from
A true Coujunction; and, from all Aspects,
From whence good Influences use to come,
Or, any lasting peaceable-effects.
It is destructive to their maine Designe,
And to their Principles, to make true Peace;

Or, with a faithfull purpose, to incline
To seek this Islands reall happinesse.
Nor should you think such purposes they had,
Till, in their course, you see them retrograde.

As soon shall he that Westward alway goes,
Meet him, that still an Eastward point doth steere,
As your two Factions firme together close,
Till they, in their chiefe-aimes, approach more neer:
For, th'one is bent, the other to inslave;
That other, is resolved to be free:
The Last, would keep what GOD and Nature gave;
The First, would seize, what ought not theirs to be.
And, these, from reconcilement are so farre,
That, all their kindnesse is but to betray:
When most they talk of Peace, they purpose Warre;
When they embrace, they meane to stab and slay:
And, when they make you think the Warre is done,
The greatest mischiefe will be but begun.

Beside, as yet, nor th'one, nor th'other side,
Nor King, nor People, Commoners, nor Peers,
Nor Flocks, nor Shepheards, have the course yet tride,
By which you can be saved from your feares.
A Treatie may complete it: But, before
You venture that, you must be fit to Treat.
For, then, the work were half-way done, and more:
And, till that be, no step you forward get.
In heat of quarrells, nothing done or spoke,
Can reconcile: a friends words move them not:
The more they talk, the more the peace is broke,
Till they their lost consid'ring-caps have got;
Till their hot bloud is cool'd, till rage is gone;
And, Reason doth examine them alone.

Then, peradventure, they with shame will view
Their oversights, their furiousnesse repent,
Distinguish Truths, from things that are untrue;
And, by that quarrell, future jarres prevent.

Thus likewise, when GOD, thereto saies Amen,
Your Disagreements here, shall have an end:
Your Discords will be then allaid agen,
And, he that's now a Foe, shall be a Friend.
But, you must find, before this can be done,
A Preparation, and a Ground-work laid,
(With such an alteration wrought upon
Your Hearrs) that Reason may be more obey'd:
GOD, make this Preparation; For, by none
But by himselfe, this work may now be done.

When you may hope a Treaty will prevaile,
Good Symptoms, you to usher it shall see;
Inducing you to hope it shall not faile:
And, for a tast, they such as these will be.
Both sides will to some Course themselves apply
That shall declare their hearts are growing-clean;
Themselves they will endeavour to deny;
Their tongues will nothing speake, but what they mean.
You shall perceive more Justice, to be showne;
More Charity among you will appear;
They will be meek, who to be proud were knowne;
Contentions will be fewer then they were;
And, they who on the Publike-Trust attend,
Will lesse abuse it, for their private end.

A Change, thus wrought; these Virtues, in a while,
Will every where, beget themselves esteem:
By their esteem the Fire-brands of this Jsle,
Will daily more abhominable seem:
That loathing of those Monsters will increase
The number of true Converts: By that number,
The growing of Malignancie will cease,
And Newters be awakened from their slumber:
By their awakening, such will be affraid
Who have not gone malitiously astray:
That Feare will quickly make them well apaid
To leave their standing, in the sinners way,

And, when these from that Station shall be gone,
It will bring scorne upon the Scorners Throne.

Thus, as at first, Malignancie was bred
By ill example, and mis-informations;
So, Good-affections, will revive and spread,
And strengthen by their changed Conversations.
Then, will arise a longing to be free
From your Imbroylments; with so true a sight
Of present mischiefs, and of what may be,
That, in the meanes of Peace, you will delight.
And, then, both Parties will be pleas'd to meet
On one set day, to fall with humblenesse,
For their foule bloudie sins, before GODS feet,
Whose Mercie, far exceedes their wickednesse;
And he, perhaps, will make that complement,
An earnest of your generall assent.

When such like inclinations do appear,
(Both parties moving on, in some such way,
As here is pointed at) they who draw neare
At first in generals, will every day,
Assent in some particular or other,
Till they who now so much divided be,
Shall lovingly unite again together,
And in one Discipline and Faith agree.
But, doubtlesse, not till they themselves deny,
And more forbeare, when they negotiate,
From seeking in their publike Agencie,
To serve and save themselves, before the State;
Whose weale, to all men should be dearer, far,
Then their estates, their lives, and honours are.

Nay, till both Parties do, at least, agree
In all those common principles, whereby
Humane Societie, preserv'd may be,
With Nations Rights, and Christian Libertie;
All Treaties will be mischeevous, or vaine,
To men adhering to the better Course:

For, by such Treatings, Polititians gaine
Advantages, to make your being worse.
Yea, by that meanes, these find occasions may
To gaine, or give intelligence; to make
New plots, and friends; to hasten or delay,
As cause requires; and, other wayes to take
For their availe, which els they had not got:
And which true honesty alloweth not.

Nor can, in any cause, a Treaty bring
More mischief then in your; till on each side
The Parties treating, are in ev'ry thing
(Thereto pertaining) rightly qualifi'd:
Because, when Forraigners alone are Foes,
Tis hard corrupting more then one or two;
Whereas, here want not multitudes of those,
That, willingly, their Countrey would undo.
Nay, some among you are so void of reason,
To buy their Traytorships; and other some,
By conscience, seem obliged to the treason:
And, these will to a Treatie never come,
To make true reconcilement; but, to gather
Advantages, for some new mischief, rather.

You are this way, and many other wayes,
Corrupted so, so false, and so unfit
For Peace desired; and for those assayes,
Whereby you may acquire that blessing, yet,
That you must cleansed be from that pollution
Which brought this curse upon you; and whereby
Those means are vainly put in execution,
Which might procure a blessed Vnity.
There is so little honesty among you,
And your discretion is become so small,
That they who most apparently do wrong you,
(And seek your Souls and Bodies to inthrall)
Have more incouragements, to help undo you,
Then they, who offer means of safety to you.

Instead of being linked fast, in one,
Against the common-Foe, you have permitted
That band of amity to be undone,
Whose preservation had these times befitted.
You, that in Fundamentalls do agree,
Are so divided about Circumstances,
(Which might, at better leisure, setled be)
That your Destroyers projects it advances:
And, if with speed you cement not the breaches,
That which (ere long) must thereupon ensue,
Experience (which the veriest ideots teaches;)
Will, to your greater sorrow, daily shew;
Till you of all, are by those foes despoil'd,
Whom you by good attonement might have foil'd.

You are a fickle, and inconstant Nation,
Your serious promises deserve no trust;
Your words are full of base dissimulation,
Your thoughts are vanity, your deeds unjust.
Your vertues are but few, your vices many;
Great is your Folly, and your Wisdome small;
Your Principles are such (if you have any)
That, from your best resolves you quickly fall.
With jealousies, each other you pursue;
You misbelieve, and find, as you believ'd:
You, nor to GOD, nor men continue true:
And, therefore, of much comfort are bereav'd,
Which by their friendship might have been possest,
Who keep to you, that Faith which they profest.

Betwixt you, and your Brethren of the North,
The seeds of Discord secretly are sown:
Much paine some take to make them tillow forth,
Dissentions coales in ev'ry place are thrown;
And these by Folly, and by Malice, too,
So wilfully are blown by either side,
So scattered, and tossed to and fro,
And so much fewell is to them appli'd;

That, if the patience of the Stottish-Nation
Exceed not Common-measure: If more true
They prove not to their Vowes, their Protestations,
And Christian-principles, than some of You,
A worse Division will betwixt you spring,
Than this, between the People and the King.

For, this will in another Age abate,
But, that, unless GODS grace prevent it shall,
Will grow into an everlasting hate,
Or, bring a speedy ruine on you all.
Now therefore, in both Nations, let those few
Who faithfull are, firme in their Faith abide.
Now, let them to their Principles be true;
Now, let the Patience of the Saints be tri'd.
His last great Batt'rie, ANTICHRIST now reares,
His deepest Mines, against you sinking be,
His pow'rfull Army, mustred now appeares,
His chiefest Cunning, now, employeth he.
Oh! let him not by Force your Strength dis-joyne,
Nor, by his fraud, your Counsels undermine.

But, let your Faith and Courage so prevaile,
That you may better Fixed-Stars appeare,
Than they, who daily by the Dragons-Taile,
Are smitten, or affrighted from their Spheare;
That, you may those Elected-Ones be found,
Who cannot by Deceivers, be deceiv'd;
That, with those Conquerours you may be crown'd,
Who shall not of their Garlands be bereav'd:
That, of the Kingdome, seizure you may take,
Which GOD, on Perseverers doth bestow;
And, not be shut from thence, by looking back,
When you have set your hands unto the plough.
In this Back-sliding, some already are:
Some, nearer to it, than they are aware.

For, so imprudent are Men discontent,
That, to avenge their personall neglects,

Complaints for private injuries, they vent
As Nationall-affronts, and dis-respects;
Whereas, it is apparent ev'rie day,
That, many members of each sev'rall Nation,
Do suffer, by their owne, as much as they,
In Person, in Estate, and Reputation:
And, that both Nations, mutually have showne,
(Vnlesse, perhaps, among the baser sort)
As loving a respect as to their owne,
And, therefore, let not Prudent-men retort
Mistaken wrongs; or quarrels be begun
'Twixt them, for that, which Fooles and Knaves have done.

Let not those jealousies, which were perchance
Devis'd by them, who in your spoiles delight,
Make you, imprudently, their ends advance,
And you, to their Advantage, dis-unite.
If some of them, discourtesies have showne,
To some of yours; or, injuries have done;
It is no more than you, unto your owne
Have offred oft, since first this War begun.
An Army cannot possibly be free
From all Injustice; and, yet, oftentimes
Ill-will, and men who dis-contented be,
Will make complaints, much larger than the crimes.
But cursed be their malice, and their tongues,
Who Nations would divide for private wrongs.

Your Fathers felt, and some of you have heard,
The Deadly-Fewds, betweene you heretofore;
Which, if your owne well-being you regard,
Would make you glad it might be so no more:
And entertaine, and cherish with all dearnesse,
The brotherly Affection, which that Nation
Hath late exprest; and with a true sincerenesse,
Be carefull of your mutuall preservation.
Yea, if the sons of Belial, and of Blindnesse,
On either Partie, rightly understood,

How greatly, to perpetuate this kindnesse
Between the Nations, it concernes their good,
(Ev'n in those outward things which they respect)
They would not your dis-union, so project.

Believe it, this is not the way to Peace,
But rather, to an never-ending war;
And likelier new troubles to increase
Then set a period unto those that are.
And, they who willingly shall tind such flames,
Or, wilfully foment them, merit well
To be esteem'd (to their perpetuall shames)
The Plagues of earth, and Fierbrands of hell.
For, of your Scottish-Brethren, wherefore, now,
Yee English-Britaines, are ye jealous growne,
Who have exprest more faithfulnesse to you,
Then you your selves, unto your selves have shown?
Or, wherein have they seemingly abus'd
Your trust, whereof, they may not be excus'd?

They would appeare to be confided in
With lesse distrust, if ever you had heard
On what conditions, they allur'd have bin
To be dishonourable, for reward.
For, when the Prelates-War had them constrain'd
To arme themselves against the superstitions
Intruded on them; when they had regain'd
Their Peace with honour, and on good conditions;
And, when your Army could have been content
Vnnat'rally (on promise of reward)
To turne their Swords upon this Parliament,
(And so had surely done, had they not fear'd
The Scots, then, on their Rear) they were the men
who kept you from the mischeef purpos'd then.

Had they been trustlesse; or, had aim'd at ends,
As base as many of your own have had;
Your Foe, e're this, had done what he intends:
And you and yours, perhaps, had slaves been made.

For, to allure them, four brave Northerne Shires
Should have annexed been to Scottish-ground:
To beare expences (and to pay Arreares)
A paune to be three hundred thousand pound
In Jewells, was design'd. York, should have had
The Soveraigne-Seat of royall-Residence;
The Scottish Generall, should have been made
The chiefe of both your Armies; and, the Prince
In Scotland, should have had his education;
All which, together, seem'd a strong temptation.

Yet, more was offred: For, to each Commander
Revenue, Office, yea, and Honour too
Was promis'd; and th'unvaluable plunder
Of London, to both Armies: What to do?
To force the Parliament, to make the King
A Monarch absolute; and you, and your,
Into perpetuall slavery to bring,
By an ill-gotten Arbitrary power.
But, these temptations, their brave minds abhor'd:
Of which their noblenesse, this VOICE shall be
An everlasting Trophee, and Record;
Wherein, these times, and times to come, shall see
How, yee to sale were offred; and, how these
Disdain'd to thrive, by base advantages.

If they be faithlesse, and you shall be true,
GOD, will with shame and vengeance send them home.
If, you unfaithfully your Vowes pursue,
Possessors of your Land they shall become.
In spight of all your policies and power,
Here, they shall settle; whither they were set,
To do the work of GOD (as well as your)
Who will requite the kindnesse you forget.
But, if without hypocrisie and guiles,
You, Brethren-like, shall strengthen one another,
In setting up his Throne, within these Isles,
By, and in whom, you seem, now, knit together;

Both, shall thereby, that happinesse enjoy,
Which all the powers on Earth, shall not destroy.

Look therefore, well about you, and persever
In your vow'd union: For, the maine designe
Is to divide you; and, to that indeavour
Your Foes, with all their Faculties combine.
Yea, and of such like projects, there are other,
Through levitie, or malice so promoted,
As if to ruine these three Realmes together,
It were almost unanimously voted.
No Chronicle hath showne; no age hath seen
An Empire so divided, and yet stand;
Or that a Nation so corrupt hath been,
Whose desolation was not near at hand.
And, if you shall escape it; be it knowne
To all now living, and that shall be borne,
A greater Mercie never was bestowne
On any Kingdome since a Crown was worne:
And that no Nations, who so much professe
In outward show, did ere deserve it lesse.

Although by vowes, and dutie you are tide,
Yet, you are carelesse in pursuing either;
And play at fast, and loose on ev'ry side,
Fair seeming friends to both, but, true to neither.
He, that's within your Covenants, and conceives
Himselfe ingaged, by those Obligations,
To bring to triall those whom he believes
Injurious to the safety of these Nations;
Oft into greater danger thereby falls,
Of secret mischiefs, of reproofs, or troubles,
Then they whom justly to account he calls:
And, by this meanes, your Foe his power doubles,
Takes courage, and accomplisheth his ends,
By making you to ruine your own friends.

'Tis, oft, more safe, to let the Commonweale
Be ruin'd, or betraid, then to oppose

A Traytor; or with freedome to reveale
That, which your vowes oblige you to disclose.
Your personall immunities, of late,
Are so insisted on, that many feare
The Publike-Priviledge to vindicate;
Least they Infringers of the first appeare.
And, if there be not some provisions made,
Whereby free-men their minds may freely say,
When probable suspitions they have had,
That some intrusted, do their trust betray,
Your Priviledged Persons, will advance
Their freedomes to the Publike hinderance.

Through some obstructions, your most noble Court
Which is the Sanctuary, whereunto
Oppressed men, by multitudes resort,
Yeelds lesse reliefe, then it had wont to do.
For, publike Greevances are so increast,
That, time and leasure, hardly can be gain'd,
To heare how men are privately opprest,
Till they are quite undone who have complain'd:
Beside (which in Committees oft is done)
By making friends, to come, or keep away,
Vnwarranted advantages are won,
To wrong the Truth, or Justice, to delay,
Thus, when the Peeres or Commons are but few,
A mischiefe unexpected may ensue.

For, when Reports or Motions should be made,
If they who make them will deceitfull prove,
Occasions doubtlesse, may be watch'd, and had,
Injurously both to report and move;
Since they who shall report (if to their choice
The times be left) may their designes propose,
And get it passed by a Major-Voice,
E're their appearing, who the same oppose.
Yea, 'tis nor hard nor strange to watch and wait,
A week or two, for such advantages,

And gaine a Vote for that by this deceit,
Which in a Full-Assembly would displease.
Thus, by mans wickednesse, a mischiefe springs,
From justest Courts, and from the noblest things.

And, if you soone returne not from your height,
Of Falshood and Injustice, that which was
Your Idoll (and the Glorie of your might)
Your hope of bringing mightie things to passe;
Ev'n, that shall also fail you, in the end:
That, shall augment your manifold vexations:
That, shall become unable to defend,
Or save it selfe, among your desperations.
Nay, that, shall by degrees it selfe corrupt
To such a Monster, as will fright you more,
More grieve, and more your quiet interrupt,
Than all oppressing Tyrants heretofore.
For, when in sinning, men presumptuous grow,
GOD makes their strength to be their overthrow.

It was not meerly in the Government
By Kingship, that you were opprest of late:
It was not that, which brought the Detriment
Dilacerating so, both Church and State.
The Princes errours, and the Peoples crimes,
(Increasing by their aiding of each other
In wickednesse) have made them, in these times,
A mutuall scourge; and both now smart together.
By godlesse counsells you misled your King:
Then kept him, standing in the sinners way:
And to the scorners throne him now you bring;
Whereon if once he settle (as he may,
If God prevent not) you, as yet, but see
Beginnings of those plagues that felt must be.

Vnlesse by penitence you break off fin,
Your Parliamentall Members (when long sitting,
And fewnesse of the number, shall bring in
Both meanes, and opportunity, begetting

Such knowledge of each other, as is now
In some Committees) shall much represent
The Lands Corruptions; and make perfect show
By whom, and from what body they were sent.
For, then on Priviledges to insist
Meer-personall, more then on Publike-Right:
To say their pleasures; and do what they lift,
In Lawes contempt, and Equities despight;
Shall grow in use, till you and they shall run
Another Course to be, yet, more undone.

You, then, shall see (though under other notions)
Your old Oppressions to return again:
As much false-play for profit and promotions,
As when you to your King, did first complain:
Then, you shall see your monstrous-high-Commission,
Your Councell-Table, your Star-Chamber too,
New-shapes assuming to their old Condition,
Revive, and act as they had wont to do.
That Insolence, that Pride Prelaticall,
Those corporall and ghostly Tyrannies,
Which in your Clergie lately had a fall,
Shall rise again, cloth'd with a new disguise,
And act, what they who plaid before did mean,
Although they change their Habits, and the Scœne.

For, then some Priestlings, who as guiltie are
Of your Divisions, as the Prelates-traine,
(First kindling, and fomenting, still, this warre,
As much as they) will make their meanings plaine.
Yea, by divisions, and by subdividing,
According as their maine designe requires,
Opposing some, and with some other siding,
(As best may serve to compasse their desires)
Shall Schismes, Sects, and Fancies multiply.
Beyond compute; and from the truth shall steal
So many hearts by fained sanctitie,
By counterfeited honestie and zeale,

That, all your other Foes shall not disease
Your private, and the publike Rest, like these.

For, (though enacted-Law, doth now of late
From Secular-employments them exclude)
To intermeddle with Affaires of State,
They will, by many meanes, themselves intrude.
By gath'ring Parties, they will plots contrive,
To make those greatest, who will them obey;
To make them rich, by whom they hope to thrive,
And to such ends will study, preach, and pray;
Joyne hands, sollicite, covenant, petition;
(The Publike-good, still their chiefe aime pretending)
And, whatsoever stands in opposition
To their Designe, shall want no such commending,
As floweth from implacable despite,
Or, from the malice of an Hypocrite.

And, if e're long, there be not some endeavour,
To keep them to their Calling, (and to bound
Their meddling with Lay-matters) you shall never
Be free from Faction, while the Spheres go round.
Like Salamanders, these can never live,
But in a Flame; nor, long themselves conforme
To any Reformation: For, they thrive
In Changes best, and swim best in a Storme.
And, many diffring Sects of these there are;
Some to an Independancie incline,
Some to a Presbyterian-way adhere;
Yet, really, themselves to neither joyne:
But, rather, take advantage to make use
Of that, which to their ends, may best conduce.

To limit these to some Parochiall Charge,
Were to imprison them: For, they well know
From Congregations gather'd up at large,
What Profits, and Advantages do flow.
A Parish Income, though they largely grant
Both Tythes and Pensions, is but verie small,

Compar'd to what that Priest itinerant,
Can gather up, who hath no bounds at all.
A Parish is too narrow for his Pride,
Or Avarice: And, in one place, perchance,
Should he be long compelled to reside,
He could not so conceale his ignorance,
Or cover failings in his Conversation,
As, by an Unconfined-Congregation.

Had these been regulated, and reduc'd,
To that Conformitie, which Reason would,
The Simple had not then been so seduc'd:
Nor, had the Common-People so been fool'd.
Had these, and their Antagonists been charm'd
By prudent Discipline, and made agree,
Your King and Parliament had not been arm'd
Against each other, as this day they be.
Had these been conjur'd downe; that Pietie,
That Prudent-meeknesse, and sweet Moderation,
By which a Part of that Fraternitie
Doth wrestle for a blessing on this Nation,
Should more be honour'd; and, ere long, prevaile,
For curing of those Plagues which they bewaile.

For, these, oft suffer the deserved blame
Of Demas and Diotrophes; and share,
(By being of their Calling) in their shame,
When of their Faults they no way guiltie are.
And, these, are they, whose Prayers and Examples,
Whose good advice, and whose well-temper'd Zeale
Shall keep your State, your Cities, and your Temples
From desolation, and your Plague-sore heale.
If therefore, Wit profane, or Scurrile tongue
Shall any of our censurings apply,
To do their worth or innocencie wrong,
Let it redound to their owne infamie:
Let ev'rie check, from which they shall be free,
An augmentation to their honour be.

And, let it not discourage them, a whit,
That, now, those temp'rall Dignities are gone,
Which, oft, in their possessors, pride beget,
And, really, are honour unto none;
Since, by their lives, and doctrines, they may more
Their Persons and their Callings dignifie,
Then Wealth and Titles have done, heretofore,
And, reach true honours highest pitch thereby:
For, who, when Prelacie did highest seem,
Were honour'd by the People, or the Peers,
With more unfain'd affection and esteem,
Then they are now, whom reall worth endeers?
Oh! let this honour still on them attend;
And, let their counsels move you to amend.

For, every one hath erred in his wayes;
King, Priest and People have alike misgone;
As doth the Flock, ev'n so the Shepheard strayes;
And, there is no man perfect, no not one.
It is not in the pow'r of words to tell,
How farre below esteeme your vertues are:
Or, how in wickednesse you would excell,
If wholly left, to your own selves, you were.
Could you but look into your hearts, and view
How many villanies those cavernes hide,
Beside all those, which words and deeds do shew,
Or, may by circumstances, be descride;
You could not but unfainedly confesse,
That you are, yet, uncapable of peace.

Could you permit your blinded eyes to heed,
How, while you smart, you multiply offence;
How, that, which awfull penitence should breed,
Hath changed errour, into impudence:
Could you perceive, before it were too late,
How fast you fell away, since you began
To faile in your professions to the State;
And, to be faithlesse, both to GOD, and Man;

You would abhorre your selves, and be affraid
Your soules, by transmigration, would ere long,
Passe into sottish Beasts: For, you have straid
Beyond that blockishnesse which is among
The noblest Brutes; and, hardly do escape
With so much of true manhood, as the shape.

There is no pittie of the Fatherlesse,
Or, of the poore afflicted Widdowes teares;
No charitable heed of their distresse,
Whose miserie, most evident appears.
They, who have gladly, lent, and spent, and given
Goods, Blood, and best-assistance, to defend
The Common-safety, (till they have been driven
To want of Bread) have hardly found a friend:
Some other, who oft hazzarded their lives,
For your protection (and have quite undone
Their dearest Children, and beloved Wives,
To do you service) have been look'd upon
Without regard; and worse, by far, have sped
Then they, who nothing have contributed.

Nay (would it were but so) their, and your Foes,
By your injustice, or your heedlesnesse,
Finde meanes to spatter, and to ruine those,
Whom, to defend, you did (with vowes) professe.
And (though their deeds have through this Isle proclaim'd
Their faithfulnesse) you gladly suffer them
By cunning whisperers, to be defam'd;
And, Falshoods words, Truths actions, to condemn
Before due trialls, you (through Avarice,
Or, Envie) with contentednesse, can heare
Desert traduc'd; and, with such prejudice,
Receive Detractions, as if glad you were,
Of such false Quittances, to make a show
Of having paid that debt which, yet, you owe.

It is, indeed, the Polititians way,
Thus, to requite: And, therefore, he that brings

Obligements, greater then discharge they may,
On thanklesse Nations, or on fathlesse Kings,
Instead of due reward, shall be repaid
With causlesse jealousies, and with suspect,
Of having either failed, or betraid
Their Trust, by falshood; or, by some neglect.
And, then, it must a Mercie be believ'd,
If He, for all the service he hath done,
(In lieu of what he thought to have receiv'd)
With life and losse of honour, may be gone:
And, this, will, now, the portions be of some
Whom better usage, better will become.

And, how can GOD have peace with such a Nation,
In which this basenesse, and this falshood lurks,
Which is rejected with much detestation
Among the brutish Salvages and Turks?
Or, how can you to other men be true,
Who to your selves are false, as may appear
By many practices, which you pursue,
Through wilfulnesse, through follie, or through feare?
For, whosoever tyranny defends,
And sets himselfe that Party to oppose
Which for the Publike Libertie contends,
Betrayeth his own person to his Foes:
Or (if perchance, his person free he saves)
Himselfe, in his Posterity inslaves.

Nay, you, who seem the better part to take,
Ev'n you, are to your selves, as false as they:
The Price of blood, a thing of nought you make,
And complement Advantages away.
Your Passes, and Protections, you bestow,
Not, as though to your safety they pertain'd;
But rather, your Authority to show,
Who gave them; Or, that profit might be gain'd
To Clarks, and Secretaries. And, your care
Is not, at all times, how you may supply

A place of Trust, with such as fathfull are;
Or, fittest for the States necessitie:
But, soonest they, those favours do obtain,
Who sell the Publike for their private gain.

Nor Ablenesse their duty to discharge,
Nor losse, nor suffrings, for the common Cause,
Nor of Integrity, good proofes at large,
Respect to such a mans preferment drawes:
Nay, he that by a generall assent
Was nominated, (and petition'd for)
Without his seeking, in the Parliament,
To services of Trust; and, which is more,
Had these imployments, also, recommended
By Order thence; hath, now, a year unheard
For answer, from those Referrees attended,
Without so much as hope of their regard:
Because, though to the Publike-weale it tends,
'Tis found it will disprofit private friends.

Your Indiscreet Indulgence, suffers those
Who loose their Bloud, and Liberties for you,
To lie in worse condition, then your Foes,
To whom an equall usage seemeth due.
Yea, while in loathsome dungeons, they remain,
Who captivated in your service were,
Sweet Lodgings and respect their Foes obtain,
When in your Quarters they imprison'd are.
By which unequallnesse, (till their side please
To show more mercy) much discouragement,
Your Partie findes; and, disadvantages
Which moderate severenesse might prevent:
And, you more Cruelty, then Mercie show,
When Mercy you on Cruell-men bestow.

He that to ruine you no spight hath spar'd,
If he submit, although but to deceive you,
Shall find more courtesie, and more regard,
Then he, who never left, nor meanes to leave you.

