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Vpon the limits of this happy Nation,
There flotes a skumme, an off-cast Generation,
Disperst, despis'd, and noysome to the Land,
And Refractory to the Lawes, to thy Command.

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Not stooping to thy Power, but despising
All Government, but of their owne devising,
Which stirs the glowing embers of division,
The hatefull mother of a States perdition,
The which (not soone redrest by Reformation)
Will ruine breed to thee, and to thy Nation,
Begetting Rebels, and seditious broyles,
And fill thy peacefull Land, with bloody spoyles: