 | A wished reformacion of wicked Rebellion |  |
To all the right noble of birth or mynd, with the true hartted Gentlemen and
loyall subiects of England, Thomas Churchyard wisheth heuenly happinesse, with
worldly honour, rest, peace and parfait felicite.
A wished reformacion, of wicked rebellion.
Good men wear glad, at Gods great glorie seen,
(By speshall grace) on Englands ioy to shyen,
Which grace prezarud, our quinttesenssed Queen,
That skaeped saef, from skaeth throw power deuien,
O falls forsworn, what ear you aer giue place,
To mightty Iovs, Lieftenant heer on earth,
O haetfull flock, of traytors heid your face,
From rightfull Kings, and Queens well boern by byrth,
Fy tretcheros trash, that wind will blo a way,
Pluck vp your sight, and see your own decay.
(By speshall grace) on Englands ioy to shyen,
Which grace prezarud, our quinttesenssed Queen,
That skaeped saef, from skaeth throw power deuien,
O falls forsworn, what ear you aer giue place,
To mightty Iovs, Lieftenant heer on earth,
O haetfull flock, of traytors heid your face,
From rightfull Kings, and Queens well boern by byrth,
Fy tretcheros trash, that wind will blo a way,
Pluck vp your sight, and see your own decay.
Haue you not hard, how birds of theayr discloes,
Fowll treasons oft, and brings traytors to shaem,
His conshence doth, condemp him whear hee goes,
That seeks to torn, a Kingdom out of fraem,
Cowncell a broed, and bad deuice at hoem,
Ritches ill won, and gold that enmies giue,
Baerfoet lyek freers, to wrangling Roem may roem,
In England long, heer may no traytors liue,
O Iezuwits, can you your selus eskues,
Whan Ihesus naem, and Docttrin you abues.
Fowll treasons oft, and brings traytors to shaem,
His conshence doth, condemp him whear hee goes,
That seeks to torn, a Kingdom out of fraem,
Cowncell a broed, and bad deuice at hoem,
Ritches ill won, and gold that enmies giue,
Baerfoet lyek freers, to wrangling Roem may roem,
In England long, heer may no traytors liue,
O Iezuwits, can you your selus eskues,
Whan Ihesus naem, and Docttrin you abues.
Hee preached peace, you sow discord and war,
All duety done, to Sezar Cryst dyd lyek,
But you in rage, and errors run so far,
Yee care not whom, yee poyson kill or stryek,
A shamelesse swarm, off Seminaries now,
Disgisd lyek dogges, that whine beefore they bite,
Fills euery towne, with truthlesse traytors throw,
Whoes words lyke swords, are ready drawne to smite,
But blo of Axe, comes oft ere they bee waer,
And stryeks of head, and leaues the body baer.
All duety done, to Sezar Cryst dyd lyek,
But you in rage, and errors run so far,
Yee care not whom, yee poyson kill or stryek,
A shamelesse swarm, off Seminaries now,
Disgisd lyek dogges, that whine beefore they bite,
Fills euery towne, with truthlesse traytors throw,
Whoes words lyke swords, are ready drawne to smite,
But blo of Axe, comes oft ere they bee waer,
And stryeks of head, and leaues the body baer.
All speeds a lyek, and all comes to one end,
Hee dyes to day, next moern his fellow goes,
No warning sarues, Nor may the mischiefe mend,
So fast and far, the floods of folly floes.
Runs ore the brym, beeyond obedience bounds,
Tears vp great trees, and throwes good houses downe.
Harms common-weales, maeks cuerles soers & wounds,
And cuts them off, that ought sarue prince and crowne,
What win you then, when lyues of many a man,
Are spilt and lost, since you theas broyls beeganne.
Hee dyes to day, next moern his fellow goes,
No warning sarues, Nor may the mischiefe mend,
So fast and far, the floods of folly floes.