He, that with Outrage hath your townes embroil'd,
He, that hath in your bloud, his hands imbrew'd,
Your friends of their chiefe livelihood despoil'd,
And, to his utmost power, that course pursu'd:
He, if for favour (though constrain'd) he come,
Shall not alone finde meanes to set him free,
With his Possessions, for a triviall summe:
But also quickly countenanced be
With Friends, and Favours, him inabling, too,
Your faithful'st friends, and servants to undo.

False to your selves you are, in not assaying
To execute the fulnesse of your power,
In these Extremities; and, in delaying
To take those Freedomes which are justly your.
The Members of your Body wasted are;
And, such as are of that consumption glad,
(Vnlesse prevented) will the cure defer,
Vntill it cannot possibly be had.
By raising feares of some supposed-thing,
Which neither is, nor was, nor shall be done,
Vpon your selves, you many mischiefs bring,
Which by a prudent-Stoutnesse you may shun:
For, when you make an unexpected pawse,
You weaken your Assistants, and your Cause.

You act not out your parts, as if you thought,
A Tragedie in earnest, now, were plaid;
Or, that upon the Combat to be fought,
The Triall of your whole estates were laid:
For, to advance a frivolous designe,
To please a knave, that is a friend in show,
To feed some lust, whereto they do incline,
Or, shun the fury of a feared Foe;
Advantages you daily fool away,
Which by no humane pow'r can be recal'd;
Eternitie, you venture for a day,
And, when you might with brasse be double wal'd,

You seek to fortifie the Kingdomes Cause
With paper-works, with rotten sticks, and strawes.

Those Places and Imployments, whence arise
The greatest profit, rarely are confer'd,
With conscionable care of their supplies,
By faithfull men: but, thither are prefer'd
Those, rather, whose chief aimes are how to make
Their private Fortunes; and, to that effect
Know how to move; and how to give or take,
To gaine themselves advantage, and respect.
Yea, though there be suspitions, and perchance,
Good evidences too, that some of these
The Cause of your opposers, will advance
(When they an opportunitie may seize)
To Offices of Trust, you these commend,
Before your suffering and deserving Friend.

Who their estates have now increased most,
But, they who for the publike ventur'd least?
Whose paiments and preferments more are crost,
Then their, who (to their power) have serv'd you best?
In what Committees now, or in what Shires,
Are not, this day, a multitude of those,
Whose faithfulnesse undoubtedly appeares,
Disabled, and discourag'd, by their Foes?
How gen'rally do you in ev'ry place,
Begin, well-known Malignants, now, to trust
With your Affaires? And, suffer, with disgrace,
True Patriots from imployment to be thrust?
And, by this madnesse, how are you betraid?
How open to destruction are you laid?

They, who were first in Armes, for your defence;
Who, first, their Free-will-Offerings to you brought;
And have continu'd faithfull, ever since,
Ev'n they are now, unserviceable thought.
Contrariwise, they, who at first refused
To lend you aid, in Person, or in Pay,

They, who in word and deed, your cause abused
(And are unfaithfull to you to this day)
Ev'n they have now insinuated so
By helpe of their Protectors: And, of these
So over-confident you daily grow,
That your best friends, you ruine, and displease;
And, on your selves a greater hazzard bring,
Then all the armed Forces of the King.

For, those accursed Vipers, are with you,
So intermingled in your consultations,
(Nay, rather, so incorporated now,
In private, and in State negotiations)
That, by a miracle it must be done,
If any good Designe to passe be brought,
Or, for the publike-safetie be begun,
Which will not, e're performed, come to nought:
And, if you are not pleas'd to have it so
Why did you? and why do you still, permit,
Those men whom faultring (if not false) you know,
In Counsell, ev'ry day, with you to to sit?
And, why for those, do you your Friends neglect,
Vnlesse your own perdition you affect?

Why else when Forts, or Forces to command,
On which the Publike-safety much depends,
Do you commit them rather to their hand,
Whom neither proofe, nor likelihood, commends,
To such a Trust? Why not unto their care
And keeping rather, who have courage showne?
Of whose fidelitie, good proofes appear?
And whose experience hath been wel made known?
This could not be, but that you do preferre
Your sons, your nephewes, and your friends, before
The Publike-weale, or els perswaded are
That, your Destruction will afflict the more,
Vnlesse, your own devises help undo you;
Or, some who are both near, and deare unto you.

How can there be among you those foundations,
Whereon, your Peace or Safety, may erect,
While most men, for their own accommodations
Designments to the Publike losse, project?
And, while to compasse their desired ends,
They do not onely mischief, and delude
Themselves, their kindred, neighbourhood, and friends,
Or mis-inform the brainlesse multitude;
But, by their cunning, also do contrive
Those Engines, which good Discipline deface;
The State into unstable postures drive,
Raise jarres, and jealousies in every place;
And spread abroad the Devils Axioms too,
The unitie of Doctrine to undo.

These Engineers, your power infeeble more,
And weaken more your hands, then all yet done,
By other adversaries heretofore,
Since this unhappie Warfare first begun.
These, while to build among you they pretended,
As partners in the work of Reformation,
Have secretlie their private Aimes befriended,
With hindrance to your wished Restauration.
Sanballats, and Tobiahs, you have had,
Who, by dissembling with you, to unite
Have rent you from your selves; and, thereby made
Both Parties feel the common Foes despight;
To be each others whip, and make the Truth
A theame of scorne, in everie drunkards mouth.

There are so manie failings in the best,
Such needlesse, and such wilfull breach of Lawes;
So carelesse are you, of your Faith profest,
To those, who have been faithfull in your Cause;
So hath your Falshood, and your follie blended
Both right and wrong, both good and ill together,
That, both must be opposed or defended;
Or, els you must declare your selves for neither.

And (whether with the one, or t'other side
You shall partake, or for a Newter, stand)
No humane wisdom, can for you provide,
A being, with true safety, in this Land:
So little wit, hath ordered this Place,
So little honesty, so little grace.

And, these great mischeifs rose, from giving way
For every man, at pleasure, to deface
Those Out-works, which (though faultie) were a stay
Not uselesse, till some better came in place.
For, he that would prevent an inundation
(By false-built Sea-banks) lets not every one
Teare down the Piles, and breake the old Foundation,
Lest that which he would make, might be undone:
Nor for a Cobler, or a Fidler, sends;
But, men experienc'd in such works, doth call;
And, with such warinesse the fault amends,
That, no disaster may, mean-while, befall:
And, that the Old-worke, and the New-worke, may
Begin, and end together, in one day.

You thus proceeded not, but (with more heat
Then prudence, hurrying on) in hast, you tore
The wharfage down; ev'n while the floods did threat
To drowne the fields, and Billowes rent the shore.
The furious Souldier was, with commendation,
Permitted to reforme, as he thought fit;
(Forbidding or affording toleration,
According to the modell of his wit)
And, he that was not mad enough to run
Their wildgoose-chase, and set the world on fire,
To suffer by suspition, streight, begun;
And, forc'd was, from imployment to retire,
As not right principled, or drawne aside,
By Balaams wages; or, unsanctifi'd.

And, these Reformers, not enough content,
To carve out Discipline, as they shall please,

(And Doctrine too) will on the Government,
Vnlesse it be prevented, shortlie seize.
For, having no Foundation, like a feather,
Which from the bodie of a Fowle is torne.
They to and fro, are turn'd with everie weather;
Else, up and down, still wrestlesly are borne.
And, by these foolish Fires, ev'n as you see
By shining-vapours, rising in the night,
Mis-led from safe high-waies, poore people be,
To fall in Pits, and Ponds, by their false light;
So these, and other, have by their delusions,
Brought on these Nations, mischieves, and confusions.

And these confusions, not alone befall
The Civill State; but, have disord'red so
Your Discipline Ecclesiasticall,
That Church affaires, are out of order too.
Each one sets up their private Idoll, there.
That man, contends for this; this man, for that.
Some, would have new things; some, for old things are,
Some, would have somthing, but they know not what.
Some, care not what they have: and some there be,
That would have nothing, which might them confine,
In doing, or believing; but, live free
In ev'rie thing, a perfect Libertine.
And, most, in such a posture do appeare,
As if the Towre of Babell raising were.

Some, to no Congregation, will repaire,
In which their duties are extemporarie;
As if (because some call vaine bablings, praier)
No man possest that guift in ordinarie.
Some, do abhorre Set-Formes; as if they thought
The Spirit, whereby they were first indighted,
Dispis'd the words, which by it selfe were taught,
If more then once, though with true zeale recited.
Some, care not how GODS Fields are over-grown
With Briars, and Thornes; some others, are so strict,

That, for his Vineyards, they no place will owne,
But those, from whence all weeds, and stones, are pickt;
As if they, for a Church, allowed not,
What hath a scarre, a wrinkle, or a spot.

A Militarie-Church, was well exprest,
In ancient Hieroglyphicke, by the Moone;
To shew, that when her light was at the best,
(And when her brightest glorie she puts on)
Some shadowes, or some Waynings, will declare,
That, in this world, she hath not her perfection:
And, that the Sun, from whom her beauties are,
Conveigheth light unto her, by reflection.
Somtime, that Sun, doth hide his face away,
Lest men ascribe to Her, what is His due:
Somtime, her proper motions, her convey
Too high, or els, too farre, beyond the view
Of private-spirits: And, somtime, from sight
Earths Globe, and somtime Clouds, obscure her light.

Which, many, not consid'ring, are offended
Without a cause; and indiscreetly marre
That Beauty, which to polish they pretended;
And 'twixt her Members, raise intestine warre.
Some Weeds, and Corne, are in the blade so like,
That many Weeders have deceived bin;
And, oftentimes, good corne away do pick,
And make the crop, at harvest, very thin.
A spotlesse Church, or perfect Disciplines
Go seek at None-such: For, they are not found
In any place, between the Tropick-Lines,
Or any where, upon this earthly Round;
Though some have shaped modells, in their braine,
Of that, whereto, they never shall attaine.

On speculations, these have doted so,
(Which their own Fancies forme) that, they have lost
The Body of Religion; and let go
That Forme thereof, which must enshrine the Ghost.

And, he (who being in the flesh) believes
The soule of Worship can retained be,
Or known, without a Forme, himselfe deceives;
Yea others, with himselfe, deceiveth he:
And, wanders (restlesse) in perpetuall motion,
In quest of empty-shades; and to pursue
Each flitting dreame, and ev'ry changing Notion,
Which comes within his intellectuall view:
Till Pride, upon his Fantasie, begets
High thoughts of his own light, and in his brest
Stirres up, and kindles those distemper'd heats,
That keep the mind and body without rest;
And, then perchance, he to a meteor growes,
Which Fooles, to be a Starre, a while, suppose.

But, if you mark such well, their new-borne-blaze
Is quickly out; and you shall see, ere long,
Some Evills follow, whereof they were Cause
As well as Signes. And take you this, among
Your Notes; that, when your Marches furious be,
Like Jehu's, in Religions reformation;
(And so pursu'd, as if you said, Come see
Our zeale for GOD) that, but for ostentation,
Or, for your own advancements, you become
So zealous: and, that (when you execute
GOD's mandates, Jehu-like) you, for the same
Shall tast, of his false zeale, the bitter-fruit;
That, other men may learn, his will to do,
For his owne sake; and, with due meeknesse too.

No few disasters had prevented bin,
If in the Worke now doing, you had learn'd
With whether part, 'twas fittest to begin:
Which might in GOD's own works have been discern'd:
For, though this World, in worth inferiour be
To Man; and, though the Body be below
The soule, in value; yet, created He
The meanest of these first: And, that may show

How men should work. For, had Man been created
Before the World; or, had the Soule been made
Before the Body, where had they been seated,
To exercise the Faculties they had?
Though noblest works should first be thought upon,
Sometime, a meaner work should first be done.

A Common-wealths, blest being, doth depend
Vpon the Church: the Churches Reformation,
You, therefore, principally should intend:
And yet, your zeale may merit commendation,
Though to reforme the Civill-government
You first begin, and waive a while the other;
If there shall happen some such accident,
As hinders the reforming both together.
Else, peradventure, while you are contriving,
Your Forme of Discipline, there may begin
A mischiefe, not alone of Peace depriving,
But, of a Countrey to professe it in:
And, so, with you it hath almost succeeded;
Because, this freedome was not timely heeded.

For, had you tim'd, and ordered aright
The Civill-Part; and, therewith brought along
The Church-Affaires (as by degrees you might)
The Work had prov'd lesse grievous, and more strong.
Or, had true Prudencie directed Zeale
First, to reforme some things pertaining to
The safe well-being of the Common-weale;
Both, had not been, at once, distracted so.
And, yet, in this, the wisdome of the State
Deserves no check; but, rather, that Defection
Throughout the Land, which doth irregulate
The Works in hand, and keep them from perfection,
By multipli'd Obstructions; and, sometime,
By streightning, and necessitating them.

For, such is your corruption and your folly,
So false and hypocriticall you are;

So brutishly profane, and so unholy,
(Though you Religious-Nations would appeare)
That, had your temp'rall grievances been eas'd,
And all those Priviledges been secur'd,
For which, to be at cost, you yet are pleas'd,
(And many Deaths and dangers have endur'd)
Most would have hazarded nor life, nor limb,
Nor Goods nor paines, the Church to vindicate
From her enthralments; but, to sink or swim,
Had left her in a deplorable state:
And, therefore, GOD permitted the pursuit
Of Counsells, which have brought forth bitter fruit.

Ev'n as a Worldling, who hath spent his dayes
In carnall Pleasures; and hath partner bin
With lewd Companions, in their wicked wayes,
(And in the practice of each crying sin)
When he doth feele the stroke of some disease
Portending Death; and that the self-same houre
Those horrours on his conscience also seize,
Which threaten Soule and Body to devoure;
Desire of Life, and fearfulnesse to die
Distracts him so, that he at once for aid,
Both from Physitians, and Divines doth crie;
And, having both, becometh so dismaid,
That he receiveth benefit from neither:
But, hazards Soule and Body both together.

So, while you laboured at once to heale
The desperate Diseases, which of late
Endangered both Church and Common-weale;
Such longings, then, your double-zeale begate,
To cure them both together; and so strove
Your Zelots, that, from both at once, they mought
The Cause of their distemperatures remove,
That, great Confusions upon both, are brought:
Yea, both of them, are now exposed more
To scandals, losses, errours, perturbations,

And hazards of destruction, than before:
That, whether now you seek their preservations
Together or apart, you shall not, yet,
Obtaine that blessing, which you hope to get.

For, you must first be cleared of the sin,
Which hinders from enjoying your desire:
And, that which lately might have cleansed bin
With water, must be purged now with fire.
Yea, since your follies and your sins have brought
Those great Confusions both on Church and State,
For which the meanes, that might their cure have wrought,
Are now too feeble, and will come too late;
Since, into such a Chaos all is changed,
That, all endeavours usefull heretofore,
Have, daily, you from Concord, more estranged,
And made your mischiefes, and your sorrowes more,
No ordinary-course, can set you free
From those distractions, wherein, now, you be.

This, being knowne (and in what great distresse
You plunged are) to you it appertaines
With penitencie, humbly to addresse
Your suits to him, in whom your help remaines.
And ere you make approaches to his Throne,
There must be (as was told you) some purgation,
From those omissions, and those deeds mis-done,
Which make your prayers an abhomination.
The Zimri's and the Cosbi's of the time,
Of whose uncleannesse and whose impudence,
You talk of, yet, but as a Veniall crime,
Or, laugh at, as a triviall offence,
Must with more zeale (more speed) receive their due;
Or, else, their sins, GOD shall avenge on you.

For, these are so impure, that, in their Sin,
They are unsatisfi'd, unlesse the same
Hath with some circumstances acted bin,
Which proves them double-guiltie, without shame.

They are not pleas'd in Simple-Fornication,
Vnlesse thereto, Adulteries they add;
Nor seemes that, now, sufficient violation
Of Chastitie, unlesse, the Crime be made,
Yet more abhominable, by beguiling
Some Innocent; or else by (offring force)
The Bed of Honour, with bold vaunts defiling:
Nay, there is found among you (if not worse)
Vncleannesse more unmanly, and more strange;
Adult'ries by consent, and by exchange.

But, these are the defilements of your Peace,
Where yet they have not felt the rage of War;
Where, yet, the Course of Justice doth not cease,
And where great shewes of Pietie yet are.
And, if such impudence may there be found;
If there, you so corrupt already grow,
Oh! how do those Uncleannesses abound,
Where cruell Outrage her grim face doth show?
Sure words are insufficient to expresse
The Rapes, the Ravishments, and loathsome sins,
Where War gives way to all Vnrulinesse,
And Tyranny and Lust the conquest wins:
When sin and impudence is acted there,
Where Justice on her seats doth yet appeare.

Behold, this day, ev'n whilst with Desolation,
The Land is threatned, you have now let in,
A crying wickednesse, which to this Nation,
Was ever thought so hatefull to have bin;
That, though among the Jewes, a Law they had,
Inflicting Death upon it, you have none;
Because, a Law is verie rarely made,
Concerning things unlikely to be done.
Who would have thought, there being neither Beare,
Nor Wolfe, nor Lyon on your English ground,
To seize upon your little Children there,
That many Beasts and Monsters should be found,

In humane shape, to steale and beare away
Your Infants, whilst before your doores they play?

Who would have thought, that for so small a price,
So many, could so quickly have been got,
To joyne in perpetrating of a Vice,
So horrible, and yet abhor it not?
That, their hard hearts could heare poore Children crie
Vpon their fathers, or their mothers name,
Till, peradventure, in an agonie
Of extreme passion, livelesse they became.
Or (which is worse) preserv'd them, to be sent
To Bondage, whilst their Parents (almost wild)
Were left in everlasting discontent,
By musing, on their lost-beloved-child?
This Crueltie hath in your streets been seen;
Thus high, have your corruptions heightned been.

In these sad times, while GODS afflicting hand
Lies heavie on you, and with sword and fire,
Pursues, through ev'rie Corner of the Land;
And, reall Penitencie doth require.
In stead thereof, the People now begins
To grow more daring, and to practise crimes
(Beside the old, or Epidemick sins)
Which were unheard of here, in former times.
Blasphemous Heresie among you growes,
Like Sprouts at Spring-tide, from a new lopt tree:
And, so detestable, are some of those,
That, pious men afraid to name them be:
Lest they, who love the sinfulnesse of Sin,
Should, thereby, let such mischiefes further in.

Death, was the punishment, which for this crime
Was judged by the Law of Moses due;
And, well it would become you at this time,
That Law, among these Nations to renue.
And if you should observe, how little sense
Of Perjurie, men seeme to have of late;

And what bold use is made of that Offence,
To serve the will of Malice, and of hate;
Or, with what ease, Oppressours, thereby may,
(And sometimes do) not only ruinate
An honest Fame, but also take away,
As well their pretious lives, as an estate
From Innocents; Death, would not seem a Law
Too strict, to keep those Wicked ones, in awe.

The Land, through Oathes and Curses, also, mournes:
For, some have learn'd new oathes, and imprecations,
Not heard of heretofore; and, GOD returnes
On their owne heads, their wished-for Damnations.
In Cursings they delighted; and they soke
Like Oyle into their bones. They took a pride
In wishing Plagues; and, lo, as with a cloke
Therewith, now, wrapt they are on ev'rie side.
You lov'd not Blessings: but, when you enjoy'd
Peace, plentie, health, and safetie, you despis'd
Those Mercies; and behold, they are destroy'd,
That they, hereafter, may be better priz'd.
You, long have partners been in ev'rie sin,
And, now, each others Hang-men, you have bin.

When ev'rie neighb'ring house is in a flame,
You store your owne, as if no danger were.
In Honestie's, and in Religion's name,
You credit get; and publike Robbers are.
To lye, and to be perjur'd for the Cause
Of GOD, your King, or Countrey, is a gin
To catch Opinion; whereby, most, he drawes,
That is most bold, and impudent therein.
By some pretence, to benefit the State,
Religion to promote, or aid the King,
You colour your oppressions; slander, cheat,
And, put in practice almost any thing:
You, by a shew, the Gen'rall to preserve,
Particulars, unmercifully starve.

You wrong the meaning of your Parliament
When their estates you seize who are their Foes;
To their undoing, who are innocent,
And blamelesse, though the Creditors, of those.
And, were it our Designment to accuse
Particulars (as to informe and warne,
In gen'rall termes; that, they, who yet abuse
Their power, more humanitie might learn)
We could have instanced in many things,
Discov'ring, that, their number is not few,
Whose Crueltie, Reproach, and Curses, brings
On those Proceedings, which they did pursue
With Prudence, and with Mercie, should relieve
The Publike, more; and, private men, lesse grieve.

One part of you, contributes to the King;
The other Partie, to the Parliament:
To these, you personall assistance bring;
To these, you liberally your goods have lent:
Yet, most of you, who thus ingaged are,
Are both to King, and Parliament untrue:
For, many signes your faithlesnesse declare,
And many things your giddinesse doth shew.
You are most firme to that, which you conceive
Your private weal, or safety, best promotes:
While that is doubtfull, you, Demurs can weave;
When that is plaine, you quickly turne your Coats;
And, to that end, you craftily provide
Quaint shifts, to serve your turnes, on either side.

Some, by Intelligence, themselves indear;
Or, by some service acted under-hand.
By secret Favours, Friends you can prepare,
Who in the Gap, for you, at need shall stand.
Some, have a Son, a Father or a Brother,
Who Ledger with your Adverse-party, lies;
To make good Terms of Peace, for one another,
According as Occasions may arise.

And (to advance this Project) they, who spend
Their Blood, and Fortunes, with a single heart,
(Indeavouring truly for the noblest end)
Engaged are, to act a desp'rate part;
Which, into present mischiefs, them doth cast,
And, into feares of greater, at the last.

You, have not Faith enough, in GOD, to trust;
(Though, wonder-working Faith, you do pretend)
And, that, hath tempted you to things unjust:
That, makes you on your arme of flesh depend.
That, makes you bold, when you should rather feare;
And, fearfull grow, when you should bolder be:
That, makes your Foe so vigilant appeare;
And, you, so many things, to over-see.
That, makes you, for your Ayd, poor tricks devise,
And take that Course which Scandall on you draws:
That, makes you think, that false Reports, and Lies,
Are meritorious in an Honest-Cause:
And, by these failings, you your peace delay;
And justifie your foes, in their lewd way.

They, who abhorre Pluralities in other,
And in your Clergie hate non-residence;
Can, Office unto Office joyn together,
And, in themselves, suppose it no offence.
Some, can heap up Command, upon Command,
Share, or take all the honour, and the pay,
(When but for cyphers, nay for lesse they stand)
And other mens true value take away.
Some, when the Publike was in great distresse,
(Though they Commanded few, had pay for many)
Yea, some of you (who better minds professe)
Were paid for souldiers, when you had not any:
And, some have took, (who yet for payment call)
In Plunder and Free-quarter, more then all.

Of Orphans cries, and of the Widdowes tears,
Whose Fathers and whose Husbands for your sake,

Have spent their lives, and fortunes in these wars.
More heed, more care, more pitie, you must take.
When at your doores, and at your feet they lie,
To crave a part of that which is their own,
To feed them in their great necessity,
More Bowells of Compassion, must be showne.
And, they who, to contribute, have not spar'd
Paines, Councells, Prayers, Persons, nor Estates
In publike duties, must finde more regard,
Before the furie of this Plague abates:
For, who can hope the GOD of Righteousnesse,
Will shew forth mercie, to the mercilesse?

They, who in Peace, the blood of War have shed
As Ioab did; or, have expos'd their friends,
And faithfull souldiers, to be murthered
To hide their Plots, or to effect their Ends,
Must not be winked at: nor they, who dare
So partiall in their judgements to become,
As to inflict on those that equalls are
In their transgressions, an unequall-doome:
For, of this partiall dealing there is found,
A murmur in your streets: and, Common-fame
Reports, injustice so much to abound;
That, he speedes best, who merits greatest blame:
And, that, for sin, when Accessaries bleed,
The Principalls find favour, and are freed.

Your Beasts of prey, who live upon the spoile,
And, by the publike ruines, fat are growne,
Must either quite be chased from this Isle,
Or, from their dens, be rouz'd, and hunted down.
Your Ambodexters, who are neither true,
To GOD, nor Man, to King, nor Parliament,
Must learn a better temp'rature to shew,
And of their fraud, and ficklenesse repent.
Those Rotten-Members, those false Officers,
And those Committee-men, who have deceiv'd

The Kingdomes Trust, must for that guilt of theirs,
Passe other doomes, then yet they have receiv'd,
Before those wrongs, and practices, do cease,
Which keep away your much desired Peace.

They who have almost perfected the times
For desolation, by habituating
Themselves in Sodom's, and Gomorrah's crimes;
And, by an impudently imitating
Of their impenitence: ev'n they, that had
The pride of life, sacietie of bread,
And liv'd in idlenesse; must, now, be made
To tast their suffrings, who are hunger-fed:
To feele the paines of their laborious life,
Who, sweat in good employments; and the scorne,
Which humble-men have long without reliefe,
By their oppression, and ambition, borne.
These must be humbled, and perhaps destroy'd,
Before your expectations are enjoy'd.

Your counterfeit and rash Reformers, too,
Must change their hearts, and regulate their zeale,
Ere you shall compasse what you hope to do,
In matters of the Church, or Common-weale.
Your Scribes and Pharisees, who by long prayer,
Devour poore Widdowes houses; and by shewes
Of honestie (and by pretending faire
To pietie) good meaning soules abuse:
They, who in tithing mint, and annise, are
More strict, then in the weightie points of Law;
And, burthens great, for other men prepare,
When they themselves will hardly lift a straw:
These, must, e're perfect Peace you here shall see,
Be more unvizarded, then yet they be.

Your pettie-Tyrants, must be likewise fewer,
Then now they are; e're GOD will condescend,
To ease your burthens, or your griefes to cure;
Or, bring your dis-agreements to an end.

100

For, how, in equitie, can you expect
Your GOD should free you, from those injuries,
That Sov'raignty-abused may inflict?
Whilst you, on one another, tyrannize?
Or, how can, possibly, true Peace be there,
Where well nigh all are Tyrants to their power?
And, as they get advantage domineer,
Insult, oppresse, impov'rish, and devoure?
For, this oppression you may plainly see
In some of everie Calling, and Degree.

Nigh ev'rie one the King exemplifies,
In usurpation of Prorogatives,
Above his due: Nay, that which he denies
Vnto his Prince; injuriously, he strives
To take unto himselfe. The Peer, upon
The Commoner usurps: The Husband, so
Vpon the Wife: The Father, on the Son;
And, on their Servants, thus, the Masters, do.
In everie Corporation, thus presume
The Governours; yea, thus the Magistrate
Of lowest ranke, doth on himselfe assume
What, in his Chiefe, he will not tolerate:
And, they who their own Freedoms, fain would save,
Are alwaies willing, others to inslave.

These, and such Scabs, and Tetters, must be sear'd
E're they will heal; And, you must cut away
Those Members, whereon Gangrieves have appear'd:
Which, els, this Kingdoms body will destroy.
For, multitudes of those, among you, hide
Their Addle-heads: yea, many such as these
(Corrupting, both the one, and other side)
Do keep incurable this Lands disease.
And, to your safetie, it would most redound,
(And your desired Peace, the more assure)
If, by each partie, their own faults were found;
And, they themselves, endeavour'd their own cure:

101

Which, shall perhaps, begin, when on one day,
Both Parties, for this Grace, shall Fast, and Pray.

