THE COMPLAINT OF PAUL'S, TO ALL CHRISTIAN SOULS:  

OR an humble Supplication,  
To our good King and Nation,  
For Her new Reparation.   
Written by HENRY FARLEY.  Amore, Veritate, & Reverentia. 
Printed by CANTRELL LEG. 1616.   

The Book to the Reader.  

If you will judge me, (my good friend)  
First read me through to the end,  
If all be well, you may commend me,  
If ought amiss, I pray amend me.   

For every one should gladly do,  
The same he would be done unto.    

I Poor Paul's dejected and distressed, yet being in the best prospect, and taller than all my fellows) do see, or at least may see, (if my windows be eyes) many stately monuments, houses, and other things builded, and done within these few years, some for Honour, some for profit, some for Beauty, some for pleasure, some for health and recreation, some for Royal entertainments and sports, and many for charitable uses:  
And I have seen the Globe burnt, and quickly made a Phoenix.  
Q. But who sees me? A. Who sees thee not?  Tunc etiam spero, 
And hope will still, though still I have the worst;  
For were't not for some hope, my Heart would burst.   

Before the Complaint is added a Prologue, and after the same an Epilogue, and a Dream.  
1. THe Prologue, is a charge given by the Church to this Book; namely, that it should disperse itself to the Court, Clergy, Cities, and Countries, to search and find out all such as are Royally, Graciously, Honourably, Religiously, Virtuously, Charitably, and Bountifully minded towards the repair thereof, To the end (that Their lights shining in such a glorious work of Piety) may thereby illuminate, and inflame the hearts of all others, to be willing Benefactors, Contributors, and Coadjutors to the same.  
2. The Epilogue discovereth a jew-rie of Knights of the Post; that in this, and in all other Pious Designs, will ever swear to the contrary.  
3. The Dream is a Vision which the Author saw in his sleep, showing the manner and fashion, how (as he thought) the said Church and steeple were beautified and repaired.   

THE PROLOGUE.  

And first to the Court.  

FLY little Book, from East unto the West,  
From North to South, or where thou likest best,  
Search Britain out, in all Her better parts,  
Amongst the Noblest, and the Worthiest hearts.  
But first (as duty bindeth) take thy wing,  
And fly to Faith's Defender, JAMES my King;  
Beseech His Highness, (by all means that be)  
That (as S. Albon) He would pity me,  
And so to order, by His Great command,  
That I may be repaired out of hand;  
Else I shall wear away, and crack, and fall,  
To my great sorrow, and my lovers all.   

OH tell His Majesty in humble sort,  
That thou art come unto His Royal Court  
To beg a Boon, that never begged before,  
Which (if He grant) thou never shalt beg more;  
And be thou sure before from Him thou part,  
Thou get Compassion from His Kingly Heart;  
Like as the woman was to Christ, so be  
Importunate unto his Majesty.  
Do not thou look, like one, that will be daunted,  
But pray, and speak, until my suit be granted;  
And say, Although I ragged am, and torn,  
As if I were, to all the rest a scorn;  
Yet Christendom thr'oughout can truly tell,  
That I for Name and Fame do bear the Bell;  
And ner'thelesse that I am called poor Paul's,  
I feed (with th' choicest delicates) more Souls,  
Then any Three (the greatest Churches) do,  
In England, and in all Great Britain too.   

And when thou hast thus laboured Him a while,  
Mark, if His Gracious Countenance do smile:  
For if it do, be sure He doth affect thee,  
And with His Royal favour will protect thee;  
And by His sacred wisdom, will devise  
A speedy way for my Re-edifice.   

So I shall have just cause 〈…〉 song 〈◊〉 sing,  
No grace in th'earth to that of God and King;  
And shortly will be sung by every infant,  
That good King JAMES made me again Triumphant.   