Runs ore the brym, beeyond obedience bounds,
Tears vp great trees, and throwes good houses downe.
Harms common-weales, maeks cuerles soers & wounds,
And cuts them off, that ought sarue prince and crowne,
What win you then, when lyues of many a man,
Are spilt and lost, since you theas broyls beeganne.
To ryed in poest, from Spayne to Tybron streight,
Is sure a knack, of coosnaeg in a coerd,
Some swyngars say, hanging is but a sleight,
Yet drawing suer, and quartring is aboerd,
Of honest harts? Fy helhounds hunt no moer,
Among true men, your haunt is soen espyed,
To bee trust vp, and get no thank therfoer,
Is boldnesse great, so lyek a traytor tryed,
O England wayll, the baebs boern in thy woem,
Who neuer brings, no better fruet from Roem.
Is sure a knack, of coosnaeg in a coerd,
Some swyngars say, hanging is but a sleight,
Yet drawing suer, and quartring is aboerd,
Of honest harts? Fy helhounds hunt no moer,
Among true men, your haunt is soen espyed,
To bee trust vp, and get no thank therfoer,
Is boldnesse great, so lyek a traytor tryed,
O England wayll, the baebs boern in thy woem,
Who neuer brings, no better fruet from Roem.
Poysons do mutch, but murthers smell of smoek,
(A fit perfuem, for plutoes fellows all)
They are sent ore, vnder a conning clock,
To shrowd a plaeg, that one some shoulders fall,
The Sacrament, first traytors must receiue,
To doo fowll deeds? is that relygion good,
Fy on that fayth, that shall mans sowll disceaue,
By bold attempts, and bathing hands in blood,
Without eskues, theas faults must suffer blaem,
(In secret sayd,) aut come to open shaem.
(A fit perfuem, for plutoes fellows all)
They are sent ore, vnder a conning clock,
To shrowd a plaeg, that one some shoulders fall,
The Sacrament, first traytors must receiue,
To doo fowll deeds? is that relygion good,
Fy on that fayth, that shall mans sowll disceaue,
By bold attempts, and bathing hands in blood,
Without eskues, theas faults must suffer blaem,
(In secret sayd,) aut come to open shaem.
Treasons do end, with plaegs and skorgis great,
A iust reward, for wilfull fowll offence,
Than what is won, by bloddy angers heat,
As Iudas sold, our Christ for thirtty pens,
Hee hangd himself, for doing such a deed,
The law loeks well, on all thoes diulish drifts,
Which coms to nought, for strangly still they speed,
That wold gro great, By cruell shaemles shifts,
Death hell and fier, at heells doth follow thoes,
That from the prince, and staet a gadding goes.
A iust reward, for wilfull fowll offence,
Than what is won, by bloddy angers heat,
As Iudas sold, our Christ for thirtty pens,
Hee hangd himself, for doing such a deed,
The law loeks well, on all thoes diulish drifts,
Which coms to nought, for strangly still they speed,
That wold gro great, By cruell shaemles shifts,
Death hell and fier, at heells doth follow thoes,
That from the prince, and staet a gadding goes.
No Kingdom shoes, so many rebells yet,
Althoguh a Freer, in France wold fellows haue,
Yee run to far, with ouer weening wit,
For traytors wants, the powre to powll and shaue,
Or cut our throets, sharp razors how you may,
Tiem tells vs taells, of all your practyes throw,
Then fly hens foells, your deeds do you beewray,
Fowll murther brings, your naems in question now,
Eskaep is noen, but only throw the pyeks,
For all the world, your doings mutch mislyeks.
Althoguh a Freer, in France wold fellows haue,
Yee run to far, with ouer weening wit,
For traytors wants, the powre to powll and shaue,
Or cut our throets, sharp razors how you may,
Tiem tells vs taells, of all your practyes throw,
Then fly hens foells, your deeds do you beewray,
Fowll murther brings, your naems in question now,
Eskaep is noen, but only throw the pyeks,
For all the world, your doings mutch mislyeks.