But, why shouldst thou be kept attending, here,
What further (to this purpose) may be said,
And be the while (when thou no harm dost fear)
Injuriously rewarded, and betraid?
Lo; they that hate thee, while thou art imploid
To seek their Peace; have now prevailed so,
That, if their plot thou quickly make not void,
They, whom thou honour'st most, shall thee undo.
That mischief to prevent, make therefore speed;
And, mark, when thy endeavour thou hast done,
What justice or injustice shall succeed:
For, guesse thou mayest, by what befalls thereon,
How safely thou hast ventur'd thy estate
Vpon the publike-Faith, or publique-Fate.

The VOICE here paws'd againe; and, forth I went
To see, how I requited was by them,
In whose defence, my fortunes, I have spent;
My life adventur'd, and consum'd my time.
If they deceive my hope, my greatest grief
Will be for them; because, I plainly see
Their failing me, of promised relief,
Will more dishonour them, then hinder me.
For, nor on Peeres nor Commons, I depend:
But, on his pow'r, and on his love alone,
Who, ere I had my being, was my Friend;
And, shall be, when my Foes are all undone.
By Him, in all oppressions, I am eas'd;
With whatsoere he pleases, I am pleas'd.

102

The third Canto.

Excuse me, if your longings be delai'd,
Mine owne Affaires, a little, to review;
And, if, here somewhat of my selfe be said,
Before my former Subject I pursue.
For, though I know not many, much encli'nd,
To heare, or speak, of what may profit me,
And see most pleas'd, when I am as unkind,
Or failing to my selfe, as others be:
Yea, though sometime I have appeared such,
Yet, now, my meaning to my selfe is better;
And, therefore, whosoever thinks it much,
My selfe, I finding, to my selfe a Debter,
Will here presume (because I justly may)
To do my selfe an Errand, by the way.

103

I know it will not relish well with some,
When, of my selfe, they this Digression find;
But (seeing Charitie begins at home)
When others do not, I, my selfe will mind.
My wrongs do not alone extend to me;
But, on the Publike Rights take, likewise, hold:
And, for my sake, since heard they cannot be,
They, for the Common-Safetie, shall be told.
Most famous Prophets, and renowned Saints,
And many other of approved wit,
When they oppressed were did make complaints,
And in their Volumes of themselves have writ.
If therefore, any of my Readers grutch,
The time of reading, some few leaves, to spare,
Concerning me, who have not thought it much,
All this, for his Advantage, to prepare;
I leave him to his pleasure, and his ease,
And bold will make, to do as I shall please.

The VOICE dismissing me, as in the Close
Of my preceding Canto, you have heard,
From Postures of Retirement, I arose,
To see, in what Designes, my Foes appear'd.
And, saw indeed my selfe so ill befriended,
That (whilst I mused with a serious thought,
What to the Common Peace and Safetie tended)
My Ruine had maliciously been sought.
And, that it hath been follow'd, ever since
My first engagement in these fatall wars;
By reason of an evill Influence,
To me directed from malignant Stars,
Who shining, openly, with faire Aspects,
Produce, in secret, mischievous Effects.

Which, if I should endeavour to expresse,
The paines, a small Advantage would returne;
Since, they who might my Grievances redresse,
Might grudge to heare so much as I have borne.

104

For, by Oppressions, manifold and great,
Remonstrances are often made so long,
That, when Redresses we suppose to get,
Our just Complaints, unheard, away are flung:
And, Malice can with so much impudence
Invent, and vent untruths, (in hope thereby
To disadvantage truest Innocence)
That, Patience is our cheapest remedy:
And, he who seeks for other Cures, oft doubles
His Grievance by Expence, Affronts, or Troubles.

There are so many Passages awry,
In ev'rie Action; and, in ev'rie Cause,
So many Tricks, to put a Hearing by;
To blind the Judges, and pervert the Lawes:
So many Fees and Charges, to be paid
To Witnesses, to Clerks, and Counsellours,
Which quite are lost, when Hearings are delai'd;
(Ten times, perchance, before an end appears:)
Nay, often, Partialitie and Pride,
(In stead of Justice) gives that provocation,
Which no free Spirit, alwaies, can abide,
Without some shewes of outward Indignation;
Whereby, he peradventure, doth augment
That mischiefe, which he labours to prevent.

At first, I hoped better, and I strove
In humble Supplications, to declare
My suffrings; and, their burden to remove.
Where likel'est means of such atchievement were.
But, there I saw such throngings with Petitions;
So small assistance, and so much ado:
There, saw I, in all private Expeditions,
And, in the publike, such Obstructions too:
Such waiting, such solliciting by friends;
Such mis-informings, makings, and unmakings;
Such partialitie, for private ends,
Such thwartings, such Opposings, and mistakings:

105

And, had so difficult a Course to run,
That, e're I could be heard I was undone.

A place of Profit, or of Reputation,
I never, hitherto, from any sought,
Vntill my selfe thereto by invitation
(From those whom it concern'd) I called thought.
And, when I have a matter to be heard,
I can enforce my selfe to little more,
Than (after I my suit have once preferr'd)
To wait for hearing, at the Counsell doore.
Perhaps, when long unheeded I attend,
I give remembrances that I am there;
Or, for dispatch, a word or two can spend:
And, if I speed not, much I do not care.
By which blunt course, I past, with little fruit,
Through many an honest Cause, and hopefull Suit.

When long Attendance, no dispatch affords,
My Passions, peradventure, overflow;
And, boyle up into those impatient words,
Which more Corruption, than Discretion, show.
And, then, they who, before, to do me right,
Could find no leisure, straight at leisure be,
To heare enough to do me a despight;
And, to my temper, that reduceth me.
For, though they, with a mischief, send me home;
Yet, many good effects, thereout arise:
Of them, and of my self, I, there, become
A Censurer: and, studie to despise
Those Things, and those Affaires pertaining to me,
Wherein, a Foole or Villaine, may undo me.

I cannot, though my life it were to save,
Sollicite, as I see most Suiters can;
And, rather than repulses I would have,
Vse ev'rie means, almost, to ev'rie man.
When I bring in a matter to be tri'd,
I hope, that all my Judges will be just:

106

And, (though, this way, much failing I have spide,)
Till he deceives me, no man I distrust.
To presse meer strangers, I, too modest am;
Wise men, regard not much solicitation;
To urge my Friends, their friendship seemes to blame;
To Court a Foole, is my abhomination:
And, favours to implore from persons evill,
To me appeares, a praying to the Devill.

This Inclination, as it keeps me poore,
So, it preserves me out of many Snares:
It makes my inward quiet much the more,
When outwardly, my rest disturb'd appeares.
And, therefore, when away I have been sent,
With lesse then nought, when more then all was due,
One puffe blew off, my greatest discontent;
And, e're I slept, I pleas'd, and merrie grew.
But, I of late, before I was aware,
That Object of my Contemplation lost,
Which teaches how affliction I should beare:
And, being with a sudden storm, then tost,
Opprest with wants, and with unkindnesse too,
It made me vex my selfe, as others do.

And, much adoe I had to keep my tongue
From speaking out the murm'rings of my heart;
And wonder not, that, others, having wrong,
Do somtime act an unbeseeming part:
No marvell, though a wiser man then I,
Was causlesly a mad-man term'd of late,
By reason he had with impatiencie,
Oppos'd some grosse abusings of the State:
And, that, the wisdome of the Holy Ghost,
Hath said, Oppression makes a wise man mad:
For, though true wisdome never can be lost,
A fit of madnesse may be thereby had;
And, so I think had I: and, so may you,
Who read me, being us'd as I am now.

107

For, when I came abroad and saw the spight
Which had been done me: And, when done it was
How much contentment, and how much delight
The Doers took in what they brought to passe;
Although I sleighted them, as foolish men,
Who had no sense, how I aveng'd might be,
Nor worth, to move my anger, or my pen)
Vnkindnesses, in others, troubled me.
And, though my service merit not so much
As an Acknowledgement (much lesse reward)
I thought, my love unto my Countrey such,
As might, at least, have purchased regard,
And friends enough, for me to have injoy'd
More grace then he, that would have her destroy'd.

Which finding otherwise; as one amaz'd,
I sate a while; not well discerning whether
Griefe, Shame, or Anger, that demurrer caus'd
(Or all those passions mustred up together.)
But, when I call'd to minde how many years
The Brunts of opposition, and of scorne,
Indur'd I have, for what, to me, appeares
To be the chiefest work, for which I'm borne:
And, when I minded, that, nor Peace, nor War,
Prelaticall, nor Presbyterian daies,
Nor youth, nor age, to me propitious are;
That King nor People, favour'd my essayes:
And, that nor Friends, nor Foes, nor Wrong, nor Right
Befriended me; it broke my patience quite.

And being much distemper'd, thus my thoughts
Began to grumble, (having drawne together
A crew, of Riotous distrusts and doubts,
Which, in such cases, call forth one another)
Art thou (said they to me) for all thy paines,
Thy losses, and adventures, thus rewarded?
Is this, the well-affected Parties gaines?
Are thus, our Vowes and Covenants rewarded?

108

Have we the tricks of Hocus Pocus learned
At our Committees? And, can some convay
A mischievous Designe, so undiscerned,
That, Honestie nor Wit, discover may
How impudently they abuse the State,
For private profit, or through private hate?

Was I, the first of those, who, where I dwelt,
To guard our Liberties, and save our Lawes,
An uncompelled Contribution dealt?
And, who first there was armed for this Cause?
Was I, among the first, who did withstand
The secret plottings of Malignants, there?
And, Horse, and Foot, and Castle did command,
When fewer Friends, than Foes, about me were?
Was I, among the first, of whose estate
The furious Adversarie made a prey?
Did I expose my selfe unto their hate,
Who offred me, a fairer-seeming way;
Wherein appear'd, what chance soever came,
A likely means, to get a saving-game?

Have I, my life adventur'd often too,
Through much discouragement, and without pay?
Done everie thing my strength or wit could do,
To keep the Weak, from falling quite away?
To help confirme the Strong? To bring them home,
Who by Seducers have been led aside?
To make our Newters, Zelots to become?
And mark-out Foes, that, here, as friends abide?
Have I, with patience view'd my selfe bereft,
In Taxes and Free-quarterings, by our owne,
Of what to me, the plundring Foe had left?
And, suffred other Injuries unknowne
In publike? and (it may be) now conceal'd,
That, they more seasonably may be reveal'd?

Have I, upon the Publike-Faith reli'd,
And on the Commons Order, fairly granted,

109

Vntill my Children might for bread have cri'd,
If I my self, had private credit wanted?
Have I, to serve my Countrey, so engaged
My Fortunes and my selfe, that, Open Foes
Against me are implacably inraged,
And, Secret-Ones, as virulent as those?
Have I, adventured, likewise, therewithall
Hopes present, and in expectation too,
Resolving, with this Cause, to stand and fall,
And (though abus'd) my Dutie still to do?
Yea, thus have I resolv'd? thus done? thus borne?
To be repaid with injuries and scorne?

Behold, Malignancie is growne so strong
Within our Quarters; and, hath so made voyd
The Publike Faith, that, I am lately flung
Quite out of that, which I, thereby, enjoy'd:
And, it hath acted with such insolence,
By colour of Authoritie abus'd,
That, it proceeds to warlike violence;
And like a Foe, the Kingdoms-friend, hath us'd.
Before I knew, that, any man appear'd
Against me there, where I was overthrowne;
Before that I was called to be heard,
Before my claime or answer, could be knowne;
I was expell'd unjustly, from my right,
With all the circumstances, of despight.

For, He that hath been armed to bereave me,
Of what by publike Order I possest,
And, wherewith (if good hopes do not deceive me)
That, Order shall, ere long, me re-invest;
Seem'd not enough content that he so sped,
Vnlesse by boasting of his Conquests too,
The Well-affected he discouraged;
And, shew'd Malignants, what his Friends could do:
Nor was it without much discouragement,
To all the Faithfull-Partie thereabout;

110

For, when they saw my hopes had that event,
It made them partly feare, and partly doubt;
Lest he, who for the Publike most hath done,
May live, till he shall least be thought upon.

For, nothing was considerable shew'd,
In him, to whom I did perforce resigne;
But, that his hands were in their bloud imbrew'd,
For whose defence, I have adventur'd mine.
I, put on Armes, to serve the Common-weale;
And, for her safetie offred all I had:
He, raised Forces, but to rob and steale;
And, to his pow'r, a spoyle thereof he made.
Nor, came he hither, as hath been surmiz'd,
With such Repentance, as he ought to bring;
But, to pursue a Stratagem, devis'd,
To have betray'd my person to the King:
Which not succeeding, and, he finding friends
Among my Foes, pursued other ends.

For, Friends he found (as most Malignants do)
So forward our Ill-willers to protect,
So pow'rfull, and, withall, so cunning too,
Their ends, by faire pretences, to effect;
That, though I were their neighbour, and their friend;
Though my endeavours had been truly done,
To further that, whereto they love pretend;
And, though before this War, I knew not one,
Whose malice, in those parts, suspect I mought;
Nor any person, who suspected me
To them injurious, in word, deed, or thought:
Yea, though, by Covenant, oblig'd they be
On my behalfe; They, naythelesse, did grow
Confed'rates with this Stranger, my knowne Foe.

Else, when they heard how first the Plot was layd
For my surprisall; where, it was begun;
To whom, he meant I should have been betrayd;
By whom, and how, and when it should be done,

111

Averr'd on oath, me thinks, in such a case
He should not, then, so suddenly, have found
So many fav'ring him, to my disgrace,
If all of them had at the heart been sound.
Nor, would you think, if everie circumstance
Were fully told, that Charitie first drew
So many to afford him countenance,
Who was their Foe, if they to us were true;
And, who may thank the spite they bore to me,
That, they, to him, so kind and friendly be.

And, on some likely Grounds, conceive I may
Those friends of his were they, who first convay'd
Those notions to him, which first shew'd the way,
How to my Foes I should have been betray'd.
For, from our Quarters, he so far, then, liv'd,
That, else, our Posture, and Affections, here,
He had not so well knowne, to have contriv'd
A plot, which did so feizable appeare.
And, when he came (as if his coming thither,
A blessing to the Conntrey had been thought)
To further his Designes, they joyn'd together;
They strength'ned him, against me, what they mought:
And published of me, to my disgrace,
What neither done, nor spoke, nor purpos'd was.

And, that they with their Grandees might comply,
My Neighbours turn'd about, I also find;
They whom, in Peace, I alwaies lived by,
And, unto whom I never was unkind;
Ev'n they, who true respect from me have had,
And, till this War, the like to me did show,
Are of my losses and disgraces glad,
And, to my causlesse wrong, befriend my Foe.
They mention me, when they together sit,
As if it hardly could allowed be,
That, of Religion, Souldierie, or Wit,
There appertained any share to me;

112

And speak for truths, what they themselves do know
They may with safety sweare, is nothing so.

My greatest wrongs, and suffrings, now, be there
Where best I have deserv'd: My greatest scorne
And dis-respect, is in those places, where
My dwelling was; and there where I was borne.
They who are most obliged to befriend me,
Have most abus'd my patience, and desert;
They, who have made a Covenant to defend me,
Have with my chiefest haters taken part.
Yea, now, when my affronts are to the wrong
Of Publike-Justice; and, when my defence
Vnto the Publike-safety doth belong,
They have expos'd my well-known innocence,
To his despight, 'gainst whom, erewhile, I thought
I needed not, protections to have sought.

In some respects, their cruelties are more
Then theirs, by whom my dwelling wast was laid;
For, (though they rob'd my house, and left me poore)
To bar reliefe, no spightfull part they plaid.
But, these trod on me, when they saw me down;
And, lest I should finde pitie in distresse,
A false report by them abroad was blowne,
As if my well-knowne losses had been lesse
Then I can prove them; For, I offer here
That if my hindrances (well weigh'd) be found
One mite below what I affirm'd they were;
For ev'rie shilling I will give a pound,
If they will my true dammages defray
When I have prov'd that true which they gain-say.

Yet, some, to that intent, did late suborne
The most defamed Varlets of the Shire
To sweare against me, and to be forsworne,
By crossing what they formerly did swear:
To that intent, while our Committee sate,
The Kingdomes Foe, had leave in person, there,

113

To mannage witnesses, as for the State,
And, them by leading questions to prepare,
For proofe of what they falsly did suggest,
To my dishonour: But, they could not bring
Their witnesses, against me, to attest,
One culpable, or one materiall thing;
Nor was it worth regarding if they had,
Consid'ring, of what persons, choice they made.

For, one of those, unto that village came
Where now he lives; due punishment to shun,
Or, to escape a just deserving shame,
For what he in another place had done.
He, now, in part by labour, part by prowling,
(With other courses to his neighbours knowne,
As lawlesse fishings, and unlawfull fowling)
And taking somwhat more then is his own,
Makes shift to live. Another of this Pack,
Was he, that should have been the Instrument
Of my betraying, who like course doth take;
And, lately, to avoid the punishiment
Deserved long, is married to a whore;
With whom he lived like a knave before.

The third, a Labourer of evill fame,
Whom I five years together had imploy'd
(To keep his brats from starving, him from shame,
And, that, he other mischieves might avoid)
This Beast, when I was plundred by our Foes
Of what they found, made offer (for a sum,
By him desired) that he would disclose
A parcell of my goods, then hidden from
Those Vultures eyes; who, readily agreed
To promise much: But, when the work was done,
And, this false Traitor came to aske his meed,
Some blowes they gave, but, money gave him none;
And, told him, hanging was the fittest pay
For him, that such a master would betray.

114

The fourth of these, had been my servant too,
Whom (though he had deserved publike shame
For doing more then honestie should do)
I put away, without an open blame:
And, at that time his faultinesse conceal'd,
Because he seem'd religiously inclin'd;
But, shortly after, other men beheld
Apparent proofe of his dis-honest mind.
For, in the night felloniously he broke
A Colonels Field-Waggon of our side
Then quartering at his Masters; and thence took
Some things of worth; for which, he did abide
Correction in the Bilboes, for a day,
And after, by connivance, ran away.

These were the witnesses, which forth were sought
By some who for the Parliament pretend,
In hope their power, should more effects have wrought
On those choice Instruments to worke their end.
These (whom I'le prove charactred thus to be
Without the least addition of a lie)
Are they, whom now my foes, to scandall me,
Have rak'd out of the ditch of infamy.
These, are encourag'd to devise and say
Of me their pleasures: and to bring and carrie
What ever to my wrong convert they may,
Or to the profit of my adversarie;
Whom, to the States dishonour, they protect,
And meerly, in dispight of me, respect.

When informations, were against him laid,
And his reply required thereunto;
From just restraint, his person they convaid,
Before cause showne, or order so to do.
On his behalfe they have subscribed hands,
Thereby deluding, wilfully, the State:
He had our soulderie at his commands,
To execute his pleasure, and their hate.

115

And, hath so far prevailed, that unlesse
The mercie of the State vouchsafe with speed
The suffrings of her servant to redresse,
And him, and his oppressors better heed;
For ought he sees, his Countrey he may serve
With faithfulnesse; and yet his houshold starve.

Why should my person from that place be driven,
In which I best know how to serve the State?
Of what to me, by publike grace was given,
Why should I be depriv'd, by private hate?
What knew they in him, whom they more befriended,
But that he was this Realmes professed foe?
Or why to do me wrong have they contended,
Except because I never will be so?
They who were wont to gloze and fawne upon me,
When I was arm'd among them; and while they
To their Designes were hopefull to have won me,
Now snuffe, and turn their nose another way.
And think, that they themselves now quite have freed,
From him, who mark'd and hindred their proceed.

For, that Confed'racie within those parts,
Where then I liv'd (and maugre whose intent
I there commanded) having rotten hearts
Vnfaithfull, alwaies to the Parliament,
Perceiving me unlikelie to be made
Their Instrument; and, that my presence, there,
(With such repute, and power as I then had)
Might marre their works, which they contriving were:
They so prevail'd, that from my Garrison
I was removed, if thence not betray'd:
(For many things suceeded thereupon,
Which made me think, that so it may be said)
And all our neigh'bring Countrie, ever since,
Hath dearly paid, for my removing thence.

When I was gone, a part of those arose
(Encourag'd by some other underhand)

116

And my estate, (as chiefest of their foes)
First seiz'd; and then, the place of my Command.
In which forth-breaking, some went on so far,
That, ever since, they open foes have been:
Some went as far as fooles, and cowards dare;
And then slunck back, in hope they were not seen.
But, some of them so cunningly did act,
That, though they are as guilty as the rest,
By circumstances; yet, by open fact
Their falshood is not perfectly exprest:
And, these by cunning, such effects have wrought,
That knaves and fooles, our faithfull men are thought.

These, have a way invented how to arme
The dangeroust Malignants of the Shire,
And, make men hope their Foes will do no harme,
Till sheathed in their Chest their swords appeare.
These, have a trick to make their neighbours dreame,
A double Taxe increaseth not their cost,
And, that though their designes have begger'd them,
Their wit, alone, sav'd all from being lost.
These, have so laid their Scœne, and acted so,
That, though we daily heare, and plainly see,
What course they bend, and what they mean to do,
(When all things to their purpose rip'ned be)
We strive in vain their projects to prevent;
And, gaine but mischieves, for our good intent.

Nay, this new Junto, doth so strong become,
By their conferring Offices and Places,
By adding-to, and by removing-from,
By secret-commendations, and disgraces;
And by deluding of a simple crew,
(Who, by these Polititians, may be brought
Their own perdition fiercely to pursue)
That, they have almost compast what they sought;
And, they will gain the rest, if not prevented;
For, by their diligence, they have removed,

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Vndone, discouraged, or discontendted
Most men, whose faithfulnesse was most approved:
And, they, whose power, these cannot yet destroy,
Do act with small successe, and little joy.

Had I conceiv'd, that, now it would have been,
As needfull as I find it, to collect
Such proofes of that which I have heard and seen
To prove their faithlesnesse whom I suspect,
Or know unfaithfull: that, I might have made
Such proofes to others, as I have whereby
To prove it to my selfe; I should have had
Enough to make me able to unty
That knot of Vipers, which now to unknit
Is not so easie. But, my aime hath bin
To mend particulars, and bend my wit,
In generalls, alone, to strike at sin:
And, that hath rendred, now, my power the lesse,
The mischiefs of this Faction to suppresse.

These, having long, and many severall wayes,
To root me from among them, tride their wit;
And failed heretofore in their assayes,
At last, thus hapned to accomplish it.
Within that Village, where my Spoilers made
A prey of that estate which I possest,
A Captain of the Kings a Chattle had,
With which, the Parliament did me invest.
He, is that person who protected was,
As I have here exprest: had they a thought,
By countenancing him, to bring to passe
Their purpose; and have gained what they sought,
For, I, who serv'd my Countrie, thence am chas'd;
And he that spoild it, in my room, is plac'd.

I grudge not mercie when it should be showne,
Nor is my heart so churlishly inclin'd,
As not to spare, a portion of mine owne,
Where, Objects fit for mercy, I shall find,

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But, when I see my selfe ungently us'd,
Those favour'd, who my life would have betray'd,
Authoritie deluded and abus'd,
And plots to ruine, and disgrace me, laid;
I cannot think it Patience to be mute,
In such a case; or, that with charitie,
Or with a manly prudence it can suit,
To passe, at all times, such abuses by:
Or, that we may not, justly, on our foes
Repaire what in this lawfull war we lose.

Why should it grudged be, that by the Sword,
We, by the Sword, our losses repossesse?
Why should our Partie to their friends afford
Lesse favour, then to those that merit lesse?
So well deserving, wherefore should he seem
Who put the State to hazzard, and to cost
That all his great estate he should redeem
For lesse, then at one skirmish I have lost?
Of those reliefes, why should I be defeated,
Which do, by right and grace, to me belong?
Thereof, why should I be dispoil'd and cheated,
Both to the States dishonour, and my wrong?
And, wherfore should I not expect, and have
A confirmation, of what once they gave?

For, who will in our Senators confide,
Or prize their Orders which are made by them,
If they permit them to be vilifi'd?
And, their Ioynt-Votes, loose Members to contemne?
To say, they heeded not what things they granted,
So prudent an Assembly, mis-became;
To say, they power to make it good, have wanted,
Would wrong their power, and bring us all to shame:
And, to affirme that they regardlesse are
To vindicate their grant, for his relief,
Who to advantage them, his life could spare,
Were to averre, what merits no belief.

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How comes it then, that, I dispights have born?
And that their favours, now from me, are torn?

Why hath it openlie, by some, been spoke
Ere question put, or anie vote made known,
That, there is an intention to revoke
What by the Commons, was on me bestown?
How dared he (who rather should uphold
The Commons lawfull Right in what he may)
How dared he (assoon as it was told
By whom I claim'd) in sleighting wise to say,
Twas but the Commons Order? as if that
Were not an Act sufficient to confer,
For my Recruit, the personall estate
Of any trait'rous Rebell-Commoner;
Vntill a time return, in which, men may
Have Justice done them, in a legall way.

Why are false rumours rais'd and entertain'd,
As if I manie thousand pounds had got;
Whereas, of hind'rances by me sustain'd,
To me, the tenth as yet returneth not?
How comes it, that attendance, nigh two yeare
Procureth me (although my wants be great)
No pennie of two thousand pounds arreare?
Nor an imploiment, that affords me meat?
Why speed I thus? And wherefore, notwithstanding
The remnant of my ruines forth I laid,
Thereby to keep my souldiers from disbanding,
Is nothing, in requitall, yet, repaid,
But sleights, and slanders? yea, though use I pay
For manie hundreds of it, to this day?

Indeed, my house GOD hath refurnished;
And, of his Love, to give me outward showes,
Hath cloath'd my Bodie, and my Table spred,
As well in spite, as presence of my Foes.
Yet, when I shall account how I have liv'd;
Of what I have been hindred, since this war;

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How, much was lost; how little is receiv'd;
How, my successive-wants supplied are:
How, my engagements ev'rie day encrease,
How destitute, my Wife and Children be,
Of outward Portions; and, how mercilesse
This world, hath all my life time, been to me:
They, who their favours, have on me bestow'd,
Shall find no cause to grudge the Mercie show'd.

And though (as some conceive) I had obtained
A full repaire, and therewith somewhat more
Than my bare losses? what, had I then gained,
Respecting all my damage heretofore?
Against those Traytours to the Common-Good,
Who, now, apparent Enemies are found,
Nigh thirtie yeares, a Combate I have stood:
So long ago, I to these Iles did sound
A warning Trumpet. So long have I borne
The frownes and furie of the wanton Court,
The Prelates malice, the despitefull scorne
Of wealthy Fooles, and of the vulgar sort.
Yea, though I know a path applauded more,
I took the course, I knew, would keep me poore.

And, why should any man be discontent,
That for my damages, and service then,
My charges, paines, and close imprisonment,
I, now have bread, and clothes, like other men?
Why is a trifle thought too much for me?
When, one sleight Officer can in a yeare,
Cheat up a Sum, that shall sufficient be,
To pay my damages, and my Arreare?
Why, grievous doth it seeme, that, out of that,
Which was by him possessed, who compli'd
With those, who robbed me of my estate,
A part of my great losse should be suppli'd?
He having spoyl'd my Friends of ten times more,
Than, ten times that small part, he should restore.