THAN go to Her, whose Princely virtues shine  
As if She were a Goddess most Divine,  
(I mean my Gracious Queen and Lady ANNE,  
Best Queen of Women, for Best King of Man:)  
Beseech that Peerless Paragon of Time,  
That She will deign t'accept thy honest Rhyme;  
The rather, in respect Her Royal Brother,  
Was the Prime cause thereof, not any other,  
Who being (in the sight of many people)  
With other famous Princes on my steeple,  
My Writer did conceit, His Highness spoke  
Some charitable motion for my sake,  
That it were charges well bestowed and spent,  
To do me Grace with some fair Ornament;  
As with a Crown, a Spire, or some good thing,  
More fit for to entertain a King.  
And 'cause He there did print His royal foot,  
Poor man supposed He signed and sealed unto't:  
And say I what I can, yet is his Creed,  
His Highness did delivered as His Deed;  
In which conceit (though oftentimes restrained)  
He could not rest, till thus I had complained.   

OH tell Her Highness that Her Ladies fair,  
Would give good gifts to see my new repair,  
And that, if first Her Majesty begin,  
All Worthies of her sex will then come in,  
And bring their Angels, Nobles, and their Crowns,  
From Cities, Countries, Villages, and Towns;  
For Women never were of bettet spirits,  
To do the works that Fame and honour merits,  
Then now they are, God grant them be so still,  
Patterns of good, and haters of all ill.   

AND when thou hast appeared to King and Queen,  
Unto their Princely Son likewise be seen,  
The high and mighty CHARLES, our joy and treasure,  
Whom all true subjects love in boundless measure.   

Say to this Worthy, Well-beloved Prince,  
It was my chance some fifty five years since,  
To lose my top, a stately princely spire,  
By lightning, which set the same on fire;  
And burned it down, (a wonderful mishap,)  
Leaving me bare and bald without a cap,  
Like an old ship without her masts and sails,  
Having no Beauty, but poor rotten rails.   

Pray tell this Prince what honour it will be  
Unto His Highness if He speak for me;  
And what a Glory, Name, and Fame, and praise,  
Unto Great Britain it will ever raise,  
If this my humble suit be well respected,  
That so with speed the work may be effected.   

SO from the Prince (as fast as thou art able,)  
Make haste to go unto the Counsel Table,  
Show wherefore thou dost come, and make a motion,  
Unto their Honours there for their Devotion;  
That They'll be pleased to join with Majesty,  
In such a work of Christian Piety;  
I know Their Wisdoms and Their Worths are such,  
They will in this no gift nor counsel grudge.   

THAN to all other Lords and Ladies bright,  
And every virtuous Gentleman and Knight,  
Do thou appear; and say thou'rt come from me,  
And I do hope thou shalt more welcome be:  
As sure as I in famous London stand,  
I shall have gifts of every Noble hand.   

AND when with Lords and Ladies thou hast done,  
About the House in every office run,  
And from the highest to the lowest Groom,  
Say, thou for my repair and help art come;  
And I dare wager every one will say,  
They'll give to me, and spare another way.    

Secondly, to the Clergy.  

THUS do thou leave the Court, and quickly high  
Unto the Reverend Bishops and Clergy,  
And giving Them due Grace and Reverence,  
Crave thou Their Bounties and Benevolence.   

Tell Them I am Their Church of greatest note,  
Although I wear a poor and ragged coat;  
And stand in fairest City of this Land,  
And with great state was builded to Their hand.  
I was the only Mirror, so am still,  
But then for Beauty, now for looking ill:  
And Strangers wonder, why I am so bare,  
Where such great costs on pleasures buildings are:  
And where for Vanity, there wants no coin,  
Or any thing to make her brave and fine.   

I do assure them (under their Correction)  
That I have lived long in great subjection,  
And 'cause I doubt my rents and means are small,  
That I shall not be mended till I fall,  
I think it not amiss for Them and me,  
To try what help from others there will be:  
So I have turned thee to the world therefore,  
That (if I want,) good men may give me more:  
And doubtless there are Thousands that would give,  
Great and large gifts, to see me prosperous live.    

Thirdly, to the City.  