Kill oen kill all, Kill all, first hang your selus,
So all is saeff, for hee that all doth see,
Loeks down on thoes, that dayly digs and delus,
To saue from harms, all such as harmles bee,
So on thoes props, that holds vp publyek staet,
Hee loeks and doth, thearin as hee doth pleas,
And for a pawne, hee gius you all check maet,
Boern heer at hoem, or bred beeyond the seas,
Than think on all, you wish to ouerthrow,
So is your fall, moer neerar than you know.
So all is saeff, for hee that all doth see,
Loeks down on thoes, that dayly digs and delus,
To saue from harms, all such as harmles bee,
So on thoes props, that holds vp publyek staet,
Hee loeks and doth, thearin as hee doth pleas,
And for a pawne, hee gius you all check maet,
Boern heer at hoem, or bred beeyond the seas,
Than think on all, you wish to ouerthrow,
So is your fall, moer neerar than you know.
For as you wish, a change for hired cause,
So eury staet, haets thoes that traytors bee,
No frinds you find, in common world or lawse,
Whear constant fayth, your changing minds may see,
Think you our world, Ioues traytors half so well,
That children wieus, and goods they do forget,
And will loes land, and housis whear they dwell,
And roet vp all, vntyemly twigs to set?
Goe bloody brood, hatcht vp in rebell rowt,
Hyed heads in hoells, else world will find you out.
So eury staet, haets thoes that traytors bee,
No frinds you find, in common world or lawse,
Whear constant fayth, your changing minds may see,
Think you our world, Ioues traytors half so well,
That children wieus, and goods they do forget,
And will loes land, and housis whear they dwell,
And roet vp all, vntyemly twigs to set?
Goe bloody brood, hatcht vp in rebell rowt,
Hyed heads in hoells, else world will find you out.
God may conuert, vyell men from vicyous arts,
Reform the mind, the body vertuous groes,
When shaem maeks blush, the face that playes bad parts,
Gods grace will work, moer goodnesse then man knoes,
Ill lyef foer thought, fils hart with hoep and grace,
Repentance brings, sweet rest and blessings boeth,
Obedience fraems, a consience in good cace,
True feare and loue, delights in loyall troeth,
But who seeks blood, in blood shall glotted bee,
And his own end, by blood shall quickly see.
Reform the mind, the body vertuous groes,
When shaem maeks blush, the face that playes bad parts,
Gods grace will work, moer goodnesse then man knoes,
Ill lyef foer thought, fils hart with hoep and grace,
Repentance brings, sweet rest and blessings boeth,
Obedience fraems, a consience in good cace,
True feare and loue, delights in loyall troeth,
But who seeks blood, in blood shall glotted bee,
And his own end, by blood shall quickly see.
I can but wish, the wicked wear reform'd,
And all the rust, and kancker skowred clean,
If no, bee sure, thear madnesse will bee worm'd,
And troblos tongs, bee tawght to sing a mean,
Thear poysonings aer, reueald by thear own crue,
Thear treasons hath, no powre to passe vnknown,
Sedishoes books, and sawssy lybels nue,
In fier and flaem, aer vtterly oerthrown,
Themselues in dowbt, of death and daunger still,
Vnder Gods wrath, and rightfull Princes will.
And all the rust, and kancker skowred clean,
If no, bee sure, thear madnesse will bee worm'd,
And troblos tongs, bee tawght to sing a mean,
Thear poysonings aer, reueald by thear own crue,
Thear treasons hath, no powre to passe vnknown,
Sedishoes books, and sawssy lybels nue,
In fier and flaem, aer vtterly oerthrown,
Themselues in dowbt, of death and daunger still,
Vnder Gods wrath, and rightfull Princes will.
Finis qd.
Thomas Churchyard.
| A wished reformacion of wicked Rebellion | |