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Since, we for Traytours, and for Cut-throats, here,
(And for their wives, and their malignant brood)
Provisions make, when Converts they appeare;
Why should there not, of raiment, and of food,
For us, our Wives, and Children, some supplies
Be likewise made? yea, since they were the Cause,
That, on our backs, the work so heavie lies,
Of holding up our Liberties, and Lawes?
Why are we poorly cloth'd, while they are brave,
By whose unfaithfulnesse we are undone?
While we want bread, why should they fulnesse have,
By whom, these wars and troubles were begun?
And, till a Restauration may be had,
Of what we lost, why should they rich be made?

Since by our Adverse partie, our estate
Is given and possessed: Since we are
Assured of their everlasting hate,
So long as we have either peace, or war,
Or Being in this life: yea, since our Cause
Is knowne unto us, to be just, and right;
Since for our Conscience, Liberties, and Lawes,
Against oppressing Tyrants we do fight:
Since to avenge the Saints, we do oppose,
Not meerly Cananites, whom for their sin,
The Land would vomit forth; but, also those,
Who without cause, this war did first begin:
Why should we not out of their Barnes be fed,
By whom we have been robbed of our bread?

Nay, since our Charitie doth portions give,
To feed their wives and children, while among
Our Adversaries, in that course, they live,
Which this unhappie Warfare doth prolong,
Why should not we and ours, as well as they,
Be cared for? since with a willing heart,
We bore the heat and burthen of the day,
And, from our duties, mean not to depart?

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Why is our equitie, and our discretion
So small, that till our losses be repai'd,
We suffer for a trifling composition,
Their whole estates, by them to be enjoy'd?
And, their full freedome, who, for ought we know,
Are here, but Spies, or Agents for the Foe?

He, whom, that true Repentance bringeth home,
Which makes a reall Convert to the State,
Not for his Lands, but Conscience sake doth come;
And, such an one, if we redintegrate,
When, of his penitence good proofes appeare;
Of Charitie, both to our selves and them,
An honourable Evidence it were,
Which no man should repine at, or condemne.
But, when we unadvisedly shall part
With large Possessions, for a Person, which
Brings to us, neither wit, nor honest heart,
Nor Pow'r, nor any thing to make us rich,
But poorer; and, it may be weaker too,
How reasonlesse, is then the thing we do?

When we receive to Mercie, those who seek
No more, but how they their estates may save;
To compasse by that match, what are we like,
But an estate to lose, and find a knave?
They, strength receiving, from our false-ones, here,
Restrengthen them; and are so knit together,
That, we who to this Cause most faithfull were,
Are much disabled by their coming hither.
And, what advantage had we lost, I pray,
If of those few, who reconciled seeme,
None had return'd? what lost we, if you weigh,
How uselesse to that partie they did seeme,
From whom they came (while they continued there?)
And, what they are to us now they are here?

Who shall at last our private losse repay,
If this course hold? who shall the charge sustaine

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Of all our future detriments, but they,
Who of the cost already do complaine?
Why should a perjur'd Commoner, or Lord,
(Who, peradventure, did but stay behind,
That some advantages it might afford,
To those departed) suffred be to blind
The Publike Eye, in favour of our Foes?
Defraud the State? And in our competitions
Sleight, and affront us, for the sake of those,
Who wilfully endeavour'd our perditions?
And, only, come (for ought yet knowne unto us)
That, at our cost, they safely may undo us?

When of my goods, the Foe had me dispoil'd,
(For doing faithfull service) and when I,
To seek an habitation was compell'd,
And had provided for my Family,
By publike Order; why neglected so
Was I, and mine? That (knowing not else where
My wife with her big belly to bestow)
I was displac'd, and forc'd to habour there,
Where desolation dwelt? And, in that place,
Why was the wife of him that plund'red me
There setled? why, to my disgrace,
Must I the second time removed be,
And made a Shuttle-cock, or Tennis-ball,
For ev'rie Foole and Knave to play withall?

As I have hope to live, and see an end
Of these Distractions; and, as ere I die,
I hope to see our greatest Foe our Friend,
(Which are my Hopes, though yet I know not why)
Vnlesse the Civill Justice shall ere long,
Restore my Right; If all the braines I have,
Can in a martiall Posture make me strong,
My Tamenesse, shall no longer me inslave.
But, what the Commons pleased to afford
(My losses in their Service, to repay)

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Ile repossesse, and settle by the Sword,
Or, in that place, my bones I meane to lay.
No run-away Commander of the Kings,
Shall baffle me, although unto his aid,
A Troop of those Committee-men he brings,
By whom the best affected are betrai'd;
But, I will make it knowne, if urg'd thereto,
I dare do that, none think I dare to do.

My heart thus murmur'd: And, I know not well,
To what it would have stirr'd me; for, my blood
Began to boile, my veines began to swell,
And, in mine eyes, a flaming furie stood.
But, ere this great distemper, to it height
Was raised up; I felt into my brest
Another Spirit entring, which made sleight
Of all, which in this rapture was exprest.
With many secret checks my heart it strooke,
(Which no man but my selfe do much concerne)
Out of my soule repining thoughts it shooke,
It taught me my great failings to discerne;
And, then, the VOICE late heard, did thus begin,
To speak againe unto me, from within.

Impatient, foolish, and forgetfull man,
If, now, thou hadst been left to thy career,
To what conclusions had thy folly ran?
And, what wouldst thou have made thy selfe appear?
These are, indeed, such musings as the times
Are busied in. This, is the common note;
Thus go the Citie, and the Countrey chimes;
And, this, without book, now, most men have got.
Your private wrongs, and injuries are minded,
With such a partiall, and self-seeking heart;
That, in all publike matters, most are blinded,
And, act a carelesse, or a faithlesse part.
Yea, so much after private ends men run,
That little publike service can be done.

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In such a blustring tone, thou here hadst shew'd
Thy private wrongs, as if thy passion meant,
By furie, some short passage to have hew'd,
Through all Opposers, to thine owne content.
This will not be the Way, to break asunder
The Lincks of Tyrannie. Among you, be
So many stormes of lightning, and of thunder,
Already raised, that no Coast is free.
The calmest tempers, and the sobrest wit,
The self-denying, and the suffring hearts;
The Worke, the Time, the Place, now best befit:
And, if by these, you play not forth your parts,
The Tragedies, now acting on your stage,
Prolong'd will be, with an encreasing rage.

In ev'rie Publike Work (as here thou dost)
Each one, some way or other, still contrives
How, thereinto he that Designe may thrust,
Whereby, his private Trade he forward drives.
Yet, these your failings, Providence Divine
Employeth, oft, to further his intent,
And, shall by this Digression now of thine,
Make better use, than thy corruption meant.
For, thereby both to others, and to thee,
Occasion will be offer'd, to discover
Some Observations, which will helpfull be,
Your Wits, your Peace, and patience to recover.
Oh! how can praises due to him be sung,
Who, thus, extracts you gold out of your dung!

By this thy giddie Rage, and blunt relating
A branch of thy oppressions, wise men may
Perceive on what their hearts are ruminating,
Who twice as much have borne, yet lesse can say.
And, thence, perhaps, their wisdome will collect,
What may succeed, unlesse their care prevents
The likely consequence, and ill effect
Of Foes prevailings, and Friends discontents;

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From thence, it may be, they some hints will take,
To mark proceedings better than they did;
And, for the publike safetie, notice take
Of Snakes, which underneath faire flowers lye hid.
Thus, otherwhile, the failings of a Foole,
By Providence, may set the Wise to schoole.

But, why wert thou enrag'd? what wantest thou,
That, with impatiencie, thou dost repine?
What Peere, or Prince, in all these Ilands now,
Enjoyes a Fortune that surpasses thine?
Hast thou not bread, and cloaths enough, and more
Than for the present day may well suffice?
And, by that Friend, who kept thee heretofore,
Assurance (for the future) of supplies?
Hast thou not had a Promise of Protection,
In all thy waies; assuring thee, that neither
The Rage of War, of Famine, or Infection,
Nor, all those joyned in one Plague together,
Shall do thee harme, if thou in him confide,
Whose aid to no Beleever is deni'd.

Why shouldst thou feare, though thy estate is gone,
(And Mercie fled) that thou, or thine, may want?
Who know'st, man liveth not by bread alone,
And, where, for asking, all things may be had?
What need'st thou care, though they at last deceive thee,
On whom thou didst repose an ample trust;
Who hast an able Friend, that will not leave thee,
Though all hopes else were buried in the dust?
Why shouldst thou vex, to see Oppressours flourish,
That hast beheld so many, in thy daies,
Arise from nothing, and to nothing perish?
And that the Part which ev'rie Tyrant plaies,
How gloriously soever he ascends,
In certaine shame, and sudden ruine ends?

Wouldst thou be rich? what riches canst thou find
Of greater worth, than truly to enjoy,

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At such a time as this, a setled mind,
And such a state, as no man can destroy?
Some thousands, who but few weeks past could say,
That their Revenues, and their Incomes, were
Enough to furnish them, for ev'rie day,
With more than thine affordeth for a yeare;
Have nothing left them now. Why striv'st thou then,
To seek a certaintie, where can be none?
To catch at that which flies from other men?
To save thy selfe, when all is overthrowne?
And (knowing what thou knowest) to desire
To take a house, where all the Towne's on fire?

Wouldst thou be honourable? where is he,
That by the Bodily, or Ghostly Line,
Derives his Being by a Pedigree,
That ancienter, or nobler is, than thine?
What more heroicall can be atchiev'd,
Than, what no King can give, or take away?
And by the King of Kings to be receiv'd
Into that Order, whose true Badge, none may
So much as know, but he that weares the same,
And was twice borne? What honour is so great,
As his, whom Povertie, Reproach, and Blame,
Still more ennobles? And, who doth beget
His honours out of those, who most contemne
His Reputation; and, in spite of them?

Thou hast been taught; and, thou dost seeme to know
This Path to Honour; and yet taken art,
With such vaine Bubbles, as from fancie flow:
And, whereon, ev'rie worldling sets his heart.
Cannot thy contemplations thee enable,
To let the simple people dote upon
Their Hobby-horse, their Fooles Cap, and their Bable,
Because thy Fortune will afford thee none?
Canst thou not passe, except a stone thou throw
At ev'rie Cur that bawles? Nor, yet, forbeare

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Impatient, for those vanities, to grow,
Whose emptinesse to thee discover'd are?
For shame, let more conformity be shown,
In practice, unto that which thou hast known.

Who can expect (when they shall see or hear,
With what distemper thou hast here exprest
Thy private wrongs) that other men should bear
Their sufferings well, when they are so opprest?
If thou who know'st, what comforts do attend
A calme, and patient bearing of the Crosse,
What blessing crownes the Meek mans latter end,
And with what riches GOD repaies his losse;
Art so inrag'd; no marvell, if nigh mad
Some others grow, who are as greatly pain'd,
And want th'experiments which thou hast had,
Whereby the wrongs may better be sustain'd.
Is this the power? is this the strength of him,
Who, somtimes, thinks he could the world contemn?

Is this a time for thee, who hast made show
Of better hopes, to scramble, with the Boyes,
For Nuts and Apples? wilt thou struggle now,
With Fooles and Slaves, for bables and for toyes?
Contend thou not with Children, in their play;
Nor strive thou their vaine longings to possesse:
From Micah take thou not his Gods away,
Lest they may bring thee to unhappinesse.
Endeavour what is comly to be done,
To reap the profit, which to thee belongs.
Vse prudent meanes Oppressors pawes to shun;
Or, to remove, or mitigate thy wrongs:
And, to that purpose, having done thy best,
Be patient, and to God commit the rest.

And, to preserve this temper, warie be
(Above all other times) when their despight
And envie shall be exercis'd on thee,
Who think, the Publike-Trust belongs, of right,

129

To so much by the yeare: These, have so long
Inslav'd the people; that themselves disgrac'd
They do conceive, if, to do right or wrong,
Inferiours, in Authority be plac'd:
And, these have lately censur'd it unfit,
That, with so reverend a thing, as Wealth,
Such strangers, now, as Honesty, and Wit,
Should called be, to serve the Common-wealth,
Or lend a helping hand, to save, what they
Have took a course to ruine, many a day.

These, value men, according to the Rent
Their Fathers left them: and, these cannot brook
Without vexation, and much discontent,
That, notice should of other worth be took.
And, therefore, if it must be as these will;
If your besotted people have a minde
To be oppressed, to be fooled, still,
And, to be kept, perpetually blinde;
Straine not thy selfe, to helpe unlade an Asse
That loves his burden; nor, his drivers trouble;
But, let them, and their silly creature passe,
Till they have made their scornes and mischiefs double.
For, he that meddles with them, nothing gains,
But kicks, and evill language, for his pains.

Cast quite behind thee, what of their despite,
Or injuries, to thee, hath been reported:
Their open hate, with secret love requite;
For evill, let not evill be retorted.
Fret not thy self, although thou see them jeer,
And Thee, and thy Authority deride:
For, most, to whom their envy shall appear,
Will laugh to scorne, their folly, and their pride.
And, as thou soughtst it not, nor dost, yet, know,
By whom, that seeming-honour was confer'd;
So, whether thou continued be, or no,
In thy imployments, give it no regard:

130

For, thou shalt sit ere long, above their hate,
And, their Commissions shall be out of date.

While thou remain'st amongst them, do thy best
To side with innocence; and do not there
Of wicked prophanations make a jest;
Curse those that curse; or swear at those that swear.
Abuse not thy Authoritie or Place
To favour knaves, or put good men to sorrow:
Plead not for law, this day in one mans case,
What, for another, shall be none to morrow.
Vse not thy power, thy neighbours to enslave,
As manie do who bettet things pretend,
And, when thou chargest others, care to have
That they against their Oathes do not offend,
Take heed, thou mak'st more conscience of thine own
Then others of their oathes, have lately showne.

For, some of those, who fluently can preach
Vpon the Bench, as tho (if need had bin)
They could the Parson of the Parish teach
To do his dutie in reproving sin:
Even some of those, at that time countenance
Known Malefactors, there, indicted for
Crimes then in charge: and, shamelesly advance
In practice, what in words, they do abhorre.
When there, they have inveighed at abuses,
Occasion'd by permitting an excesse
Of licenc'd and unlicen'd tipling-houses,
(And their suppression, urg'd with earnestnesse;
(Instead of what they would appear to do)
They seem to put downe one, and set up two.

These are not pleas'd, that an observing-eye
Is plac'd among them. And, perhaps, to prove
Thy patience, these, their power ere long will trie:
But, Thee to no distemper let it move.
This, is a time of suffring: and, though men
Are instruments each other to correct,

131

Yet, GOD, himselfe employes them. Suffer, then,
Without repining, what he shall inflict.
Although thy foes oppresse, and friends forsake thee,
Let no ill tydings make thy heart affraid,
From thy first principles, let nothing shake thee,
What ere against thee, shall be done or said:
But, further what to Publike-peace belongs,
And leave thou unto GOD, thy private wrongs.

For, though it may be granted, that, if here
Thou should'st illustrate all things which concern
Thy usages (but onely in that Shire
Where thou hast liv'd) thy Readers might discern
In what condition manie others are
Who truly, serve the Publike: yet, take heed
Lest following thine own suffrings over-far
May tediousnesse, or sleighting of them breed.
Be watchfull too; lest by much musing on
Thy personall affronts, a selfe-respect
May cause mis-censures to be cast upon
The Publike Justice, to her dis-respect.
For men opprest, and griev'd in an extreme,
Look, not alone with sullennesse, upon
Those Parties that are thought to injure them,
And on their own oppressions, as if none
Had borne the like; but, also, as if cleare
They from all blame, in all their suffrings, were.

And, in a publike Grievance, scarce a man
Among a thousand, searcheth out those things
Which mis-befall, so farre as they began,
To find the Fountaines, whence the mischief springs.
Most men (and thou among the rest for one)
Can spie out many others, much to blame,
But, few men heed what they themselves have done,
Whereby the Plague so generall became.
And, whence soev'r it comes, the Male-content
Though in the Persons he the cause may find,

132

Fomes out his venome on the Government,
And, to a change is presently inclin'd.
Whereas, the mischiefe, still, the same will be
Vntill there be a change in such as He.

Ev'n some of you, (and manie is that some)
Who to the skies, this Parliament have rais'd,
With whom, it was almost a GOD become,
And such, as never could enough be prais'd.
This Parliament, in whose defence you stand
Till all your pretious things, are well nigh wasted,
Till warre, hath marched quite through all the land,
Till bitternesse, in all your sweets is tasted;
Till into pieces, Families are torne,
Vntill with blood, your wayes, and streets do run,
Till Towns, and Towers, and Temples down are borne,
Till Prince and Peasant, are almost undone;
Till Famine, too, beginneth to appeare,
Which in long Warfares, bringeth up the reare.

This Parliament, for which you suffer so,
And for whose preservation beare you would
Ten times as much, might you before-hand know,
What, (if it prosper'd not) ensue there should;
Ev'n to this Parliament, so highly priz'd,
You in your former love are growing slack.
This your Diana, is by some despis'd:
Of your Distractions, her the cause you make.
On her, you laid the burthen and the blame,
(As if due care she wanted, or fore-sight)
When disadvantage, or dishonour came
By ill successe in counsell, or in fight;
And murmured, as if your hearts had said,
That, by your Parliament, you were betrai'd.

Such is your folly, (madnesse I might say)
That, some among you, so your selves expresse
As if you thought it much advantage may
The Publike Cause, to bring her faithfulnesse,

133

Or prudence into question: For, you heare,
Collect, report, and have dispersed, so,
All scandalls, and dis-trusts, which malice reare;
And, daily give such credence thereunto,
That, you (who seeme to be unfained Friends
Vnto this Parliament) have, thereby, done
Those mischieves to it, which the Foe intends;
And will destroy it, if this course you run:
Yea, this your folly, will more weaken it
Then all your cunning Adversaries wit.

For, this imprudencie will by degrees
Your bones unsinnew, and your joynts untie:
By this, you both their hands and hearts will leese,
Who, in your Quarrell, vow'd to live and die.
What Devill then hath tempted you, in this,
To sin against your soules? and, blinds you so
That, you observe not whose design it is
Which you now further, and whose work you do?
The honour of that Senate, is the power,
And life thereof; and, on the life of that,
Dependeth ev'ry Priviledge of your,
Belonging to your temporall estate;
And, peradventure, some way doth extend,
That being, to concern, which hath no end.

It is your duty, therefore to discerne
And labour the defence of that which may
Your being, and well-being so concerne:
And, to that purpose, there is much to say,
For, though it be your strongest Creature-guard
Against Oppressors; yet, you can expect
No safer Tutelage to be confer'd
Thereby, then what a Creature may effect.
It labours your protection; but, alas!
The worke is great, and through much opposition,
And manie difficulties, they must passe,
To bring this Land, into a safe condition.

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For to restore you to your peace agen,
'Tis now, a work for GOD, and not for men.

You heed their failings; but, you heed not yet
(Nor fullie can conceive) how hard a worke
They have to do, nor how they are beset
With enemies; nor what obstructions lurke
In these proceedings, which make show to be
Without a rub, to them who stand aaloof,
And have not opportunitie to see
What stops may rise, before they come to proofe.
Their own infirmities, as they are men
(And which you ought to wink at) may perchance
In this great enterprize, be now, and then,
Occasions of no little hinderance:
For, who but GOD, alone, can perfect be?
Or, who is fit for such a work, but he?

The haynous sins, and manie obdurations,
Of that great Bodie, whom they represent,
And of those froward, and divided Nations,
Which are concerned in their Government,
Give being unto many sev'rall things,
And actions, whence, oft-times, an accident
Vnlooked for; or some hid mischiefe springs,
Which humane policie cannot prevent.
When Israel sinneth, Benjamin that hath
A wicked cause, their Brethren down shall smite,
To expiate the just avengers wrath,
Before the cause prevailes, that is upright:
Whilst in the camp an Achan doth remain,
These Counsell, and your Souldiers fight, in vain.

Though Moses govern'd you, though Josuah were
Call'd up to be your Armies Generall;
And Davids Worthies now revived, here,
To be your Colonells, events would fall
Below your hopes, whilst unrepented sin
Is, wilfully, conniv'd at: For, that, made

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Your Parliaments unprosprous; that, hath been
Chiefe cause of all their failings they have had.
And, then, beside this hindrance, and this bar
To their successe, they have a powerfull foe
Opposing them as well by force of war,
As by what fraud and tyrannie can do:
And, that their Faith and stoutnesse may appear,
A muster of their foes I give you here.

Their Generall in chiefe is ANTICHRIST,
And, he the main Battalia, now, commands:
Which, of those armed Locusts doth consist
On whose Activitie his Empire stands.
Lievtenant-Generall, is he that strives
A conquest of your Liberties to make;
And counts it one of his Prerogatives,
As he shall please, your goods, to give and take.
He leads the Van; in which, with him appeares
Those Princes, and those Nobles, who still are,
And were at first, the wicked Councellers,
Who did encourage him unto this war;
And he of broken Courtiers, up hath made
(And of some beggar'd Lords) all this Brigade.

The Major-Generall, (who bringeth on,
The right wing of this Armie) is the Prince
Of broken-fortunes; who still falls upon
The Carriages, and Baggage, that from thence
He may recruit. His ragged Regiments
(Beside those lousie, and those tatter'd fellowes
Late pressed for him, out of Beggers Rents,
And freed from the prisons, and the gallowes)
Were patch'd up, out of Bankrupts, cast-Commanders,
Cashier'd Bandettees, Fellowes of the pot,
Debauched Players, Tapsters, Gamesters, Panders,
With such, as in a drunken fit were got
To beare them companie. And, these are they
Who first made plunder seem a lawfull prey.

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The left wing, by Pope would be, ordered is;
A stately Prelate, and one, for whose sake,
(Though he the Triple-crown is like to misse)
The war, now rais'd, did first beginning take.
He, heads a Partie of as desp'rate mates,
As e're drew sword: and, manie of them be
Both disciplin'd to make Assasinates,
And readie for it, when their time they see.
Among these, march some prudent-seeming men,
Some, that, more honestie then wealth do want:
Some wittie fellowes; but, not one for ten
Of those, that are extreamlie ignorant;
The openly prophane, the closelie vitious,
The Papists, Atheists, and the Superstitious.

The Rear is brought up by a Libertine,
That is for anie Doctrine or opinion:
For any Government or Discipline,
For Protestant, for Brownist, for Arminian,
Or, anie thing he pleases. And, he gives
This libertie (so far as they are able
To make it good) to all, whom he receives
Into his Troopes; which are innumerable:
For, all that would their wicked lusts fulfill,
All they, who Law, and Order do contemn;
All they, that are ambitious of their will,
Ev'n all of these, unite themselves to him:
And, in his quarters, manie women too
Are found, who, not a little mischiefe do.

These Forces, both asunder and united,
Have so obstructed, and so manie waies,
This Parliament opposed, and dispighted,
In all their consultations, and assaies;
They have by sleight of wit, by strength of hand,
By Treacheries, by Treaties, and by Spies
Abroad, and here at home; by Sea, and Land,
By Protestations, Promises, and Lies,

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And, by a thousand other tricks, beside,
Pursu'd such meanes and courses to distract,
Affright, discourage, weaken, or divide,
And, frustrate what they shall advise or act;
That,'tis no wonder you have sped no better,
But, rather, that the mischieves are no greater.

For, if beside the disadvantages
Which have occurred to this Parliament,
(By open enemies) you now shall please
To take true notice of the detriment
Sustain'd by them, who seeme no adversaries;
Or them, who friend-like in your Quarters live;
Whose hand, at once, both fire and water carries;
And, mean worst actions, when best words they give:
If you shall heed, how they have cheated bin
With honest showes, and outward pietie,
When there was little, or nought else, within
But rotten falshood, and hypocrisie,
You would not murmur, as if you had thought,
This Parliament had failed you in ought.

Nay, you their power and prudence would extoll,
Or his great wisdome, rather, and his power,
Whose mercies are exceeding wonderfull,
That, quite you were not ruin'd, ere this houre:
And, marvaile that your Senate could subsist
Another day; if trulie you did know
How manie moneths, a dang'rous Vipers-nest,
Did in the verie bosome of it grow;
Or, if you had a perspective, to see
What Engines are still moving to unfix them;
VVhat failings, yet, in their own Members be,
VVhat foolings, in their fav'rites, to perplex them,
And, what a New Division now they run,
Vnthought on, when this Parliament begun.

For, that divided Clergie, out of whom
(As thou fore-saw'st, and didst, long since, fore-show)

138

The present Plagues upon these Lands are come,
(And by whose factions they will endlesse grow,
If not prevented) have betwixt them got
Another Quarrell, and another Creature,
Of which, the world abroad yet heareth not;
And which, till now, among the things of Nature
Had not a Being. Nay, it hath not yet,
So true a Being (though it hath a name)
That any man may so discover it,
As truly to expresse, or know the same.
For, 'tis not what it was; nor will it stay
To be to morrow, what it is to day.

It is indeed a Thing, which neither had,
Nor shall, nor can have any certaine shape;
A thing, in making still, but never made,
A Card drawne out of some Vtopian-Map,
To make your Pilots steere they know not whither,
Till they arrive at the Antipodes
To saving Truth; or, else be carried thither
By many changing winds, on moving Seas,
Where they shall split upon the rockie shores
Of Heresie; or suffer shipwrack there,
Where melancholy Desperation rores;
Or else, into those Creeks be driven, where
They moored lye in dull Securitie,
Or, land upon a Carnall Libertie.

Your Linsie-woolsie Faction (not appearing
So Jesuited as they are) made use
Of Simon Magus (a bewitching hearing)
And, by that Sorcerer, did late infuse
This fancie, and it hath occasioned
Such diffrence in Opinions, and so rent
Men from each other, that the same hath bred
Obstructions, which disturb the Parlament,
In their proceedings. Yet, your enemie,
By whom this late unlooked for Offence

139

First came, shall not effect his end thereby.
But, they who are to be approv'd, shall thence
Draw Observations, and a pious use
Of meanes unthought on, which will Good produce.

For, at the present, though Offence be given,
And, men of Belial, by Deceiving-lights,
Have, to their pow'r, endeavoured and striven,
To work their ends, by cheating of your sights,
With false appearances, and shewes of Good;
And, though right pious men, who see faire showes,
And, have not yet their purpose understood,
Do, for a little while adhere to those;
Yet, when (by triall, and assisting-Grace)
The bottome of it, fully is discern'd,
The work desired shall be brought to passe:
Yea, by this wrangling, somewhat shall be learn'd,
To bring a prudent Reformation in,
And make it purer than it would have bin.

The Publike Peace, then, interrupt you not,
Nor vex your private spirits, to promove
Those Fancies, which Distemp'rature begot,
And will, at last, not worth your owning prove.
Let not Demetrius, to maintaine his trade,
Make up-roares in the Land; as if more care
Were of his Occupation to be had,
Than, of those things, which of most value are,
But, let Discretion teach you to appease
Tumultuous spirits, by some sweet allay;
Which, peradventure, shall prevaile with these.
Not only, to give eare to what you say;
But, also, for the Truth, to be ere long,
As zealous as they were, to do it wrong.

So foolish be not, as to shut your eyes,
Or stop your eares, from all that seemeth new;
Or, all things, as new fangles, to despise,
Which, at first sight, seeme uselesse, or untrue.