NOW from the Clergy walk through London-City,  
And look them out that my poor case do pity;  
For there thou'lt find innumerable many,  
That for my good, will do as much as any;  
No place so famous as that Royal Town,  
For works of Worth, of Honour, and Renown.  
Be it for profit, pleasure, health, or state,  
(whatsoe'er it cost,) the Citizens will have't.   

Mark but morefield's, how it's advanced high  
That did before both low and loathsome lie:  
And going on take Algate in thy way,  
Note well her building, and her rich array.  
Then without fear of stocks or pillory,  
Go to the garden called Th'artillery,  
Pass by the pikes and muskets, and be bold,  
That honourable action to behold:  
And I am sure if back thy news thou bring,  
Thou wilt protest it is a worthy thing,  
That men of note their time and coin should spend,  
To practise Arms, their Country to defend,  
And voluntarily themselves incline,  
To learn the rules of Martial discipline.   

I like it wondrous well, and could agree.  
In every Shire and Town the like might be,  
That if in time we come to counterbuffs,  
We may have skill at Arms more than at cuffs,  
And be prepared with skill and armour bright,  
Against God's enemies, and mine to fight.   

Now come to Bow in Cheap that cost full dear,  
And see how gloriously she doth appear.   

From thence to Smithfield if thou chance to hit,  
Tell me what costs they have bestowed on it,  
It was before a filthy noisome place,  
And to the City very much disgrace,  
Yet now some say it may with best compare,  
Of market places that in England are.   

Then unto Amwell see what you can say,  
(The River which was cut the other day,)  
methinks it is a very famous thing,  
And doth much comfort to the City bring:  
I needs must say it doth, and will avow it,  
And so I think all others will allow it,  
And praise the Founders for their good intention,  
And pray to bless them, and their new invention.   

So may you very well the Founder's praise,  
Of water-engins made in former days;  
For they are worthy, and their works good still,  
Though Amwell do the best it can or will.   

Also for Charity and good Almsdeeds,  
What City under heaven more poor feeds?  
Or who more bountiful to Preachers be,  
Then Londoners to their ability?   

All which I do, and may rejoice to see,  
And hope (in time) they'll do some good to me:  
And so will leave a thousand things to name,  
That likewise do deserve their lasting fame,  
And those more chiefly which were done of late,  
(Together with their triumphs of great state,)  
Because for thee my Book, and for the Wise,  
I hope 'twill be enough for to suffice.   

And therefore now thy duty there is done,  
See that to other Cities thou be gone;  
Entreat them fair as thou go'st on thy way,  
And do not care what carping Critics say.    

Fourthly, to the Country.  

WHEN thou hast done in City and in Town,  
I pray thee walk the Countries up and down,  
And so disperse thyself both far and wide,  
Till every honest Christian heart be tried:  
Spare neither sex, nor age, nor bond, nor free,  
Nor any one of whatsoe'er degree:  
For though some places are but poor and bare,  
Yet will the poorest have a mite to spare;  
The Country welcome I do know is kind,  
Where means doth hit according to the mind.   

Therefore my loving Book take heart and go,  
Thou shalt find ten good friends for one bad foe:  
Do not thou fear for want of Eloquence  
Or filled terms, to please the outward sense;  
But with a courage and a conscience free,  
Do what thou canst to grace and pleasure me,  
And I will pray as much as in me is  
To bring my Benefactors unto bliss,  
Thy words are honest, and thy matter true,  
Wherefore go on I say, and so Adieu.   
Thy well-willer to the World's end, St. PAUL'S Church.    

❧ The Epistle of the Author to all Courteous and Charitable Readers.  

IF you should ask me Why I undertook,  
Into the ruins of Paul's Church to look?  
Or How I durst (like Bayard) lift my Muse,  
To such a height, or such a subject choose?  
Or Who provoked me on, or bid me do it?  
Or who did set their helping hands unto it?  
Or Which way I do think this Land can raise,  
Enough Benevolence in these hard days?  
Or What the end of my intent should be?  
Or When I thought this worthy work to see?   