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So furious be not, as to prosecute,
With an uncharitable prosecution,
All those who (in opinion) shall not suit
With Disciplines, of your own Constitution.
Nor, be so mad, as, wholly, to deface
All Superstructures, on the true Foundation,
Which are not uniforme, to that which was;
Or, that which shall be setled in this Nation.
For, to avoid great inconveniences,
Wise-men will beare with inconformities.

Those Doctrines, that make void the Morall-Law;
Those, that the Fundamentalls do infringe
Of saving-faith: Those, that mens hearts withdraw
From Pietie, or, give the flesh her swinge:
Those Disciplines, that breake the bands of Peace;
That interrupt the Civill-Government;
That sleight the meanes of Pieties increase,
Or, courses, that Ill-manners may prevent:
These, are not to be borne with. These, you may,
Nay, these you must, (with all your power) suppresse;
And fine, confine, cut off, or send away,
According as the fault is, more or lesse:
And, so, that you may therewithall improve
GODS praise, the Kingdoms Peace, & Christian love.

And, if that anie one can means propose,
Whereby your duties may be better done;
If anie person, can a truth disclose,
Which hath been clouded, since the Day begun:
If he can tell you, or, believes he can
Informe of anie thing, that may concerne
GODS glorie, or the saving health of man;
And, thinks himselfe (to teach, and you to learn)
Oblig'd in conscience: And, if he shall so
Proceed, (in doing that which he supposeth,
The Will of GOD requireth him to do)
That, no ungodly aime his Course discloseth,

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Or, ought which doth your, Publike-peace annoy;
Why, such a Freedom, should he not enjoy?

If anie man a tender conscience hath,
Which makes him fearfull, to offend the same,
And, therewith walkes in so discreet a Path,
That, he deserveth not a publike-blame,
In anie point aforesaid: Why should he
Be wrought upon, by anie other course
Save that, whereby the heart may wooed be
By Grace, and Faith, and Reason, without Force?
How shall the Gospells passage be so cleare,
As is desir'd, and as thereto is due,
If all men be not free to speake and heare,
On such conditions, as before we shew?
Since, to the Church, compulsion none invites,
But, some few fooles, and manie hypocrites.

Coercive power indeed is to be us'd
In things which to the Outward-man pertaine;
And wherein words or actions have abus'd
Those Lawes, which words or actions, do restraine;
The plots preventing, or the practices,
Which root up those Foundations, whereupon
You are to build up Piety and Peace;
Or, remedie an evill, being done:
Or, for expulsing, or correcting those,
Whose principles, whose practice, and profession,
Doth diametrically, that oppose
Which GOD and Nature, puts in your possession;
As Popelings, or such like, who do resist
Essentially, the Government of CHRIST.

But, he that dreames, by anie Humane-Law,
To force Belief, or bind the Inner-man,
To think, to hope, to love, or stand in awe;
Dreames, to effect, what none accomplish can.
For, this, would be a tyrannie far worse
Then to inslave the bodie. This, doth lay,

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Strong fetters on the Soule; and, would enforce
The Reason, if not, take it quite away.
By this, you, to dissemble, may be brought,
Or, else, to feare: But, never to beleeve,
Or hope, or love aright, or, Change a Thought.
Nay, this would, rather, so inrage and greeve,
As that, in stead of propagating Peace,
Your Quarrells it would ev'rie day increase.

Make then, in things Divine, GODS Word your Law,
In Naturals, let REASON be your Guide;
And, from no Civill-Pow'r obedience draw,
Which doth conformable to these abide.
Heare all; but, give assent to what is best:
Prove all, who in the name of CHRIST shall come;
But, choose that, only, which abides the Test:
And, Truth once found, the same depart not from.
Let no true Principle be chang'd, or shaken,
Let not an ancient Bounder be removed;
Or, Ceremoniall-Precepts be mistaken,
For Moralls; nor a Shaddow be improved
Before the Substance. Quarrell not away
The Essence of Religion, or of Peace,
For Trifles; which, though them enjoy you may,
Will never bring you to that happinesse,
VVhich you expect: And, which will make your sorrow,
No lesse to day, and more, perhaps, to morrow.

Be not so foolish, as to pull downe all,
That was set up before; as if you thought
The Government, because Prelaticall,
VVas not to be adhered to in ought.
For, therein, without question, have remain'd
(Among their vaine Inventions) many things,
VVhich, to the Church, in purest times, pertain'd;
And, whereto, none a just exception brings.
Be not so indiscreet, to sweep out these,
Among their rubbish; or, to take away

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Those Vtensils, or those Indifferences,
Which for conveniencie, still keep you may,
(And edifying too) without abuse;
Or, anie vain or superstitious use.

Be not so sottish, as to think, the Way
Now termed Independent, nothing hath
By which the Throne of CHRIST advance you may,
Depresse his foe, or else prepare his path:
Or, that, GOD may not, yet, some beame reveale,
Or, branch of truth, unto his Church disclose,
Which he hath hitherto kept under-seale;
Or, whereof yet, he scarce a glimmering showes.
Nor, let those whom you Presbyterians name,
Of their own structures be so confident,
As to conceive, there may not to that Frame
Of Discipline, which they to you present,
Additions or substractions, yet, be made,
To make more perfect, that which they have had.

So inconsiderate, let no man grow,
As to believe it ever was intended,
By taking of your Covenant and Vow,
The Scots-Presbyterie should be befriended
Without respect, to whatsoever might
Be found, upon due triall, to accord
With those instructions, which to set you right,
GOD giveth, in the Canon of his WORD:
Nor, misconceive you so that noble Nation,
As to suppose, they think their Church is growne
To such perfection in true Reformation,
That, thereon, nothing more may be bestowne:
Or, that, they come to set you one way free,
That, you, another way, inslav'd might be.

Mistake not so their pietie and love;
But, be assured that what you and they
Vpon deliberate advise may prove,
To be the safe, unquestionable way

144

Wherein you ought to walk; that they will joyne,
(VVhether unto the Civill-Peace it tends,
Or, unto Doctrine, or to Discipline)
As your affectionate, and faithfull Friends.
Nor, let them so mistake you, or these times,
Of publike Visitations, as to dreame,
That either private weaknesses, or crimes,
Shall hinder GODS intended work, in them:
But, let both Nations labour to excell,
In right beleeving, and in doing well.

The way to Peace is rather to be just,
And faithfull in your selves, and to rely
On GOD; than to suspect, or to distrust,
Or quarrell with anothers honestie.
The way to Peace, is downe along the Vales
Of Meeknesse, leaving quite behind your backs
The hils of Pride, and those partition wals,
VVhich Selfe-conceitednesse, and Selfe-love makes.
The way of Peace, is to examine more
Your owne Offences, and your neighbours lesse;
To learne more Charitie than heretofore;
To be in Deed, what you in Word professe;
And not to strive who long'st shall keep the field,
Against the Truth; but, who shall soonest yeeld.

Thus far, is this Discourse, now, carried on,
That, it may shew both what is pertinent
To Outward Peace, and what is to be done,
The losse of inward quiet to prevent.
For, as there be False lights, of late, set out,
VVhich give occasion unto some to wander
In giddie paths, to make some also doubt,
VVhere is no cause; or, else to bring a slander
On sacred Verities; ev'n so, there are
True-lights, of late discover'd, which long since
By evill-meaning Builders, stopped were:
And, they who would nor give, nor take offence,

145

Must learn, more perfectly, to understand
(Then yet they do) those things they take in hand.

Desire of Vniformitie, doth carrie
So great a sway with some, as if it were
Vnto the Church of CHRIST, as necessarie
As VNITIE, or, did the same appear.
But, they are wide: For as within a pallace,
There may be more conveniency, more state,
More beautie, and more pleasure for the solace
Of him that builds it, when there are, in that,
Some equall Structures; higher some, some lower,
Some pyramids, some flats, some rounds, some squares,
With here a single, there a double tower,
And such like, as in Princely Piles appears;
So, in the Church, true comlinesse, may be,
And Vnion, without uniformitie.

Nay discords, do not generally marre
Essentiall unity: For, as you finde
Some notes, which sounded, by themselves, do jarre,
Make up, when they are musically joyn'd,
A perfect Diapason: so, may they
The unitie of love, and faith retain,
Who walke not uniformly in the way,
Yet, on the true foundation, fixt remain.
And, as for those poore creatures, who through pride,
And ignorance, have now impostumations
Of fancie broken in them, which they void
At mouth, upon the sillie Congregations
Collected by them; be not discontent
That, they with others, their corruptions vent.

For, such like bubbles, still, were wont to rise
In such disordered times: And, they will fall
Of their own selves. The wind that yet supplies
Their tumour, when Peace coms, quite break them shall.
The Devill of their proud simplicitie,
Makes use, at present, to delude that rabble,

146

Which are in love with their owne vanitie,
And, in the waies of Pietie unstable.
Because, a Prudent-Preaching wonders wrought,
And Carnall wisdome judg'd it Foolishnesse;
By foolish preaching, these have, therefore, thought,
Their Arrogancie shall prevaile no lesse;
But, GOD, when they repent, will free these Nations,
From all such failings, and Infatuations.

Observe this well, and, in true patience, beare
With one another, till God shall make knowne,
To what intent these broiles permitted are;
And, let your discontents be rather showne,
Vpon the Common Foe: Yea, do your best,
(Whilst you have meanes) to settle outward Peace,
According to your pow'r; and, for the rest,
Depend on GOD, who sees the faithfulnesse
Of ev'rie Soule: And, suffer not vaine jars,
Among your selves, to multiply contention;
Lest you, thereby, both make these present wars,
To bring forth an incurable dissention;
And, hinder (as you have already done)
That Work, which God, among you, hath begun.

Such differences, obstructions have begot
Retarding Peace. But, doubtlesse, for the same,
To your great Senate, there belongeth not
An imputation of the smallest blame.
Nor, were it faultie, though it could be said,
And proved too, that some among them, now,
Their weightie consultations had betrai'd,
And, to your Foes, their secrets daily show.
Nor, ought they to be blamed, though you see
A Spider sent among them, for an Ant;
A Butterfly, or Hornet, for a Bee;
Or, those that wit, or honestie, do want:
For such, when they are found, they still cast from them,
With as much forwardnesse, as doth become them.

147

But, they, they only, do deserve the blame,
Of all those falshoods, which these Lands disease)
Those brainlesse fellowes, who had so small shame,
And little grace, to make their choice of these:
Those (falsly termed) free-men, who, for porredge,
Would sell their birth-right; and, who, to uphold
Their lawfull freedomes, have not so much courage,
As to maintaine them, though they see they could.
They, whom a pettie Justice, by the nose,
May lead to what absurdities he pleases;
And, make them think, he favour to them showes,
When he their losse, and slaveries increases;
These, and their fellow Burgers, have undone you;
Their slavishnes, hath brought these plagues upon you.

These, to the House of Commons, sent that Rabble
Of Runawayes, and Traytours, which betrai'd
Your liberties, as much as they were able:
And, on their heads, the bloud is justly laid,
For what you suffer. These were, first, unjust,
In sending in, to be their Deputies,
In stead of men, Pride, Avarice, and Lust,
Oppression, Folly, Fraud, and Vanities.
These, having neither honestie, nor wit,
Nor care to make a prudent choice of those,
To whom so great a Trust, they should commit,
Some persons, for the publike service, chose,
So like themselves; that, wonder it is none,
To see so many do, as they have done.

For, such a choice they passed, that unlesse
Some prudent Boroughs, and some wiser Shires
Had made elections with more warinesse,
And sent brave spirits forth, to ballance these,
You had been quite undone; and you, and yours,
Of all the Christian world had been the scorne;
Perpetuall Bond-slaves to malignant Pow'rs;
And, hated of your children, yet unborne:

148

For, ever, therefore, let that providence
Which so provided for you, be renown'd:
And, let there be a blessed difference
On them, and on their seed, for ever found,
To honour them, and mark them out from those,
Who to the publike welfare, now, are foes.

And, let your Burgers, and Free-holders learn
In time to come, how much, how neare it may
The publike, and their private weale concern,
To be advis'd, on whom their trust they lay:
For, what is more unsafe or more unwise
Then to commit (as manie times they do)
Their goods, their persons, liberties, and lives,
Yea, and the meanes of their salvations too,
To their disposures, whom they rather fear,
Then well affect? of whom no good they know?
Of whose corruptions, frequently, they hear,
Of whose injustice, sinsible they grow?
Whose worths, are their revenue? and whose wit
Is meere formalitie, or nev'r-a-whit?

What can be more absurd, then to suppose
They are the wisest men in all the Shire,
And fit'st for publike service, to be chose,
Who wisest, in their own opinions are?
Who come uncall'd, and shuffle out their choice
By suit and friends, or having got, perchance,
The overplus of one poore single voice,
With much ado, their purpose to advance?
Or, what a greater indiscretion showes,
Then to elect for Giver of your Lawes,
A fellow, that nor Law, nor Gospell knowes?
Nor difference, 'twixt a good, and evill cause?
And, till that day, pursued no other course
But, hunting, hawking, or else somwhat worse?

What, more dishonourable can be thought,
Then, to your Court and Senate most supreme,

149

(For which the worthiest persons should be sought)
To send a foole or knave, to sit with them,
Whose reverend presence should not be polluted
With such companions? or, what one thing may
A truer signe of madnesse be reputed,
Then thus to foole their dignitie away?
For, since they cannot their debates decide,
But by most Voices, what else will ensue,
(If manie places, be with such suppli'd)
But, those events, which all the Land will rue,
When worst designes, are by the most promoted,
And, reason shall, by noise, be over-voted?

There never was a time, in which you ought
To be more carefull of your choice then now,
If you recruit your House: For, men are taught
By this long Parliament, so well to know
Each others minde, each others interest
And inclination; that, unlesse you see
The number wanting, in due time increast,
And made compleat, by men that worthie be;
You will be as assuredly undone,
As if the King had tyranniz'd; nay, more:
For, to oppresse you, there had been but one,
But, then, you shall, perhaps, have many a score.
And therefore, as you here fore-warned are,
In your elections, use more prudent care.

Thy Letters of Advice, ere while directed
To those in whom the choice of these doth lie,
Have partly signifi'd what was effected;
And, what events will still ensue thereby,
While such are chosen; And, what Caveats ought
To be observed, that a better choice
May be hereafter; and, that men be sought
Who wit and conscience have, aswell as voice.
For, these defects breed vip'rous wormes within
The verie bowells of the Parliament,

150

More dangerous then outward foes have bin.
And, if the Members wanting, be not sent
With better heed, then heretofore you tooke;
For peace embracing truth, in vain you looke.

Let therefore, those true Patriots which are left,
Put forth a strong endeavour to compleat
Their wasted number, e're they are bereft
Of power, and meanes, themselves to re-beget
Into a perfect bodie. And, let none
By fallacies delude you, with a feare,
It may not now as legally be done,
As when the Members first convented were,
For, that they are a lawfull Parliament,
(Although the King be absent) 'tis confest
Ev'n by the King: In whom, now to prevent
Their being so, the power doth not consist,
Nor ever did, of right; while cause you know,
Why SALVS POPVLI, should have it so.

Believe it, whosoever shall pretend
This Parliament, hath not a legall power
Her bodie to recruit; is no true friend,
Nor fit to be a Councellour of your.
For, seeing they have power to make a Seale,
It were a great absurditie to dreame,
They had not legally, a power, aswell
To use, as make it. And, if you in them,
Allow an use thereof, that private men,
The benefit of justice might obtain;
It should much rather be allowed, then,
In things, which to the Publike-right pertaine:
And, most especially, in all affaires
Concerning their own being, and repaires.

If really, a Parliament they be
As (without peradventure) they are One,
Then, without limitation they are feee
To do, what may by Parliaments be done.

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And, that is, ev'rie reasonable thing
Which to their weale and safety may belong;
(And their abilitie to passe may bring)
If to Divinity, it be no wrong.
And, whosoe're, in these extremities,
Perswade, that they should take upon them lesse;
Vnto the publike peace, are enemies:
Yea, they deferre, or marre your happinesse,
By weakning of their hands, who are your friends;
And, strengthening his, who now your spoile intends.

Let them not therefore act, as if they had
But halfe a power, or seemed to be lame;
Or, as if they a Parliament were made,
To be no more, but only, so in name.
With prudent conscience, and with confidence,
Let them proceed in what they undertake;
And, in what e're pertaines to their defence,
On just resolves, let them no haltings make,
Through want of presidents: For, power they have
To make new presidents, as well as they
Who liv'd before them. And, if they will save
Their Countrie and themselves, this is the way:
Since, in an extarordinarie Cause,
True Reason, binds as firmly, as the Lawes.

And, though it greatly grieve you (as it ought)
Yet suffer not the absence of the King,
To foole you, with so frivolous a thought,
As that, a diminution it may bring
To their authority. For, wheresoe're
He bideth, when his Parliament shall sit,
The Kingship, vertually, is alwaies there,
And cannot possibly divide from it.
The Person of a King, may ramble forth,
As his own fancie hurries him about,
Or do things derogating from his worth,
Or die, or from the Kingdome be cast out;

152

And, yet the Kingdome, and the Kingship too,
Continue still, as they were wont to do.

The life of Bodies-naturall, indeed,
Departs out of them, when their head is gone;
And, thereunto, no other can succeed,
To make it live, or, not a headlesse-one.
So 'tis not in this Bodie-politike:
The vitalls of it in the body lie,
Not in that head-ship: and, though it be sick
When that falls from it, yet, it doth not die.
A King, is but a substituted-head,
Made for conveniencie: And, if thereby
The bodie seem to be indangered,
(If Power it hath) it hath Authoritie
To take one off, and set another on;
Aswell, as, at the first, to make it one.

And when that Body shall be represented,
As this hath been, according to the Law,
Or, shall be by necessity convented;
Therein resides, that Soveraignty, that Awe,
And Rule, whereto the Lawes of GOD and nature
Injoyne obedience; and not in that thing
Corrupted; which was but that Creatures creature,
And, which to serve it, was first made a King.
When, therefore, GOD injoynes you to obey
And honour Kings; these duties, are not meant
To those who from their Kingships run away;
But, rather, to th'essentiall Government
Of whatsoever kind, by Law ordain'd;
Or, by a strong necessity constrain'd.

For, were it otherwise, the pride, and lust
Of an injurious Arbitrary power,
Would all men out of their possessions thrust,
And all the freedomes of mankind devoure.
Let therefore, neither fear nor flattery,
Prescription, or vaine custome, make you cleave

153

Vnto an accidentall Majesty,
And, that which is substantiall, quite to leave.
At this time, chieflie, take a speciall care
(As, of what verie much conduceth to
Your Peace and Safety) that, as now things are,
Your just advantages you let not goe;
Lest, by a faint, and cowardly endeavour,
You loose your freedoms, and be slaves for ever.

And, yet take heed, that zeal to Innovations,
Nor private fears, nor hopes incline your minde
To subjugate these Kingdoms, or these Nations,
To Governments of anie other kind.
But, rather use your utmost diligence
To rectifie those things which are amisse
In that which is establish'd: and, from thence
Cast out or purge, whatever therein is
Repugnant to those Charters, which by grace
Or nature were confer'd: And, let your care
Be so to settle it, that place you make
The Throne of CHRIST, among you, up to reare;
Lest, when his Kingdome comes, you els be fain
To pull your new-devices down again.

Take likewise heed, that you no meanes neglect,
Whereby the King may be reclaim'd and won,
GODS honour, with your safetie to respect;
And do the duties, he hath left undone.
For, by rejecting him, how just soe're
The Causes be; you shall delay the peace,
Which is desir'd: And make your quarrell, here,
With much more difficultie to decrease:
But, if your industrie shall win him home,
And, he return sincerely to his charge,
It shall a blessing to these Isles become;
Your honour, and your joy it shall inlarge,
And, as CHRISTS Vice-Roy, he shall sit upon
A righteous, and an everlasting Throne,

154

Walk, therefore, prudently in this straight path,
And, turn not to the left hand, or the right.
That pow'r, which GOD to you committed hath,
Improve for him, according to your might;
Him, in the reasonable-meanes attend
With Faith, and Patience; that, he may, at last,
Your King new-moulded, back unto you send,
Or, him, out of his ruin'd Kingdome cast.
If, possibly, he can his course repent,
GOD, will restore him, yet. If you amend,
Then, all these Troubles, and this grievous Rent,
Shall in true Peace, and sweet agreements end.
If both conforme; Both, shall true Peace enjoy:
If both be wilfull, GOD, shall both destroy.

But, heark! my Scribe, I heare a dreadfull crie
Of wounded men; and, therewith, as it were,
The shouts of those that have a Victorie,
Of much concernment. Therefore, go and heare,
What now is done: For, somewhat hath been wrought,
From whence, if well it shall improved be,
Enlargements of those meanes will forth be brought,
Which may effect, what thou desir'st to see.
As soone as thou hast Information had,
Of what is rumoured, and duly weigh'd,
What profitable uses may be made
Of that, which either hath been done, or said:
Retire thou hither, and give eare, again,
To that, which to your Peace, doth appertaine.

155

The fourth Canto.

When from attention to that Silent-tongue,
Which, without words, reveales what you have heard,
I came abroad; the Streets, and Temples rung
Of Victories: and, Signalls there appear'd,
Not only, of a valiant Resolution,
In those that conquer'd; but, of some divine
Disposure of them, too, for execution
Of that, which GOD himselfe, did fore-designe.
The scornfull Adversaries rushed on,
To Policie, and Strength, themselves commending.
The LORD of Hosts, our Friends reli'd upon,
With Prayers fighting, and with Faith defending:
And, lo, GOD gave their Foes into their hand:
For, when he fighteth, who can then withstand?

156

The Victorie was great, and ev'rie one
Observ'd what circumstances pleas'd him best;
But, that, my thoughts did most insist upon,
(Which others, peradventure, minded least.)
These Royall-Ensignes from the Field were brought,
The Lion-Rampant, and the Dragon-flying,
The Roses, and Portcullis; which, me thought,
Were Pledges, future Mercie signifying.
And, so, no doubt, they shall be, if that Race,
To which GOD calleth us, we now shall run;
And better heed the tokens of his Grace,
And, Earnests of his love, than we have done.
For, valiant Fairfax, now, hath sent us home,
In Hieroglyphick, signes of things to come.

The Ramping-Lion, (which doth signifie
A Raging-Tyrant) may an Earnest be,
That, GOD will from oppressing Tyrannie,
Vpon our Good-abearing, set us free.
A Dragon, is that most prodigious Beast,
Whereby the Holy-Ghost hath typifi'd
That Foe, by whom the Saints are most opprest;
And, by whom, daily, they are crucifi'd.
The taking of that Ensigne, may fore-shew,
That (if we faithfully the work endeavour)
The pow'r of Antichrist we shall subdue,
And, from these Islands, cast his Throne for ever.
Vouchsafe us pow'r, ô GOD! vouchsafe us Grace,
To drive him, and his Angels, from this Place.

The winning of the Roses, doth declare,
That GOD will to those honours us restore,
Wherewith he crown'd us, when in peace, and war,
We on our Crest, those lovely Flowers wore.
Their blushing Beauties are, to me, a signe,
Of that delightfull, and soule-pleasing grace,
Which will make lovely our Church-Discipline,
When GOD hath chang'd our Discords, into Peace.

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The sweetnesse, and the vertues of the Rose,
Do seeme to promise to us those effects,
And fruit, which from internall Graces flowes;
Yea, and their prickles are, in some respects,
Significant; for, I by them fore-see,
That his corrections, alwayes, needfull be.

By taking their Portcullis from the Foe,
It may portend (and if with penitence,
We prosecute the Work, it shall be so)
That, we have taken from them their defence.
It may betoken also, that GODS hand
Will bar our Gates, and make our Citie strong,
And, by his Mercie, fortifie the Land,
Against all them, who seek to do us wrong.
But, for a surer token of his Grace,
GOD sends us home, among the spoiles of War,
That Cabinet of Mischiefe, wherein was
The proofe, of what our Foes intentions are:
And, that, their projects, GOD will still disclose,
And foole their Policies, this Prize fore-showes.

I then observed, in that Victorie,
(Wherewith GODS hand, at that time, magnifi'd
The Peoples-Tribune) how much vanitie
Is in the Arme of flesh, and vaunts of pride.
And, with what good successe, he shall advance,
Who seconded with Meeknesse, Faith, and Pray'r,
Doth fight against the rage of Arrogance,
Of Guilt, of Selfe-Dependence, and Despaire.
I, furthermore observed, that this stroke
Was given, by a Hand contemn'd of those,
On whom it fell; and, that their strength it broke.
When, to themselves, great hopes they did propose:
Yea, when they seem'd assured of our fall;
And thought to ruine, and devoure us all.

And, they received that amazing-blow,
From those Vnited-Brethren, whom they thought,

158

Their policies had dis-united so,
That, ruine on themselves, it should have brought.
But, this, by their agreement, GOD prevented;
And gave that victorie to be a signe,
That, if we shall hereafter be contented,
In love, against the Common-Foe to joyne;
And, trust him with our Conscience, and our Cause;
We, by that blessed union, shall subdue
Th'opposers of our Liberties, and Lawes;
And feel the droppings of Mount-Sions dew
Be sprinkling all these Islands, with increase
Of saving-knowledge, joyn'd with endlesse peace.

I mustred up, the manie black-events,
The manie jealousies, and new-made factions.
The discontentments, and discouragements,
The frights, the losses, dangers and distractions
That might have follow'd, and o're-whelm'd us all,
If but that day, our spoilers had prevail'd;
If on that day, GOD had not heard us call,
If on that day, to help us he had fail'd.
And I desire, that we could thanks expresse
For such deliv'rances, aswell, in deed,
As in a Verball-form of thankfulnesse;
That, GOD might alwaies our devotions heed,
And answere us, when in distresse we pray,
As he our prayers answered, that day.

My heart rejoyced much in that salvation,
Because, I knew it greater then it seem'd;
And, that it wrappeth up a preservation,
To few men knowne; of fewer men esteem'd.
So much, I joy not in the victorie,
As in that good, whereto it may conduce:
For, in GODS Judgments, as much joy have I,
As in his Mercies, when I see their use.
I laugh not, as when I have outward ease,
When I do feel GODS hand correcting me:

159

Yet, inwardly, it comforts, and doth please
As much, as when more glad I seeme to be.
And, more I feare a failing, on my part,
When I am most at ease, than when I smart.

And, I have seene, so frequently, a failing,
In prosecuting publike executions;
And, such neglects (upon a small prevailing)
Of good Designes, and prudent Resolutions.
With such a dull proceeding in pursuit
Of those advantages, which GOD bestowes:
And find them, still, produce so little fruit
In substance, answerable to their showes;
That, when I should expresse my joyfulnesse,
With such a sense as other entertaine:
A melancholly doth my soule oppresse,
As if it fear'd my joy would be in vaine;
But, at that time, some better hopes I had,
And, in those hopes, my Prayer thus I made.

Eternall GOD! as mercifull, as just,
And, of both these the Essence in perfection:
Thou know'st my heart, and know'st I nor distrust
Thy Pow'r, thy Providence, or thy Affection;
Though outwardly I do not much rejoyce,
It is not an unthankefulnesse to thee,
That sads my Soule, or silenceth my Voyce,
Whiles others tuning Hymnes of Praises be.
For, oft, my heart, invokes thee all the day;
Aloud to thee, my Spirit often cryes,
When, with my mouth, I not a word can say,
When not a teare will trickle from mine eyes:
And, though I neither pray, nor praise thee, then,
As I am bound; I do it as I can.

Thy mercies I confesse, and am as glad
Of Thee, and them, this day, as he that sings;
Yet, when I mind what use of them is made,
And, what effects from thy compassion springs,

160

It mars my mirth: And therefore, now, in stead
Of their thanksgiving Psalmes, I sacrifice
My heart in Prayer; which, vouchsafe to heed,
And, do not LORD, my humble suits despise.
For, if thou grant them, it shall praise thee more,
Thanif that favour, by ten thousand tongues,
Were, at this present time, repeated o're,
And celebrated in a thousand songs.
That hath begot thee, one Thanksgiving-day.
But, this, shall make thee praised, here, for aye.

The many Mercies, LORD, I do confesse,
Which, by thy Bountie, we have here enjoy'd,
And, do acknowledge, with all thankefulnesse,
That, ere this day, we had been all destroy'd,
Vnlesse thy Goodnesse, and thy Providence,
Had curb'd the furie of the raging Foe;
Yea, thy Abounding-love was our defence,
Or, we had, else, been our owne overthrow.
From thy free favour, and preventing-grace,
It doth proceed, that our despised Host
Fled not before their Adversaries face;
Or, fell not by them, who the field have lost:
And, that, the Joyes which now our Citie hath,
Are not, this day, in Askalon, and Gath.

But, what will these prevailings be, at last,
If Grace thou, likewise, give not to pursue
Those victories, which thou bestowed hast;
And, to improve the mercie thou didst shew?
What will our sad rejoycings, at the length,
And bloudy enterchanges, prove, O LORD?
But, an impairing of our native strength,
To make a passage for the Forraine-sword?
And, what from our divisions, and the spoiles,
Torne daily from each other, can arise,
But utter devastation of these Iles?
And, (which is worse than forraine enemies)

161

Selfe-murthers? Or, perhaps, a Dearth so great,
That, men shall kill each other for their meat?

Such things have been; and such, for ought I see,
May here befall us, ere these wars be done,
If, thou permit our cruelties, to be
As wilfully pursued, as begun.
Thy judgements teach us, therefore, LORD, to feare;
So, make us, thy forbearances to weigh;
So, let thy kindnesses our hearts prepare,
That, we no longer foole our Peace away.
Let not the sighs, the prayers, and the cries
Of thy afflicted children, be in vaine.
Behold, how desolate their dwelling lies;
Look on their wounds, observe how they are slaine;
How many, of their Fathers, are bereft!
How many widowes, desolate are left!

Or, if this move thee not, mark how the Foe
Blasphemes thy Name: See, with what height of pride
Against thy Truth, his malice he doth show,
And, how thy holy things he doth deride.
Mark, what damn'd Oaths, and curses forth they roare,
And, with what lyes and slanders they do wrong us:
Mark, how they scorne the counsels of the poore,
And, to betray us, how they lurk among us.
Mark, how they play the hypocrites, array'd
Sometime, like Bosome-Friends; sometime disguis'd
With outward Sanctitie, while snares are layd,
That, unawares thy Saints may be surpriz'd:
And, let not us, who in thy Truth have joy'd,
By those, who persecute it, be destroy'd.

If not on us, yet, LORD, compassion take
On those that shall out of our loynes descend;
If not for our, yet, for thine Honour-sake,
To these destroying times, impose an end.
Ev'n for the sake of thy Beloved-One,
Who, through our sides, is wounded by our Foes,

162

Behold, what spoyles, what mischieves they have done,
And help us, ere our sorrow helplesse growes.
Teach us to see, and know, how miserable
We are, and may be, if we persevere,
As we begun; informe us how unable
We are to save our selves, from what we feare:
And, to consider, too, how worthlesse, we
Are of that mercie, which I beg of thee.

Vaine is the help of Armies, Foot, or Horse;
Vaine is the pow'r of Nations, and of Kings;
Vaine is united policie, and force;
Vaine is the aid of all terrestriall things:
Thou makest War; thou only makest Peace,
And, out of nothing, canst create the same;
Nay, out of that, which discords doth encrease,
An everlasting Concord thou canst frame.
Although the people, like huge waters, rage;
The mountaines, yea, these Islands moved be;
Thou, in a moment, canst the storme asswage,
And, make all quiet, when it pleaseth thee.
O LORD! command a Calme, command a Peace,
That our unnaturall debates may cease.

To us be reconcil'd, and (to begin
That reconcilement) let us so endeavour,
To breake the league, which we have made with sin,
That Thou, and We, may now be friends for ever.
Make, for us, an Atonement with our King,
Let him perceive, in what his course will end:
What Mischeeves evill Counsellours do bring,
What Vengeance doth on Tyranny attend.
Give him both sight, and sense, of that huge floud,
Which threatens daily, to o'rewhelme his head;
That roaring torrent, nay, that sea of bloud,
Which, in these Iles, hath wilfully been shed.
And, with his wronged, and enraged Nations,
Make thou, for him, his Reconciliations.

163

His heart, is in thy hand; and, if thou please,
Thou canst returne him to us, wholly changed.
Thou canst yet make us mutually, with ease,
As deare, as if we had not been estranged.
Thou that restor'dst Manasseh, canst restore
Him to Himselfe, to Vs, and to thy Grace:
And, it may glorifie thy goodnesse more,
Than to advance another in his place.
Yea, and for us, it shall be better too,
If, with a true forgivenesse of each other,
We, that have lately been divided so,
Shall lovingly unite againe together.
For, what more sweet, than when unkindnesse ends,
In reconciling of divided friends?

Thou know'st, O GOD! that we have no desire,
To take from Him, or His, the Royall Throne,
Or, pull it lower; but, to raise it higher,
And, set him, rather, faster thereupon.
Thou know'st, that though his courses we abhor,
We love his Person, and would faine prevent
That mischiefe, which he seemes to labour for.
By hunting after his owne detriment.
If, by his wilfulnesse, that bloud be spilt,
Which we would save; of them require it, LORD!
Who make him to be Patron of their guilt;
Or, bring him within danger of the Sword:
And, keep us, and our children, ever cleare,
From all the bloud, that shall be spoyled, here.

And, as for me, whom our Opposers blame,
As having my first principles forsaken,
(Because I, now, against the Royall-Name,
With Reall-Majestie, a part have taken)
Thou know'st my heart, had never an intent,
The Shadow, for the Substance, to adore:
And, that if I, so foolishly had meant,
Discretion, bids me so to think no more.

164

A Single-Person, or a Factious Rabble,
The King, by Armes, opposing, acteth Treason;
But, Kingdomes joyn'd by Counsells-warrantable,
Against a Tyrant, do the work of Reason.
Yea, 'tis the hand of GOD, that strikes him, then,
Although he doth it by the sword of men.

Thou know'st, O GOD! that, not a hand of our
Is rais'd against his Person, or his Seed;
Or, to diminish any Royall pow'r,
Which to discharge his Office he may need.
Or, for due honour. But, we, rather, fight
(As he would know, if undeceiv'd he were)
To save his Dignitie, to do him right,
And, keep him from Destructions drawing neare.
Thou know'st, we no offensive War intended;
Nor, armed came, for any private Cause;
But, as our dutie binds, to have defended
Thy Truth, our Countrie's Liberties, and Lawes:
And, to remove the wicked from the Throne,
That, he may rule, with righteousnesse, thereon.

And, though to fright us from this dutie, LORD,
The sons of Belial, whom we pursue,
Cast termes on us, which better do accord
With their proceedings, as to them most due:
Yet, thou canst witnesse, that we called are,
And, come in true obedience to that Pow'r,
Of which, He but the name doth only weare;
Whilst he abuseth his owne Rights, and our:
Thou know'st his Wilfulnesse doth us compell
(Since nor his Parl'aments, Thy Lawes, nor His,
Nor, other course prevailes) now to appeale
(In that, which at this time, depending is)
To thy Arbitrement: and, that, the Sword
May to our differences, an end afford.

Wherein, we pray thee, passo thy Sentence so,
That, in thy Judgements, Mercy may abound;

165

Lest, though but small Severity thou show,
The innocentest party, may be found
Unable to abide it. For, mine eye,
Which only can behold the scum, or skin,
Of our Corruptions (and not much espie
Of those Pollutions, which lie hid within)
Perceives the best so faulty; that, by thee,
If so put off this Bloodie-Triall were,
That, we might, now, some other way, agree:
It would the safest course, for both, appear.
But, LORD, thy will be done, though it be that,
Which flesh and blood, most feares and trembles at.

For, who, that loves thy Attributes and Thee,
And sees how they are sleighted? who, that viewes,
How impudently broke thy Precepts be,
How spightfully thy foes thy friends abuse;
And, how presumptuosly this age goes on,
(Ev'n while th'avenging Angell is abroad)
To do as wickedly as it hath done,
Without regard of man, or feare of GOD?
Yea, who, that loves thine honour, grudgeth now
Thy saving of it? or, who wisheth good
Vnto thy Saints, who grieveth to allow
Thy Justice, in avengement of their blood?
Or, who can thinke thy judgements have exceeded,
That hath our great offences duly heeded?

I do confesse, thy coming to this Nation
In these unlook'd-for Judgements, maketh it
To be a sharp and dreadfull visitation
To those, that in security did sit,
And, liv'd at ease. But, they who long have born
The violent oppressions of thy Foes,
The insolence of Tyrants, and their scorn,
At thy approaches, tremble not, like those:
For, their Deliverer, and Friend appears,
And, therefore, though we stand in awe of thee,

166

It is with conjugall, and filiall fears,
Mixt with whose tartnesse, sweetnesses there be:
Yea, though thy judgments, fright us, when we hear them
Yet, LORD, we love them, more then we do fear them.

Whilest thus, or unto such effects I prai'd,
And meditated, by my selfe alone,
The VOICE began to speak again, and said;
Thy GOD observeth, what thou musest on,
And will not faile thy hopes, if thou believe,
And persevere. For, he is readier farre,
His blessings, and his benefits to give,
Then, they, who want them, to desire them are.
And, when he doth deny them, or prolong them,
It is not out of backwardnesse in him,
To condescend; but, that you might not wrong them,
Or entertain them with a sleight esteem.
Most, little prize good things, till much they cost,
Few, know their happinesse, till it be lost.

You may perceive, by that, which GOD hath wrought
For these afflicted Isles, in their distresse;
By manie things, which he to passe hath brought,
When mischiefes were, almost, beyond redresse:
By those diliv'rances, which you have had,
When to the brink of ruine you were come;
By those escapes, which he for you hath made,
From plots, which none but he could save you from;
Yea, see you may be his oft freeing you,
When, carelesly, advantages you lose;
And by that mercie, which he sheweth, now,
That, he would soone secure you from your Foes,
Could you so mind, what doth to you belong,
That, mercie might not do his justice wrong.

Alas! he takes no pleasure in your cries,
By your afflictions he can reap no good;
Your wounds, are not delightfull to his eyes,
Nor joyes he in the shedding of your blood.

167

He better likes of Feasts, then Fasting-dayes,
If you could use them, to your more availe,
Your mournings would not please, like songs of praise,
If you had fewer failings to bewaile.
He is not such a cruell GOD, as manie,
Blasphemouslie, have fained him to be,
Delighted in the death, or griefe, of anie;
But, Love, and Joy essentiallie is he:
And, gave his Dearest to be crucifi'd.
A saving-health for sinners to provide:

Of him, if peace you rightlie seek, believe it,
He will vouchsafe it, when you shall appeare
A people qualified to receive it:
And, to expect it sooner, vaine it were.
Your pride is not, as yet, enough abated,
Your wisdom, is not, yet, enough befooled,
Your own deservings, are, yet, over-rated,
You, by the rod, are not, yet, throughly schooled.
You have some ayerie Castles, yet, in building,
Some false dependencies, yet, undestroy'd,
Some groundlesse hopes, not to despaire, yet, yeelding,
Some lusts, and some vaine pleasures, yet injoy'd:
And, manie such obstructions, making, yet,
These Kingdoms, for that happinesse, unfit.

Your lofty minds, must, first, be stooped lower,
Your separations, must draw, somwhat, nigher,
Your Formes of godlinesse, must get more power,
Your base affections must be lifted higher:
Your headstrong wilfulnesse, must more be tamed,
Your Anchor, must with deeper hold, be grounded,
Your Charity, must farther be inflamed,
Your Faith, must on the rock, be better founded.
Your selves, must, by your selves, be more deni'd,
More care of publike duties must be took;
Your wanton flesh must more be mortifi'd,
And, for your sins, your hearts must more be broke,

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E're these afflicted Isles will repossesse
A safe, a reall, and a lasting peace.

Delude you not your selves, with guilefull showes;
For, when they promise most, they most deceive.
To win, is, manie times, the way to lose:
And, Victories, of safety may bereave.
Security, may lose you, in a day,
What, watchfulnesse was gaining, many years;
And, in a moment, GOD may take away
Your greatest strength, when strongest it appears.
Were now, your adversaries in your power;
Were not a dog, to barke against you, left,
And, Peace confirm'd; you might, within an houre,
Of all that happinesse, be quite bereft.
Yea, and it should be lost again, e're long,
Vnlesse, on better tearmes, you made it strong.

Vpon the justnesse of the Cause, some trust;
But, that, a vain dependence may be found:
For, if they, who defend it, be unjust,
A righteous Cause, may fall unto the ground.
The Jewes did flie before the Canaanites,
While but one Achan, in their Camp, remain'd;
They fell before the wicked Benjamites,
While, their impenitencie they retain'd.
Some think, because the Word of Truth, is here,
GODS Ordinances, and his holy-things,
That, you a priviledged people are:
But, no securitie, at all, this brings:
It, rather, calls for vengeance on that place,
Which answers not, in fruits, their meanes of grace.

The Arke, it selfe, from Israel, was borne,
And, they who kept it, slaughtered, for their sin;
Ev'n GODS own House was ra'zd, and made a scorne,
And, they inthral'd, who served him therein.
GOD, for his Temples sake, spar'd not oppressions,
Nor, for that Worship which they did professe:

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But, them he turned out of their possessions,
For acting sin, in cloakes of holinesse.
Do you suppose, that, GOD, will for the sake
Of those few righteous men, that, yet, remaine,
The present troubles from these Islands take,
And, settle all things here, in peace, again?
How can you such a benefit expect,
Till righteous men, you better do affect.

If you, by them, such blessings may enjoy,
Why are you not, to those, more faithfull friends?
Why seek you to undo, or, to destroy
Those men, on whom your weale so much depends?
Though, for their sakes, you reap, at other times,
Great benefit; and often are secur'd,
From publike mischiefes; yet, there have been crimes,
For which, this priviledge is not procur'd.
Though Noah, Job, and Daniel, interceded
At such a season, grace should not be showne:
They should not get a pardon, when they pleaded,
For anie soules offending, but their own.
And, so it may be, for ought yet, you know,
With everie unrepentant sinner, now.

Some, of you, have a hope, as vain as this,
Another way; for, manie men suppose
To be secured, by the wickednesse,
And crying sins, of their blasphemous Foes.
But, Edom did Jerusalem suppresse,
Although the former had transgressed more:
The Saints, although their errors may be lesse,
Are daily murther'd by the Scarlet-Whore.
GODS Magazine, hath punishments enow,
To seize on all at once, that him offend;
He Scorpions hath for them, and Rods for you,
And, both will scourge, if both do not amend.
He, as he lifts, can make you whip each other;
Or, spare the one, or, punish both together.

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Indeed, a Kingdomes laying-wast, hath bin,
And, is sometimes, deferred for the sakes
Of righteous men, inhabiting therein:
But, that, but little for the safety makes,
Of Individuall sinners. For, you see,
They, by the Sword, are pick'd out everie day,
Their habitations daily ruin'd be.
And their posterities are swept away.
Yea, when, quite round them, all the neighbourhood
Stands unimpaired, they are somtime seized,
That, others may observe it, for their good,
Or, that GODS wrath may, thereby, be appeased:
And, otherwhile, the just are taken from
A wicked-place, to scape the plagues to come.

But, what, or whom, need you suspect, or feare,
Though both your Horse & Foot, this day were routed?
Of your own selves, you well-conceited are
Of your own courses, nothing is mis-doubted.
You have designes, wherein you can confide,
Though GOD be verie little in your thought:
You, in a blindfold hope, can quiet bide,
Though, in due meanes, his aid you have not sought.
You seem so knowing, that none must advise;
So righteous, that, you reformation hate;
So holy, that, your brethren you dispise,
So powerfull, as if you preserv'd the State:
And beare your selves, as if unto these Nations
GOD, were oblig'd, by speciall obligations.

And, if but with a superficiall look
A view of you were taken, on that side
Which fairest showes, you might be, then, mistook,
For better then you'l prove, when you are tride.
You are now frequent in humiliation,
You are profest Reformers of your waies;
You are become the longest-praying Nation,
And, holiest-talking people, in these daies,

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Your simplest tradesmen are grown mighty Preachers,
Your souldiers guifted are with double power,
Young silliest women are admired teachers,
And speak, and pray among you by the houre.
The chiefest places in your Common-weale,
Supplied are, with men of noted-zeale.

The godly party, now preferments gets,
(At least, they who the form thereof put on)
And, when some of them, are prov'd counterfeits,
The honest party will be thought upon.
To keep the foremost-table of the LAW
Inviolate, you care, of late, have took;
And, many think, it showes you stand in awe
Of GOD; and, that you at his honour look.
And, peradventure, (if it hinder not
Your lusts or profits) when you are at leasure,
Some Orders or Provisions may be got,
To make you carefull, in some better measure,
To keep the second-Table: wherein, lies
The proofe of your faire-seeming sanctities.

You zealously have, likewise, overthrowne
The monuments of Popish superstition;
Pull'd Crosses, Images, and Altars down,
Even those things that gave but just suspition
Of an Idolatrous or fruitlesse use;
As well appeareth, in not lettting passe
(When you demolish'd them, for their abuse)
The guilded Organs, and the painted glasse.
You have for ev'rie week a Sabbath, now;
For every moon a Fast; in private, more:
Thanksgiving daies, you likewise do allow,
For holy-daies, observed heretofore;
Which, of those feasts, will well supply the room,
Vntill you wearie of them shall become.

These works are found among you, and of those
Some part from upright-heartednesse doth flow,

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And from those rectified consciences,
Which do a reall Reformation show.
And, though the works themselves have no deserving
In their own nature, or, through imperfections,
Concomitant: yet, GOD, in you, observing
A will renew'd, and following his direction,
According to your power, accepteth so
A fraile performance, from a weake intent,
That, he as much, by Grace, imputes thereto,
As if it perfectly were done, and meant.
And (for a few thus qualifi'd) GOD hath
Deferr'd full prosecution of his wrath.

But, so far off, your Reformations, yet,
And pious showes, are from deserving ought,
Or from a likelihood, that they will fet
The peace, for which, you have both pray'd and sought;
That, if more mercies GOD vouchsafe not to you,
Then by your Sanctitie deserved are,
Your holy-things, would utterly undo you,
Though all your other sins remitted were.
For, as before their thrall, the wicked Jewes,
Did act a seeming-sanctified part,
Approaching near to GOD, in words, and shewes,
Yet, kept themselves, far from him, in their heart:
So, most of you have done: And, GOD therefore,
Your Sabbaths, Fasts, and Praises doth abhorre.

To him, your hands you lifted in a VOW;
A serious Covenant, with him, you made,
You made it also, not without a show,
As if unfained purposes you had
To do, as you profest: And, you have seem'd
Not only to have rightly understood
That League, and highly thereof to have deem'd,
But, thereby, likewise you receiv'd much good.
Yet, as if, with well-doing, tir'd you were,
(Or, rather, as if you besotted grew)

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To tender it, you very little care,
Or, thereunto, conformity to shew.
A needlesse duty, this, by some, is thought,
Or, pressed farther, then of right, it ought.

But, if it hath impos'd unduly been,
Why were two Realms, so unadvis'd, to make it?
If righteo,us in your eyes, the same still seem,
Why is not everie man requir'd to take it?
If, necessarilie, it was injoyn'd,
And lawfully, why should you suffer them
Both libertie, and favour, too, to finde,
Who, therein, shall your Ordinance contemn?
Why, is there not a difference put 'twixt those
Who take it; and all those who shall refuse it?
And, punishment why do you not impose
On them who take it, only, to abuse it?
Since, breach of publike Cov'nants is a sin,
Which, alwaies, brings a publike vengeance in.

A Cov'nant broke, though with the Gibeonites,
(Who gained it a surreptitious way)
Brought down a Plague upon the Israelites,
Which cost, the bloud of Princes, to allay.
No branch of this, is anie way unjust,
Or inconsistent, in the least degree,
With anie dutie, which performe you must
As Christians, or, as morall men you be;
Nor is it (being understood aright)
A barre to anie Christian-Libertie,
Or, humane Priviledge; though, at first sight,
To some, these, may appeare infring'd thereby:
For, by that Covenant, you vow'd no more,
Then, what you were obliged to before.

It binds you no profession to imbrace
Of Doctrine, Manners, or, of Discipline,
Ought farther, then conformable it is
Vnto the Canon of the Word-divine:

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You vowed nothing to reject, but what
Shall prove, upon due triall, to be found
Destructive, or repugnant unto that;
Or, to the Bond, wherewith you should be bound:
And, as you are obliged, by the same,
To nothing, any way unwarrantable;
So, likewise, you thereby, ingag'd became
No further to performe, than you are able:
Nor harme, thereby, to any can befall,
But, praise to GOD, and safetie unto all.

And, yet, this sacred Covenant, and VOW,
Which tendeth to the prejudice of none,
Which Law-divine, and humane doth allow,
Which need constrain'd you to have undergone;
Which was resolv'd on, by two prudent Nations,
Which, by the highest Senates, in both Lands,
Was made, and took, with due deliberations,
And, sign'd with twentie hundred thousand hands.
Those Vowes, which you have sealed with your bloud,
Those Vowes, which in ten thousand Congregations
Attested were; and which you call'd on GOD
To witnesse too: These Vowes, and Protestations,
Vow'd so religiously, and so attested,
Regarded are, as if you had but jested.

Who dream'd to see a VOW, cri'd up like that,
Observ'd no better, than conditions made
By Boyes, or Girles, at Push-pin, or at Cat?
Who could have thought, that Christians should have had
Of conscience, or of credit, so small care,
As to forget, nay, so much to despise
A Dutie, wherein so concern'd they are?
And, whereupon, Life, State, and Honour lies?
He that your Ordinances doth peruse,
With your instructions, and marks what is done;
Can find out nothing, whereby to excuse
Your ill pursuit, of what you well begun.

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Or why, he should, till you reforme your wayes,
Much heed, what such a Nation, doth, or sayes.

For, both so negligent, and false are you,
In what you vow'd: yea, both to GOD, and Man,
So foolishly, so shamelesly untrue,
Most have been, since this Covenant began:
That (if you soon repent not) this one sin
Will make a curelesse Breach: yea, this offence
Will bring incurable-Destruction in,
Without a speedy, and true penitence.
Thus, that, which might have much advanc'd your peace,
Is like, by your corruption, to procure,
In stead of what you hope for, an encrease
Of Plagues, and Troubles, longer to endure:
Yet, this is not the only meanes of Grace,
Which is, by you abused, in this place.

Your Provocations are as much, or more,
In other sacred things: For, though some few
Have better out-sides, now, than heretofore,
They are not really, the same they shew.
The hewing out of Reformation makes
Good chips; and, for each Carpenter, such Fees,
That, whatsoever paines therein he takes,
No feare of any outward losse, he sees.
In setting up of publike Disciplines,
There are Devices, to contrive it so,
That men shall thereby act their owne Designes,
And few perceive it, what they intend to do:
For, underneath a cloke of outward-zeale,
More projects are pursu'd, than they reveale.

And, otherwhile, GOD bringeth so about
His purpose, that, he makes men Instruments
To plot it, work it, yea, to fight it out,
Against the current of their owne intents.
Sometime, the furious zeale of Hypocrites,
Or wilfulnesse of Tyrants, by the wages

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Of Balaam, to his service he invites;
And, them, against his enemies ingages.
By these, he Superstition doth deface,
Pulls down Idolatrie, and way doth make
For them, to build his Church, up, in that place
Who seek to do his will, for Conscience-sake.
Yea, thus, he more then once or twice hath done,
Where famous Reformations were begun.

Thus Iehu, in a Fierie zeal, destroy'd
Baals Idols, with his Prophets: and, for this,
That Crown, which by his Master was enjoy'd,
GOD, for a while, entail'd on him, and his.
Thus likewise, in this Kingdom, your eighth Harrie
Made way for that which he intended not:
And, then, from manie a wealthy Monasterie
Both Lands and goods, for his reward he got.
Yea, manie others furthered that work
Beneath whose outside zeale, much avarice,
Much pride, with much hypocrisie, did lurk,
And, manie another secret lust, and vice,
For which, draweth near, the fatall day,
Of rooting them, and all their seed away.

Yet, their example makes not These times free
From those corruptions: for, much dawbing, still,
With an untemper'd mortar, you may see;
And, with pretence of good, much doing-ill.
Much show of Reformation, here, is made
In civill-matters; ev'n by them, that steale,
And suck the nourishment it should have had,
From this distrest, and sickly Common-weale.
Yea, where it is expected, that extortion
Should most be punished; there, now, are fees
Exacted, in the most extreme proportion:
And, He, that everie secret action sees,
Will, shortly, find out some among them, too,
With whom, a Bribe, can more then conscience do.

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Yet, such as these (when they are in the Chaire
Of Judgment, Equitie, Examination,
Or set in some Committee) offer faire,
In zealous language, toward Reformation;
These look big on offenders; threaten vice,
And make some honest men, who come before them,
To take them for the birds of Paradise;
And ready, for their Virtues to adore them.
They grow familiar with your ablest Preachers;
They hear them often (in appearance gladly)
They thanke them, praise them, as most powerfull Teachers:
They can bewaile the Times; look verie sadly,
And seeme to be exceedingly affeard,
When they the threatnings of the WORD have heard.

Yet, when all this is done, they passe away,
Through all these threatnings, and through all their fears,
To prosecute their lusts, the selfe-same day,
In which GODS wrath was thundered in their ears.
Yea, thus they do, when vengeance on the Road
Is marching towards them, and in their view;
Thus brazen-fac'd, thus fearelesse of their GOD,
And thus irrationall, themselves they shew.
Their fasts and praises are but complements,
With GOD and men, to furnish out their scœne,
Or, serve to cover-over their intents:
But, little to that purpose they should meane.
What e're the Preacher or the Prophet saies,
Resolv'd they are, to follow their own waies.

The Times, which you have either for confessions
Of sins, or publike mercies, set apart,
Are solemnized with such dull expressions,
As if they were perform'd without a heart.
And, though your Fastings, as Kings Ahabs, had
Some recompence obtain'd in outward things,
In lieu of Outward-showes, that you have made;
Yet, little reall fruit that dutie brings.

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You fast not from Oppression, Fraud, and Strife,
Nor from your Avarice, and base-designes;
You fast not, from a wicked course of life,
Nor from those lusts, whereto your flesh inclines:
Your heads, you, in the morning, humbly bow:
And, look, e're night, with an imperious-brow.

GOD cares not for your solemne Fasting-day,
Except you come before him, more prepar'd:
You meet, and grant the Preacher leave to say
What he shall please; but, give it no regard.
Once, in a Moone, what is it, to repaire
Vnto the Church; and, there, sit out a meale?
Sleep out, perhaps, a Sermon, or a Prai'r;
And, then come home, and fill your bellies well?
Or, what availeth it, to sigh, and groane,
And, make a crabbed face, an houre or two;
Or, whine out words, in some affected tone;
Or, yawne out Lamentations, as some do?
What will all this availe, if you depart
With an unsanctifi'd dissembling heart?

When, on the set Humiliation-dayes,
Your well-affected Brethren fast, and mourn;
When ev'ry Congregation weeps, and prayes,
That, GOD, in mercie, might, to them, return:
Some (as if in despight of that Decree,
And, in contempt of GOD) dance, feast, and sing;
Or, drinking healths, to their confusion, be,
Who, for the Publike-weale, Peace-Offrings bring.
And, many, who would seem to sacrifice
A contrite-spirit, and a broken-heart,
Come, loaded with so many vanities,
That, back, unto their dwellings, they depart,
Not onely, lesse accepted then before;
But, more despised, and polluted more.

It is not to be thought, GOD doth regard
A Formall-habit, so you do appear

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With hearts reform'd, and with a soule prepar'd,
His holy-Word obediently to hear.
Yet, know, that he expects, when you professe
A sorrow for your sins, you should put on
That outward, and that inward humblenesse,
By which, the dutie may be truly done.
He doth expect, that, when you near shall draw
Vnto his Throne, you should approach thereto
With so much reverence, and filiall awe,
That, to the same, you no dishonour do;
Nor, make prophane Beholders, to contemne
His Worship, by your meane esteem of him.

For, some would scarce believe, you serv'd a GOD,
Who hath a power to punish, or to save;
Or, be perswaded, that you fear'd his rod,
Or, that you need of his compassion have;
If they observ'd, how cloath'd to him you come,
Or, heeded your behaviours, in his sight,
Or, saw you, after you returned home,
And, what your conversations were, that night.
For, many, of you, habited appeare
Like those, which to the Revells are invited;
And, not, as if you men of sorrow were,
Or, with GOD's anger, or your sins, affrighted;
But trim'd with toyes, which, at that time, and place,
Shewes, either want of wit, or, want of grace.

And, when you should appear, with looks compos'd,
According to the service you pretend,
Your thoughts, by your deportment, seem dispos'd,
As if imployed to some other end.
Your voice is more imperious, and more loud,
Then, well befits a Fast: you laugh, and grin,
And, often, have those looks, and gestures, show'd,
Which fitter for a Theater have been,
Then for a Temple, in a day of Fasting:
Which, if GOD should, severely, look upon,

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Your dayes of mourning, would be everlasting;
And, your afflictions never would be done:
For, he would see (not without Indignation)
You come, but, with a fain'd Humiliation.

And, then, among those errours, and presumings,
Which make your holy-things abhominable,
(And, which you must repent) are your assumings
Vnto your selves, what you are never able,
Nor, warranted to practise. For, the Pride,
Which hath begot this Boldnesse, doth bring on
Those dreamings, and o're-weenings, which divide,
Distract, and trouble you, as they have done.
You, missing his true meaning, who hath said,
You should be Priests, and Prophets to the LORD,
From Truth, and Decencie, have lately strai'd;
And, made your Pray'rs, and Preaching, so abhorr'd,
That in the stead of what you have expected,
Increase of Plagues, and Discords, is effected.

And, some of you, this Ignorance hath brought
To such presumption, that you vilifie
That PRAYER, which by CHRIST himselfe was taught,
And, turn'd Devotion into Blasphemie;
You, have not only offered strange-fire,
But, also, things uncleane: for, you present
Your Lusts unto Him; and, those things require,
Which, make Him with your offrings discontent,
When, therefore, you present the Sacrifice
Of Prayer, know, that as you are not bounded
To Verball-Formes; so, you should not despise
The Rule, whereon that dutie should be grounded;
Lest that, which might of Blisse, a meanes have bin,
A meanes become, of letting Curses in.

Of GOD, they seeme not prudently conceited,
Who think, that those Petitions he despiseth,
Which his owne Spirit hath, for us, indited;
And only likes of those, which man deviseth:

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Or, that, he will impute it as a Vice,
If in those wants, which formerly you had,
You shall present him one Petition twice,
Or, oftner, though with true devotion made;
Or, that, at all times, all men, should repaire
Vnto his Trone, with suits extemporarie,
Because, those few that have the gift of Pray'r,
Can, quickly, to fit words, their meanings marrie:
For, this is but a novell-imposition,
Arising out of Pride, and Superstition.

(As of Virginitie, long since was said)
Let them to whom GOD gives the same receive it.
But, let it not on any man be laid,
To whom it hath not pleased him to give it.
To speak in publike, Moses was lesse able
Than Aaron; and, yet, GOD did him endow
With kowledge, and with gifts more honourable;
And, from his Holy-Spirit they did flow.
The wisest heart, hath not the nimblest tongue:
Nor is it, still, the Spirits inspiration,
Whereby, so many preach, and pray so long:
But, Memorie, upon premeditation,
And, that, makes oft a fairer shew, in words,
Than Grace, with gifts more sanctifi'd, affords.

And, by this help of Nature, carnall men,
Not only gain esteeme beyond their merit;
And, Player-like, act parts, which, now and then
Are, falsly, thought out-flowings of the Spirit:
But, by this qualitie, have, also, brought
Contempt on better men: and, oft, thereby,
Into their simple hearers hearts, have wrought,
In stead of Truth, bewitching heresie.
Yet, this their Tongue-craft, now, hath such esteeme,
That he, who to himselfe, assumeth not
This gift, doth scarce to them a Christian seeme:
And, therefore, many, now, the same have got,

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Who care not, though these offrings of the tongue
Be wholly Non-sense, so they may be long,

GOD values your Devotions, by their strength
Of Faith; and by your pious inclination;
And, not by that tautologie, or length,
Which hath, of late, begun to be in fashion,
It was a Pharisaicall-Tradition,
Arising partly from hypocrisie,
And, partly, from a Jewish superstition,
Which fool'd their Feminine simplicitie,
As it doth ours. And, therefore, though he seeme
Almost a Reprobate, who dares reprove
That custome, (which those men do most esteeme,
Who, with their owne conceptions, are in love)
Yet, many of them, as your Saviour said,
Have only prated, when they thought they pray'd.

Let, then, your Praying, and your Preaching, too,
Be such, as may True-Pietie advance:
And, not the work of your Destroyer, do,
By pleasing Self-conceit, and Ignorance,
In giving leave to ev'rie giddie braine,
To preach what ever Fancie shall invent;
And, heaps of those false-Teachers entertaine,
Who bring you Tidings, which were never sent.
A mysterie, I will to you unfold,
Whereof, if you take heedfull observation,
A glimmering-light, you shall, thereby, behold,
To help promote both Peace, and Reformation;
And, give some hint, whereby you may provide,
Against those Errours, which do much divide.

There were two SIMONS, in the primitive,
And purer times, who typified that
Which doth concerne you: For, you do derive
Your Evill-being, and your Good-estate,
From what they signifie. The Name imports
In English, HEARING; and, these did fore-show,

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That, in the Church, from Hearers of two sorts,
Great Schismes, and much Heresie would flow.
From SIMON-PETER, which is in your tongue,
Hearing-the-Rock, the Faithfull-Hearers came:
From SIMON-MAGVS, all those Hearers sprung,
Which were seduc'd, according to his Name:
For, by Interpretation, 'tis as much
With you, as if yee said, Hearing-the-Witch.

As Simon-Peter, and the Sorcerer,
Long since contended, whether of the two,
Should get possession of the Peoples eare,
Ev'n so those hearings, at this present, do.
As Simon-Magus, untill Peter spoke,
Had so bewitch'd the common-people, then,
That, for the POW'R of GOD, they him mistook;
So, Formall-hearing, now, bewitcheth men.
So, it is idoliz'd: and, some have thought,
When, formally, that Dutie they had paid,
The Holy-Ghost might for the same be bought:
But, as then, Peter of the money said,
Their Hearing with them perish, who suppose,
That, GOD his Graces, for such wares bestowes,

You, of this itching, this bewitching Hearing,
Have had Experiments: and, at this day,
There are such bitter fruits therof appearing,
That, you had need be watchfull: and, to pray,
That, GOD would please, to sanctifie the eare,
And, circumcise your hearts, that you may know,
When, you the Witch, and when you Peter heare,
That, you, in Grace, may edified grow.
And, that this Information make you not
Respectlesse of that Hearing, or that Preaching,
Whereby, that Saving-knowledge may be got,
Which no man hath, but by the Spirits teaching:
And, that, you so may Heare, that GOD may blesse
Hearing, with Faith, & Faith with Truth-full-Peace.

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Take heed unto your Prayers, that they reach not
Their length, that Widowes-houses do devoure;
Take heed unto your Preachings, that, you preach not
The Spirit weak; and raise a fleshly-power.
Take heed in Giving thanks, you do not say,
In heart, when GOD hath victories bestowne;
That, of your Foes, his hand did thousands slay,
And, that, there fell ten thousands by your owne.
Vnto your Fasts, and your Humiliations,
Take, likewise, heed, left by your negligences,
Those Duties may be greater aggravations
Of your, but, seeming-sorrow'd-for-Offences.
And, take heed, lest hypocrisie may breed
Obstructions in you, of due Taking-heed.

If truly you desire a happie-Peace,
Repent your false Repentance; and, in haste,
Your suits, with true sinceritie addresse,
Before the Day of mercie shall be past.
Reforme your Publike Fasts; and let them show,
Ev'n in the Out-ward-man, so truly sad,
That, others may your inward-sorrow know,
And, by the same, so sensible be made,
Of what you feele; that it may make them find
A change in their owne hearts; and, by that change,
Become to pious dutie so inclin'd,
That, them from Vanitie, it may estrange;
And, ev'rie day, one, thus, draw on another
To Penitence, till all repent together.

To make this dutie further to extend,
(And, grow more generall) you shall do well,
Vnto your Adversaries to commend,
(And unto those, who in your quarters dwell)
This motion: That (since both of you professe
One GOD) you might assemble on one day,
To meet before his Presence, to confesse
Your wickednesse; wide open, there, to lay

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Your Causes; And, for judgement, to referre
Your selves to him. For, such an introduction,
A meanes to draw you somwhat nearer were,
And, to remove, it may be, some obstruction
Which hinders Peace; or, els, to bring that, on,
By which, your work, the sooner may be done.

If, they that have the better Cause, think fit
(With some such meek and pious invitations
As they might frame) for this end, to admit
That day, whereon their Foes humiliations
Pretended are; it either shall allure
Your Adversaries to that Penitence,
Which will a speedy amity procure:
Or, aggravate, so greatly their offence,
That GOD shall quite reject them, as if they
Refused your Appeal; or, to abide
His Doome: and did intend some other way,
Or, by some other Censor, to be tri'd:
And, what event will thereupon ensue,
It were a needlesse matter to fore-shew.

When all are thus assembled, on one day,
Or els, of all, so many as GOD's grace
Shall make, therewith, content: (For, though it may
To you, be somwhat, yet nor Time, nor Place,
Are, in respect of Him, considerable)
Yea, when you in his presence shall appeare
To this effect (as he shall you inable)
Fall down before him, with all meeknesse, there.
Together then, with seriousnesse, begin
The Fast anew. In true humiliations,
Let all bewaile their errours, and their sin,
Till, in their mournings, and their Lamentations,
The famous mourning, equallize they shall
Of Hadadrimmon in Megiddo Vale.

Let, joyntly, People, State, and King, unite
In penitence, as they in sinne have done.

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Themselves, let them, for all their sinnes, indite,
(Their new and ancient sins) before GOD's Throne.
And, forasmuch, as in this later-Age,
And, in this place, he seemeth, as it were,
To bring all things, again, upon the stage,
Which, heretofore, in action, did appeare:
(Yea, since they, who will heed it, may behold
All that concernes th'Estates, or conversation
Of Saints, or sinners, in GOD's Word fore-told,
Epitomized in this Generation)
Let not his warnings, both by Word, and Deed,
Be frustrated, through want of taking-heed.

Remember to bewaile your Gentilismes,
Your Babylonish-whoredomes, heretofore,
Your ancient-heresies, and moderne-Schismes,
That, GOD, for these, may judge these Isles no more.
Observe, and well observe it; that, because
You govern'd lesse by Law, then by your will;
That, GOD, almost, depriv'd you of those Lawes:
And, that, because (your projects to fulfill,
Or, to promote your carnall-Policies)
Morality, and Piety, by you,
Were made but stales: the worlds old-Heresies,
And Heath'nish-manners, are sprung up anew,
To interrupt, and marre the publike-Peace,
For your dissembling, and unthankfulnesse.

Remember, that, like Israel, you have spar'd
The Canaanites, that should have been destroi'd:
That, like rebellious Saul, you had regard
To Agag, and forbidden spoiles enjoi'd.
Remember, how you stagger'd off, and on,
Betwixt the LORD, and Baal, in ancient-time,
And, how farre, you, in later yeares, have gone
To repollute these Islands, by that crime.
Remember, that, like Judah, you have made
Confed'racies, with such as are GOD's Foes;

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Though warnings, counsells, and commands you had
To shun their friendships, who the Truth oppose:
And, mindfull be, how you on them reli'd,
Whom Egypt, and whom Ashur, typifi'd.

Remember, that, you have, like Solomon,
(Though you had his example to beware)
Been carelesse, those Alliances to shun,
Which, both pernitious, and forbidden were.
For, all this Empire, guiltinesse contracted,
As well, by heeding not, to have prevented
What, by your Kings, and Peeres of State, was acted,
As, in not having, yet, this sin repented.
Repent, that, as in Judah, by her Kings,
You have, by halves, reform'd Religion too:
Call, therewithall, to mind, what fruit it brings,
The work of GOD, with negligence, to do.
And, humbled be, for ev'ry other sin,
Whereof these Isles have, jointly, guilty bin.

Let those three Parties, which have made, this day,
These Islands wretched, by their great Transgressions,
And, chas'd their Glory, and their Peace, away,
Make, jointly, and asunder, their confessions:
For, all have much offended, ev'n the best
Are guiltie of enough, to have destroi'd
The temporall well-being they possest,
And, all their hopes of what may be enjoi'd.
Let luke-warme Newters, those poore-spirited,
Degenerated Britains, without heart,
(Who, as ignobly, have demerited,
As those, who persecute the guiltlesse part)
Repent, and change their temper, out of hand,
Lest they be justly spu'd out of the land.

Let them, that are supposed best affected,
And, who, the best approved Cause befriended,
Examine, how their duties are neglected,
How false they are, in what they have pretended;

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How faintly they the publike-Guard began;
By what ill meanes, they their Good-Cause pursu'd;
How little trust in GOD, how much in Man,
(And in an outward aid) hath oft, been shew'd;
How heedlesse, of their Covenant, they grow;
How many of them sleight the Vow they took;
How they inlarge, how they contract it, now;
How wilfully, how frequently, 'tis broke;
And, how the publike sorrow they prolong,
By doing Piety, and Iustice wrong.

Let your Malignant-partie (or, of them,
So many as are, yet, not gone so farre,
That they all timely warnings must contemne)
Remember, of what crimes they guilty are.
Let them consider that to have their will,
Or, that ambitious humours they may feed,
Or, that some other lust they may fulfill,
How, they have made their Countrey smart and bleeed.
Let them consider, that they have pursu'd
Their tyrannies, in these unhappie wars,
As if they meant a pattern to have shew'd,
Of Rehoboam, and his Councellers;
Or, how King Ahabs party went to fight
At Ramoth-Gilead, as in GODS despight.

Let ENGLAND mourn apart, for all those crimes,
Which do pollute her at this present day;
And, those committed in preceding times,
That GOD may take his heavie hand away.
Her ficklenesse, in faith, and in attire;
Her great abuse of plenties, by excesse;
Her persecutions, both by sword and fire,
Of those who did the holy faith professe.
Her wantonnizing with the meanes of Grace,
Her thanklesnesse for that long Peace she had,
Her sleighting it when she forewarned was
Of that great breach, which GOD on her hath made.

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Yea, all her other sinnes let her lament:
Let her, all Nationall-defaults repent.

Let SCOTLAND mourn apart, and search, wherfore
Her sinnes upon her face, and on her back,
GOD, at this present, doth so deeply score,
Now, when she doth of sin most conscience make.
Let her examine, if she hath no End
To seize on some advantage, for her owne;
While, her distressed Sister to defend,
She, piously, a readinesse hath shown.
If she be guilty, of so base a thought,
Let her repent it, e're GOD search it out:
If she be cleare, Truth shall to light be brought;
And, they who of her faithfulnesse, now, doubt,
Shall praise her Children; if they have a care,
Their lying, and their bragging to forbeare.

Let IRELAND mourn apart; and, not, alone,
For her late Trecheries, and for the guilt
Which her inhumane Natives brought upon
Their heads, for bloud of Innocents new-spilt;
But, also, for the sinnes of all those Nations,
Within her borders, who, for their oppressions
Were cast out of their ancient-habitations;
And, lately, driven from their new-possessions.
Let her, that brutish Ignorance lament,
Wherewith, she, many ages, was polluted;
That Heath'nish-Christianity repent,
Which, her blind Children, piety reputed;
And, her Rebellions, and Idolatry,
Let her bewaile, with true humility.

Let her observe, what her Transgressions be;
That She, unto the praise of GOD, may say;
In all his judgements truly just is he,
And, that, with Mercies, he did them allay.
For, if a strict inquirie he had made,
For all the Bloud, th'Oppression, and the Guile,

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Of which, he, Information might have had,
There had not one been living in that Ile.
Both Scot, and English, verie studious were,
To plant themselves upon her fruitfull plaines;
But, how, Religion might be planted there,
They tooke but verie little care, or paines.
To save the Soule, not many were employ'd,
And, therefore, many Bodies, were destroy'd.

Had her late Planters, as industrious bin,
Her Natives, with Religion to enrich,
As how to make themselves great men, therein,
(Or, if their care had been but halfe so much)
Some hundred thousands had, this day, possest
Their lives, and livelihoods; who, at their cost,
For times to come, Examples have increast
Of goodly-hopes, through want of Prudence, lost.
And, therefore, let them learne, who yet survive,
Not to neglect CHRISTS Kingdome; if they would,
Their Kingdome, or their Heritage should thrive;
Or, that, their Hopes, or Labours prosper should.
Yea, if they seek on Earth a firme possession,
Let them not build their houses by oppression.

For, not a few of her Inhabitants,
Both out of England, and from Scotland came,
Meane in esteeme; opprest with many wants;
And, many of them, many wayes to blame;
Some, with projections, nor discreet, nor just;
Some, to defraud their Creditours, and Friends,
Of their estates; some, to enjoy their lust,
And, other some, for other such like ends,
Came over to that Kingdome, nor much knowne,
Nor much regarded; who, in little space,
Were not alone exceeding wealthy growne,
But, made both Earles, and Barons of the Place:
And, they, who suddenly, aloft did clime,
Were pulled to the ground in shorter time,

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They, whose abundance, over-night was more,
Then they could value; e're the following day
Disclos'd it selfe, were made exceeding poore;
And, glad from all their wealth, to run away:
Scarce leasure had they (left they lost their lives,
With their estates) to take, of all they had,
Enough, wherewith their children, and their wives,
Might clothed be, when their escapes they made.
The losse, the frights, the bloud-shed, and the cries,
Felt, suffered, seen, and heard, in those black-nights,
Present O Ireland, still, before thine eyes:
Still, let thy children keep them in their sights.
That Visitation, let them so bewaile,
Especially, the sins that caused it,
That, they, nor their posterity, may faile
To mind the same; and, let them not forget
To mourn apart, for that sad desolation,
Nor to be thankfull, for their Preservation.

Let every Corporation, Town, and City,
Within these Islands also mourn apart;
That, their Inhabitants may find more pity,
Then may be challenged, by due desert.
Some, of them, have the benefit enjoy'd
Of GODS protections, both from fire, and sword:
Some of them, have been touch'd, but not destroy'd,
For which, what can they lesse then thanks afford?
Let them acknowledge his preventing-Graces,
Who, yet are safe; and, that, GOD pleas'd hath bin
To keep Dstroyers from their dwelling places,
So oft, so much polluted, by their sin:
And, let all those whom he began to smite,
Be thankfull, that, they were not ruin'd quite.

For, great are those oppressions, which, of late,
Have cri'd for vengeance, on some Governours,
Of Mysteries, and Townes-incorporate,
Who have abused both their Trust and Powers.

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Those Priviledges, which to them were deign'd,
With chiefe respect unto the Common-good,
Are oft insisted on (yea, and maintain'd)
As if their Granter should be understood,
To meane some favours to particular Places,
With damage to the Publike; which, makes void
His CHARTERS, ipso facto: For, such Graces
Are by their owne excessivenesse destroi'd,
If Reason may be Judge; which, heretofore,
The greatest sway, in humane Actions, bore.

Yet, you have Cities, Townes, and Mysteries,
Which do not only, by such Grants, as these,
Oppresse the Publike, without Remedies;
And, injure Strangers, by their Franchises:
But, also by mis-usage of their Grants,
And, by their Pow'r do many times oppresse
The poorest of their owne Inhabitants;
Enslaving them, by wrongs, without redresse,
For, of those profits, which conferred were
(As well their needy members to sustaine,
As, decently, that port and charge to beare,
Which, to those Corporations do pertaine)
Most part is swallowed, by a private purse;
Or, spent in Feastings, which is somewhat worse.

And, when so bad a Corporation growes,
As to oppresse a Stranger, or their owne,
He, that their tyranny then, undergoes,
Is irrecoverably overthrowne,
For, to a Body-politike belongs
No Soule: And, if no Soule, what Conscience, then?
And, if no Conscience, how can it, of wrongs
Be sensible? when it had wronged men?
It doth consist of many, and can raise
The larger Bribe; the sooner find a friend;
Or, search out, by what persons, or what wayes,
It may (him whom it prosecutes) offend:

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And, which is worst (when other enemies,
Time, slaies;) This, is a Foe that never dies.

Let, therefore, all your Bodies-Politike
Lament their sins apart, lest GOD destroy
Those Priviledges, which, without desert,
And, to the wrong of others, they enjoy.
Among the rest, let ev'rie Academ,
Lament apart, till they, are purged from
Their great corruptions, lest, from out of them,
Your bane, as from a poison'd Fountaine come:
For, their pollutions one maine cause have bin,
Of all your present mischiefes: yea, from thence
Proceeded not alone much of that sin,
Which hath defil'd these Isles; But, that offence,
And, those divisions, also, which of late,
Have almost ruined both Church, and State.

For, there, through want of prudent Government;
Good principles, and pious education,
Your youth, which were, for knowledge, thither sent,
Lost civill manners, wit, and reputation.
Thence was it, that your Clergie-men became
Such Roarers, and such Tosse-pots, as they were.
Their Life, and Doctrine, growne so much to blame,
Was first corrupted, and perverted there.
There, they were taught to fawne, and flatter, well,
For their preferment; and, how to become
Fit Priests for Ahab, Baal, and Jezabel:
Or, Pimps, and Panders, for the Whore of Rome.
GOD grant, that for their sins, they so may mourne,
That, they to GOD; and, GOD, to them may turne.

Let your Assembly of Divines, apart,
Repent and mourne; themselves, examining,
What aimes, what hopes, what purposes, what heart,
And, what desires, they to their meetings, bring.
Let them consider, whether, none advances
Traditions of their owne, to be received,

194

And to be practis'd, as Gods Ordinances;
Which are, in truth, not such to be believed.
Let them examine, whether they do carrie
A due respect to Christian-Liberty,
If they inforce those things, as necessary,
Of which there is no true necessity;
And, whether, they have not removed hence,
What, might have edifi'd, without offence.

Let it be heeded whether they have care,
As CHRIST himselfe, and, his Apostles had,
What things the people, and the times, can beare,
E're they impose them; lest, they make them mad,
Instead of right reforming. Let them trie,
Their spirits well, and search, if there be none
Who dare pretend divine Authority
For that, which GOD commands, not to be done.
Let search be made, if any Discipline
Hath been projected, for a private end,
Or, to advance a politike Designe,
Which needlesly, weak Christians might offend;
Or, which may causlesse jealousies increase,
Inlarge your troubles, or deferre your Peace.

Let all their Brethren of the Clergie, too,
In every Faction, seriously repent,
And mourn apart; This, let them chiefly do,
Who look'd one way, while they another went.
Let them consider, whether they pretend not
Great diligence, and zeale, to bring to passe
That just, and pious work, which they intend not
So much, as that, which therewith cover'd was;
Let them examine, also, if the while
They cozen others, others will not seek,
With falshoods, their Deceivers to beguile,
And, to requite their practice, with the like,
Till all these Kingdoms, and these Churches, rue
The pathes and vanities, which they pursue.

195

For, as they had designes upon the State,
Their aimes to further; so have others had
Designes on them, whereby they have, of late,
To wicked purposes, advantage made.
Some, to the Presbyterian-side adhere,
Some to your Independents: But, with those,
Who, busiest, in partaking, do appeare,
Another Faction, secretly, doth close,
Which parts it selfe among them, and, thereby,
Spies out the strength, and weaknesses of either;
Foments their quarrellings, and, doth comply,
As friend to one side, yet, is true to neither;
But, covertly, by means of those two Factions,
Increaseth publike dangers, and distractions.

These, by this craft, have made the zeale of those,
On either side, whose purposes are good,
The Kingdomes peace, unheeded, to oppose,
With such, as, openly, the same withstood.
So that, if Envie, Avarice, and Pride,
Whence sprung that Aconite, that Clergie-bane,
Which hath your Clergie, lately, giddifi'd,
Shall not, by penitence, away be tane,
Your quarrells will perpetuated be;
And, neither Church, nor State, nor Corporation,
Nor Families, be from divisions free.
Now, therefore, in a true humiliation,
Let ev'ry one of them, prepare his heart,
For his transgressions, to lament apart.

Your Militarie-Men, apart, must mourne,
Aswell as these. And, therefore, that, they may,
With true compunction, from their wayes returne;
Let them, to heart, their many failings lay.
Let your Commanders mourne, for all those harmes,
Which have been suffred, under their Commands,
By their neglecting of that Law of Armes,
Whereon, the honour of a Souldier stands.

196

Let them bewaile the plunders, rapes, and murthers,
The Breaches of Lawes-morall, and Divine,
The violences, riots, and disorders
Committed through default of Discipline:
And, for their Avarice, and their Ambition,
Whereby, they do prolong your sad condition.

Let them not thinke, that none so worthie are
To be advis'd withall, (or of esteeme)
For Souldiery, as they that boast, and sweare,
Or arrogate to be, what they, but seem.
Let them not think, they better may confide
In Officers, who have not so much braine
To keep their legs from staggering aside,
Then in a Souldier of a sober-straine.
Or, that this War had e're the worse went on,
Had all been countenanc'd in their Command,
Who, for the worke-sake, ventur'd thereupon;
And did, aswell as others, understand
The moderne-Discipline, and, therewith, too,
Knew what the Greeks, and Romans use to do.

Let them repent their treacherous complying
With your professed foes; their favour-showing
To men suspected; and their grace-denying,
Where better trust, and more respect was owing.
Let them be sorrie, that the faithfulnesse,
Or, at the least, the prudence, which they wanted,
Made publike charge, and dangers to increase
By Passes, and Protections, lightly granted.
And, let their hearts of adamant, and steel,
Be prick'd with such remorse, and penitence,
That, in themselves, a loathing they may feel
Of their inhumane spoiles, and insolence
Committed in that Countrey, which hath bred them;
And, on their friends, who payed, arm'd, & fed them.

Moreover, let the Gentrie of the land
Bewaile their many vanities, apart;

197

The duties of their calling understand,
And lay their many failings more to heart.
For, most have liv'd, as if to idlenesse,
And to debaucherie they had been borne,
And large estates, for nothing, did possesse,
But, for supplies of lust, to serve their turn.
A die, a cocke, a hound, hawke, horse, or whore,
Were chiefest objects of their contemplation:
Their sinnes alone, are, though you had no more,
Enough to bring a Land to desolation:
And, they have been chiefe cause, and instruments
Of all these Plagues, for which this Realme laments.

But, much will want of perfecting a peace,
Vntill your Men of Law perswaded be
To mourn apart. For, they will re-increase
Your quarrells, else, as soon as you agree.
By their formalities, and slow proceeding,
Your remedie, for injuries is made
A mischiefe, the disease, oft times, exceeding:
And, if some eye, unto them, be not had,
So many places in your Parliament
They will supply, and fill so many Chaires
In your Committees; that, much derriment
Vnto the Subject; and some close impaires
Of publike freedomes, (e're you be aware)
Which slip upon you, if you have not care.

They have, already, made the common way
Of Trialls, very greatly, to inlarge
Your troubles, by impertinent delay,
And circumstances, to the suiters charge.
So strong a party they have alwaies had,
That your Great-Charter, which doth interdict
Delay of Justice, was, in that point, made
(E're since the grant) a Law without effect.
But when their Courts, and practises have reach'd
Oppressions height; They, as the Clergie were,

198

Shall downe, into another Orb, be fetch'd,
And taught to keep a constant motion there.
This Work, upon some Courts, hath been begun;
Another time, it shall be fully done.

Let ev'rie Oiconomick-Government,
And ev'rie single person, through the Nation,
In ev'rie Family, apart lament,
And take his wayes into examination.
For, all Estates and Common-weals, that be,
Consist of these: And, whensoe're you shall
Those Pettie-Governments reformed see,
You, then, are in the way, of mending all.
If ev'rie Houshold-Prince, and Officer,
Within his Jurisdiction, would but please,
To make compleat a Reformation, there,
The Work-desired, should be done with ease.
Let each one, therefore, take the same in hand,
In all relations, wherein he may stand.

Let ev'rie Master, prudently direct;
And, ev'rie Servant, faithfully obey:
Let ev'rie Husband, husband-like affect,
And, ev'rie Wife, a wife-like love repay.
Let Parents, parent-like, their hearts enlarge,
Their filiall duties, let the Children do;
Let, singly, all of these their parts discharge,
Both to the Family, and Strangers, too.
Yea, let each person, individually,
Now, take himselfe, apart, and, all alone,
His heart examine, what Impietie,
By him, hath been occasioned, or done,
Whereby your Peace was broke; and, then assay,
To help renew it, by what means he may.

But, chiefly, let the Royall-Family
Admit this Discipline, that others may
Receive encouragement, and light, thereby,
To find a Penitentiarie-way.

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Oh! let the King, if ever he expect,
To see the Citie of his Throne, in peace,
Go mourne apart; and, let his thoughts reflect
Vpon his folly, and unrighteousnesse.
Let him like David, (and not Ahab-like)
Take meekly those reproofs, that GOD shall send,
And, let them on his heart so kindly strike,
That, he enraged grow not, but amend.
With that great Patterne, of true Penitence.
When he, like sheep, beholds his people slaine;
Let him not look, too much, on their offence,
But, rather, let him of his own complaine:
That, they may do the like; and, GOD perceiving
True penitence, quit both, by free forgiving.

Let not the Jezabel of Rome delude him,
With her black witch-crafts, and her fornications,
Lest, out of all his Kingdomes she extrude him,
And, make him cursed, thtough all generations;
For, of all Kings on earth, who now shall drink
The cup of her delusions; if in vaine
His warnings prove, the deepest he shall sink,
Into that Lake, whence none can rise againe.
Because, he hath not only had a sight
(Beyond them all) of her seducing waies;
But, also, hath acknowledged that Light,
And, wilfully, himselfe to her betraies:
Yea, and to make his sin, and shame the more,
Betraies the bloud of others, to the Whore.

Yet, that he may have all the meanes to fetch him
Back from perdition (if he be not gone
So far, by wilfulnesse, that none can reach him)
Let him be personally call'd upon,
To look unto his waies. And, since you know,
His Flatterers, present him their false glasse,
Himselfe, thereby, unto himself, to show,
And make him seeme the man he never was;

200

Help thou to undeceive him; lest he may,
With his three earthly Kingdomes (now halfe lost)
Fool desp'rately, a heav'nly Crown away;
And, think, he shall redeem it, at the cost
Of trimming up the Western end of PAVLS,
By Fines, extracted from afflicted Soules.

First, bid him call to mind (with mourning for them)
The sins which did his Fathers-house pollute;
And, in his heart, so seriously, abhor them,
That, it may bring forth penitentiall fruit.
The bloud of War that hath in Peace been shed;
The manifold uncleannesses therein;
The superstitions, thereby, cherished;
Offences known, and those that hid have bin:
The prosecution of the royall-bloud
In Arabella; (guilty of no crime,
Except it were offensive, to be good,
And, to have had her being, in his time.)
The matchlesse prophanation of a Day
For Gowries death: his many great oppressions;
The fooling of the Kingdomes wealth away,
And Subjects lives, by cheating Expeditions:
With whatsoe're offences, of this kind,
He shall, upon a strict enquirie, find.

Wish him, with like affections, to recall
The slips of his own Reigne, and of his life;
The mischiefs, which to Him, and you, befall,
In hunting for a superstitious Wife:
His making of Nobility a scorne,
By dignifying men of base-condition;
By choosing Counsellours, to serve his turne,
In setling things, unworthy his fruition.
By suffring of his royall Proclamations
To be abused to injurious ends;
By making showes of verball Reformations,
For publike good, when rapine he intends.

201

By faining fears, when cause of feare, none give him;
And, by protesting, untill few believe him.

Let Him consider, that, all those, for whom
Against two Kingdoms, he, in Armes, appears,
And, whose Protector He is now become,
Are men, whom nothing, but their sin, endears.
Let Him consider, what a sea of bloud,
In his three Kingdomes, hath, of late, been spilt,
For those, who share among them all his good,
And, make him culpable of all their guilt.
Let him consider, that, what, now, he strives,
And fights for, is, but, power to be undone;
Or, that he may, by his Prerogatives,
Without controule, unto the Devill run:
For, unto him, that power, or that supply
Which may be for his good, none shall deny.

Let him remember, what the German-horse
Should have been sent for: Let him call to minde
Distressed Rochel: And, that, which will worse
Afflict him, when his feeling he shall finde,
Poore gasping Ireland; whose wide-gaping wound
Calls out for vengeance, and, his honour taints
With deep-di'd staines. His flat'rers feigne a sound
From Straffords bloud, and other such black-Saints;
But, that Illusion will not keep him long
From hearing Ireland: For, two Kingdomes more
Have sent in bloud, to make a triple-Song;
Which, will, so dreadfully, so loudly roare,
That, he shall heare (unlesse repent he do)
Ere long; and heare it, with a vengeance, too.

Let him repent, his having, long, attempted
His loving-people, to inslave, and grieve:
For, he from vengeance will not be exempted,
By pleading an usurp'd Prerogative.
Let him repent, the cov'ring his intents
With Protestations, and religious showes:

202

Since, these are made such thred-bare complements,
That, ev'ry one, almost, their meaning knowes:
Nor let him longer foole himselfe, to think,
The World perceives not, what his projects be:
For, he is blinde, or, wilfully, doth wink,
Who cannot, at a hundred loop-holes see,
That, many yeares, before this war begun,
He purposed the course, he, now, doth run.

Then, that he may, without despairing, heare,
Let him, with penitence, before it comes,
To all those wholsome Counsels lend an eare,
Which, timely, may prevent ensuing doomes.
To mollifie his heart, let him present
Before his understanding, and his eye,
How spoiled, and how miserably rent
His three late-happy-Kingdomes, now, do lie.
Let him give eare unto those just complaints
Which his distressed Subjects have prefer'd;
Let him regard the suffrings of the Saints;
Let living-moanes, or, dying-groanes, be heard:
The Widdowes prayer, and, the Orphans cries,
Lest, GOD, to hear him, in distresse, denies.

Let him remember, that, they, who complain,
And, of whose Townes, he, now, doth ashes make,
Are those, who, for his safe return from Spaine,
Made joyfull-Feasts, and Bonfires, for his sake.
Let him consider, that, these are the Nations,
(Ev'n these, whom, now, he tramples under-feet,)
Who him received with glad acclamations,
And him did, oft, with love-expressions, meet.
Let him consider, that, they, who enjoy
His presence, now, are those that prey upon him;
Ev'n some of those, who lab'red to destroy
His Fathers house; and, those that have undone him,
Both in his reputation, and, estate;
And, merit not his favour, but his hate.

203

Let him take notice, that, by his digression
From prudent Counsells, his most cruell Foes
Have so imprison'd him in their possession,
That, of himselfe, he cannot, now, dispose.
And, since, all Europe knowes it, let him know,
That, though they flatter, and, upon him fawne,
He, despicable, in their eyes, doth grow;
And, is, by them, esteem'd but as a pawne.
Yea, let him also know, that, he hath got
So little credit, upon either side,
That, as the Parliament, now, trusts him not,
So, but few other much in him confide.
Nor will his lost repute, to him return,
Till, for his errours, he shall truly mourn.

Let him consider, that, whereas he sought
To multiplie wild-beasts, within his land,
That, GOD, in justice, now, the same hath brought
Almost into a Desart, to his hand.
To nourish Beasts, his Huntsmen took away
His peoples birth-right: And, behold, now, he
Is, therefore, hunted, like those Beasts of Prey,
By which, the neighb'ring towns molested be.
When he was in his artificiall-heav'n,
Which flatring Poets, and his Painters made,
Let him re-minde, what Attributes were given;
With what high Epithetes, they made him glad;
What joy, in vanities, he, then, did take;
And, what a GOD of him, his Priests did make.

Let him take notice, that, there was a doubt,
His Father came not, fairly, to his end;
And, that, when meanes was made to search it out,
And, Witnesses commanded to attend,
The Parliament, abruptly, up was broken;
And, no proceeding, afterward, therein.
Let him consider, what this may betoken,
What jealousies, it, justly, might let in.

204

If any were suspected, without cause,
Their Innocence, by triall, had been clear'd:
If justly tax'd; why had not, then, the Lawes
Their course? why was not that accuser heard?
Cleare, or not cleare, somebody was to blame,
That, such an accusation quasht became.

Nay, these three Kingdomes did neglect, in this,
A dutie, which they, questionlesse, did owe:
And, partly, for that negligence it is,
That, GOD, for bloud, doth make enquirie, now.
For, of each Subject of the mean'st respect,
Ev'n of the Beggar, by the high-way side,
The King hath an accompt, upon suspect,
That, by the hand of violence he di'd.
And, should a King, that, living, had protected
So many millions, dying, so be sleighted,
That, when he to be murther'd was suspected,
Not one should be examin'd or indited?
Believe it, this Neglect is, now, rewarded:
For, thousands die, and perish, unregarded.

In all three Kingdoms, was there never a one
To second, the Physitians, Eglesham
And Ramsey? had he not a powerfull Son?
And his Beloved servant, Buckingham?
Were there not some about him, who then had
No hopes, but those which on his life were laid:
Had he not Lords, and Earles enough, then, made,
Who, by this dutie, might have partly paid
For his respects? Could none of all those things
Call'd Bishops, upon whom in life he doted;
Whom he esteem'd the Angell-guard of Kings,
Whom he, out of the dung-hill, had promoted,
To sit with Princes? could of all these, none
Repute him worth regard, when he was gone?

Let him remember, and consider well,
What judgements, have, on that neglect, ensu'd;

205

How suddenly, the Duke, soon after, fell;
What direfull vengeance hath this Land pursu'd
Ev'n to this day: and know, there is a GOD,
Who (though Kings do neglect it, or, assay
To hide it) will be searching after bloud;
And, all concealed mischiefs open lay.
This, let him do; lest, he, that might have worn
The glorious'st Christian Wreath, ere long, become
To be abroad, a laughing-stock, and scorn,
And, past regaining honour, here, at home.
For, yet, he may return; and, if he do,
He shall recover all his Honour, too.

There is a way (if he will seek to finde it)
To greatest Honours, thorow this Disgrace:
There is a meanes (if he will, truly, minde it)
By which, this wonder may be brought to passe.
To no worse end, this VOICE doth, now, discover
His failings, but, to drive him to this course.
To no worse purpose is he, thus blackt over,
But, that, he might not be defiled worse.
And, this VOICE prophesies, that, if he shall
With upright-heartednesse, pursue that Path,
He shall not onely be restor'd to all
His honours lost, and be redeem'd from wrath,
But, also, farre more honourable grow,
Then all the Kings of Europe, raigning now.

Belief works greater wonders; let him, then,
Believe it may be, and, it shall be done.
He hath, too much, believed many men,
Whose Word was lesse to be reli'd upon.
The precious'st Pearles lie deepest in the Seas,
The richest stones from hardest rocks are hew'd,
The darkest mornings have prov'd glorious dayes,
Great mercies to great Sinners, have been shew'd.
When, to repentance, GOD was pleas'd to call
Manasseh, few were better Kings then he:

206

When he converted persecuting Saul,
A glorious change, in him, the Church did see;
And, so there may be, now: For, who can tell,
But, that, to make you rise, your Sov'raigne fell?

If he suppose, that, he may find evasions
From any thing, against him, here, exprest;
Yet, of offences, since he gave occasions,
Let him not, in his own uprightnesse, rest:
But, since GOD, both with Scandalls, and the Sword,
Pursues him at the heeles, let him repent.
Let him indeavour, in a true accord,
To meet him in his lawfull Parliament:
For, if, with humblenesse, he can submit
To GOD's corrections, he will, soon, forgive him:
He hath another blessing, for him, yet;
He, unto favour, will, again receive him:
And, when his Sov'raigne shall, thus highly grace him,
With their old love, his Subjects shall imbrace him.

But, ere this reconcilement can be had,
His Parliament, reform'd must, also, be;
And, their Attonement, must, with GOD be made:
For, him they have provok'd, as well as he.
And, though the better Cause their partie hath,
And, prosecutes it, stoutly, now and then,
Their failings, also, have deserved wrath;
And, many of them, are no better men.
The greatest Counsells, in the world, may erre
In Judgment, and in Fact: For, they consist
Of many men, among whom, some there are,
Who do not what they should, but, what they list.
And, such, have, in your choice Assemblies, bin
Occasions of much errour, and, much sin.

Then, let the Bodies-Representative
Of these three Kingdomes; but especially,
Thy Parliament, O ENGLAND, now, receive
This summons to a true humility.

207

Let ev'rie Individuall Member, there,
Lament apart. Let him, both as a Man,
And, as he qualified, doth appeare,
For publike service, do the best he can,
To purge out, by an humble penitence,
What guilt soever, he, by wilfulnesse,
Or weaknesse, hath incurred, ever since
A place in that High-Court, he did possesse:
And, let him not disdaine, who ere he be,
To take this counsell, though it come by thee.

Remember him, if he be of the Peers,
The dutie of his Peerage: For, betweene
The Sov'raigne-Person, and the Commoners,
He standeth, as an Honourable Meane,
The Body-Politike, to temper so,
That, ev'rie Part, and Member, of the same,
May, to that due, and faire proportion grow,
Which will be most convenient for the same.
For, while they keep their Station; and so long,
As, in the Three-Estates, there is retain'd
A comely Symetrie; there can no wrong,
By either, from the other, be sustain'd:
Nor, can all humane policie invent,
A nobler, or a safer Government.

But, if those Parts encroach upon each other,
Or, act to other purposes, than those,
For which they were ordain'd, they'll fall together,
Into that Chaos, from which first they rose.
If therefore any Peere, through some distrust
Of others, or corruption of his owne,
Hath any way been failing, in that Trust,
Which GOD, by birth-right, hath on him bestowne;
Or, if for his advantage, he hath sought,
To gaine a pow'r, or priviledge, whereby
A dammage, on the Publike, may be brought;
Let him repent him, of that injurie;

208

Lest else GODS justice, and the Peoples wrath,
Teare from him, that poore honour which he hath.

Bid them not think, that their Immunities,
And their large Priviledges granted were,
That, they the common people might despise;
And, wrong that pow'r, with which they trusted are.
Bid them take heed, they do not so comply,
To help enlarge an uncontrolled Pow'r,
That, they at last, enable Tyranny,
The Lords, as well as Commons, to devour.
For, by that meanes, they shall not only bring
The Commons into bondage; But, make way
For him, that is a tyrannizing-King,
Their honours, also, in the dust to lay;
And, to advance those Vndeserving-Groomes,
That, shall out-brave them, and possesse their roomes.

Is't not enough, that some of them, of late,
Were lifted to their Station, from among
The Commons, for their falshood to the State?
And doing Innocence, and Vertue wrong?
For, some of them, at this day, had not won
The honour of a Lordship, had they not,
With stoutnesse, for the Common-wealth, begun;
And, by betraying it, their Titles got.
Is't not enough, that, by such meanes as these,
They have attained to that high degree,
Those Freedomes, and those Princely Priviledges,
Which due unto the noblest Virtues be;
Vnlesse, now they are up, it seemeth meet,
To let them tread the Kingdome, under feet?

Is't not sufficient, that nigh fortie yeeres,
Most Honours, prostituted did become
To sale? and, that so many of your Peeres
Have raised been, out of the verie scum
Of all mankind? Can they not be content,
With what they have acquir'd, to go away?

209

While they are wink'd at, cannot they repent?
That, what they have, they may, in peace, enjoy?
But, will they, still, endeavour to oppresse,
And, to encroach upon the publike right?
Vntill the People, stirr'd with furiousnesse,
Deprive them of their May-game-Honours quite?
Let them, with wisdome, rather be content,
To save what they have gotten, and repent.

For those exorbitancies, let them mourn,
Whereby they have irregularly mov'd.
Let them, with meeknesse, now, to GOD return,
And not be mad, because they are reprov'd:
Lest, if this VOICE displease them, they enforce,
E're long, the sending of a Messenger,
Which will afflict them, and enrage them worse,
Than he, whom at this present, they shall heare.
Let them, their Persons, and their Families,
Hereafter, with that vertuousnesse ennoble,
Which getteth favour in good peoples eies;
And, spite of envie, makes their honours double:
So, they a reall-Honour will possesse;
And, none shall thrive, who seeks to make it lesse.

Let ev'rie Member of the Commons-House,
For his Transgressions, also, mourne apart.
Let him, in secret, by himselfe, peruse
The thoughts, and inclinations of his heart.
Let him examine, how he first came in,
To be of that Great-Councell: whether he
Was not begotten, and conceiv'd in sin,
A Member of this Parlament to be.
And, if it hath been so; then, all alone,
Let him that Crime-Originall repent;
And, all that he hath actually mis-done,
Since he hath sitten in this Parlament:
For, till these be repented, all the fruit
Of his endeavours, will be like the Root.

210

As, he were verie foolish, who supposes,
Were he but Brambles, or but Nettles planted,
To gather Tulips, Violets, and Roses;
So, out of question, they no folly wanted,
Who could conceive, that Burgesse, or, that Knight,
Whom, first, corruption chose (and who still dotes
On that which gave him power) can be right,
To Pietie, or Justice, in his Votes.
Let him search, whether that strict Oath he took,
At his Admittance, and the VOW, since made,
Hath not been either negligently broke,
Or, wilfully, some violation had:
And, if he find it so, let him condole
His failings, with repentance, and be whole.

If he hath more pursued his owne ends,
Than publike services: If he hath striven
For feare, for gaine, or for respect of Friends,
That, an injurious censure should be given:
If he hath found himselfe, since his Election,
Puft up with that intollerable pride,
Or, that opinion of his owne perfection,
Which is in some of them, with scorne, espi'd:
If he hath, by his Pow'r, or by his Place,
Occasion took, on absent men, to throw
Aspersions undeserv'd, to their disgrace;
Or, damage, e're themselves they wrong'd could know;
Let him be sorrie for his impudence,
And, seek to make amends, for that offence.

If he hath injur'd any, by delay;
Or, by unfit advantages, or times,
Procured Votes, a surreptitious way;
Or justified sinners in their crimes:
If he hath crossed Vertues due reward,
By plotting, packing, siding, or partaking;
By hiding that, which ought to be declar'd,
By cowardly, an honest Cause, forsaking:

211

If, he hath under blame, or censure, brought
Those innocents, who, meerly, out of zeale
Vnto the Publike, have, sincerely, sought
His folly, or his falshood, to reveale;
And knew it true, (although their proofes did faile;)
Let him, his cruelty, in that, bewaile.

And, let your Parliament take speciall care
Of this abuse; lest, els, a ground be lai'd,
Whereon, their cunning foes may engines reare,
Whereby, they may be wrong'd, if not betrai'd.
For, though in justice they should vindicate
The honour of their Members, whensoever
Rash levitie, malignancie, or hate,
To injure or asperse them, shall endeavour;
Yet, when good probabilities, induce
The well-affected, to mistrust, or feare,
Some publike dammage, danger, or abuse,
By that, which they shall either see, or heare,
By any Member, either done, or said;
Why should it not, unto his charge be laid?

If, where, it ought, a secret be reveal'd;
If, for the publike, without private spleen;
If, past due time, it hath not been conceal'd;
If, probabilitie thereof hath been;
If, he that speaks it, be no way defam'd,
And, of concernment if the same appears,
Why should the speaker, be reprov'd or blam'd,
For thus disclosing, what he thinks, or hears?
If it be false, th'accused, need not feare it;
For, if he be not otherwaies suspected,
None, without proof, unto his wrong, will heare it.
And, if he blamelesse be, and well affected,
The zeal of his accuser, hee'l commend;
And, count him his, because, the Kingdoms friend.

Your Senators, their priviledges have,
Not for their own, but for the publike sake;

212

And, they abuse the trust their Countrey gave,
Who, any further use, of them shall make.
And, who can judge it reasonable, then,
To make the people more afraid to wrong
The priviledges, of your Single-men,
Then those, which to the Commonwealth belong?
Were it not fitter, to adventure on
Dishonouring a Commoner, or Peer,
Then suffer all of them to be undone,
Through want of speaking that which you shall hear?
Let them, who Freedoms-personall would cherish,
To publike dammage; with their freedoms, perish.

This way, the Royallists did first begin
To screw up their Prerogative, to that,
Which, made it more indulgent to have bin,
To serve their turnes, then to secure the State.
And, if there be not still a prudent care
That, Priviledges clash not; and, that they
Which are subordinate, may not appeare
In force, untill their Betters, give them way;
Destruction will succeed. Let, therefore, so
Each Member, on his Priviledge insist.
That, both by claime and practice, he may show,
They are not to be used, as men list;
Or, turned into Bug-bears, to affright
The Common-wealth, from claiming of her right.

Let, therefore, care be took, and, quickly too,
That, her due rights the Common-wealth enjoy;
That, private men their duties better do;
And, that, divisions do not all destroy.
Let not those foolish Toyes, who do besot
Themselves, with arrogance, presume to prate,
As if a Parliament had them begot,
To be the heires-apparent to the State.
Permit you not Religious-Melancholy,
Phlegmatick-Av'rice, or, Zeale-Cholerick,

213

Nor an excessivenesse of Sanguime-Folly,
To make both Church and State grow deadly sick,
Nay, rather mad; and, in their mad distractions,
To teare themselves, into a thousand fractions.

Let not your King and Parliament, in One,
Much lesse apart, mistake themselves, for that,
Which is most worthy to be thought upon:
Or, think, they are essentially, the STATE;
Let them not fancie, that, th'Authority
And Priviledges upon them bestown,
Conferred, to set up a Majesty,
A Power, or a Glory, of their own.
But, let them know, 'twas for another thing,
Which they but represent; and, which, ere long,
Them, to a strict account, will, doubtlesse, bring,
If any way, they do it wilfull wrong:
For, that, indeed, is, really, the Face,
Whereof, they are the shadow, in the glasse.

Moreover, thus informe them, that, if either,
They, still, divided, grow from bad, to worse;
Or, (without penitence unite together)
And, by their sin, provoke him to that course;
GOD, out of their confusions, can, and will
Create a cure; and, raise a lawfull-power,
His promise to his people to fulfill;
And, his, and their Opposers, to devour.
Yea, bid both King, and Parliament, make hast,
In penitence, united, to appeare:
Lest, into those Confusions, they be cast,
Which will affright them both; and, make them feare,
And, know, there is, on earth, a greater-thing,
Then, an unrighteous Parliament, or King.

More might be said; but, that which is behinde,
Requires another season: Thou, therefore,
Another opportunity must finde,
If, thou desir'st to be informed more.

214

Perhaps, thou hast, already, more exprest,
Then many will approve, if thou reveale it:
Yet, if thou look for any temp'rall-rest;
Let hopes, nor fears, compell thee to conceal it.
Thy Scorners, in derision, lately, said,
Thou art a Prophet; but, when all is told
Which is behind, their pride will be afraid,
That, some ensuing things, thou didst behold;
And, that, what e're thou art, thou hast declar'd
Those Councells, whereof notice should be took;
Those warnings, which are worthy of regard;
And, like a true-man, and a free-man spoke.
Let it be therefore, spoken, without fear:
And, Let him, that hath eares to hear it, hear.

The VOICE here, left to speake; and, here, will I
For this time, leave to write; and, sit, and mourn
For Britains, and mine own iniquity,
Vntill, that VOICE, with perfect Peace, return.
O GOD! returne it, quickly; and, let not
This portion of it, be divulg'd in vain;
Or, so despised be, or so forgot,
That, Words of Peace, we never heare again.
Speak Peace, how ever, to thy Servants heart;
Speak to his Soul, in grace and mercy, LORD!
That, from thy wayes, he never may depart;
Or, dis-obedient be unto thy Word.
Forgive him, all the vanities, that lurke
Within his heart; All deeds, by him, misdone,
And every word, and thought, whereby this worke
Defil'd hath been, since, first, it was begun.

Of outward-mercies, and, of some more ease
From his afflictions, too, he should be glad:
But, since ther's as much bane, as blisse, in these;
Give, what thou knowest fittest to be had.
And, let an Eccho, from this VOICE, redound
Vnto thy praise, an everlasting-sound.

Amen.

FINIS.

University of Virginia Library

VOX PACIFICA:

OR, A Voice preparing the way of Peace: AND, To that end, dedicated to the King, Parliaments and People of these British Isles.

[The first Canto.]

The second Canto.

The third Canto.

The fourth Canto.