To these your Why, your How, Who, Which, What, When,  
I answer thus kind friends and Gentlemen:  
First, for your Why, my reason I will tell,  
It's cause I love, and still will love Bethel;  
And How I durst on such a subject write?  
It's cause I do it in the Churches right;  
For whom, and for my Prince and Country too,  
I'll spend my blood, write, speak, ride, run, or go.  
And for your Who did bid me or assist me?  
It was my God that hitherto hath blessed me.  
And for your Which ways such great gifts will rise,  
I could set precedents before your eyes  
Of one or two, whose deeds so far extend,  
As would build three, and this Church well amend.  
Then wonder not (I pray) which way or whence,  
This Land should raise such great Benevolence.  
And for your What's the end of my intention?  
The scope of all my Book will make you mention.  
And lastly, for your When this work shall be,  
Belongs unto my Betters not to me,  
To God and King, and power's superior,  
And not to me that am inferior.   

Wherefore (good Readers) take it well in worth,  
The answer which to you I have set forth,  
And when this Book of mine abroad is sent,  
(Though poor and plain) believe it is well meant:  
And every thing's well done that's taken so,  
But otherwise the good for bad doth go.   

I do confess and all the world may know-it,  
I am too weak, to have the name of Poet,  
Yet I protest I like so well the art,  
I would a good one be withal my heart;  
But now it is too late to wish or cry  
I was no poet borne, nor one shall die.   

Since first into this business I waded,  
I could not be by any friend dissuaded,  
Although they told me strange things of these days,  
That might have made me doubtful many ways;  
But being void of fears, or thought of harm,  
I did myself with Christian courage arm,  
And stoutly went through thick and thin to shore,  
Where never any waded yet before;  
And now have finished what my soul required,  
Though not so well by half as I desired;  
God grant it may such good acceptance have,  
That once again this Bethel may be brave.  
And you dear Friends whose favours I obtain,  
Health to your days while here you do remain,  
And after this life ever may you stand,  
Most blessed Saints in the Celestial Land.   
Yours only in the uttermost of my best endeavours and wishes, HENRY FARLEY.   

At Zoilus, Momus, and their mates, This do I fling to break their pates.  

Critics surcease, and do not stir too much,  
Lest meddling more than needs, I may you touch,  
And tell you to your teeth you are no friends  
To any good beginnings, or good ends.  
Though plain I am, to Prince I am as true,  
And loyal too, as are the proudest of you:  
Nor have I wronged you or any other,  
More than a loving child would wrong his mother:  
Or written any thing so void of reason,  
But that it may (to good men) come in season;  
Wherefore let justice rule you, and be quiet,  
And seek not'gainst my right to make a riot:  
For if you do, I must defend my cause,  
By help of God, or King, or Arms, or Laws;  
Yet will I yield my life unto my Betters,  
But not to you, if I should starve in fetters.   

Perhaps I'm borne to be a Phinees bold,  
To beg and pray for poor, and weak and old,  
And such as are both dumb, and deaf, and blind,  
That in this flinty Age no help can find.   

What's that to you, or wherefore should you grudge,  
When nine times worse, you spend ten times as much?  
But that's to please your humour, that's well done,  
And in that vain your course runs headlong on,  
Until you make yourselves so poor and bare,  
That twenty such have not a doit to spare.   

If this my suit be rightly well regarded,  
I may have thanks, and love, and be rewarded:  
And more than that, (if luck do not miscarry)  
Paul's friends will say, I was an honest Harry:  
So gain a virtuous Fame when I am rotten,  
By future Ages not to be forgotten,  
While (if you please) you may go shoe the goose,  
And (wanting garters) wear your stockings lose.   
Yours, as you plainly see, till you are friends with me. H. F.   

In laudem Authoris  
Carmen 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  

SEmiruta aspiciens Paulini culmina templi  
Farleius, queritur tale perire decus.  
Mox piaspirantem componit vota libellum,  
Et quia non poter at magna, minora facit.  
Qui si tàm nosset templum, quàm condere versum,  
Efficeret propria, quod vovet, ipse manu.  
Fortunet laetis deus hoc successibus ausum,  
Gloria & ingenuum certa sequatur opus.    


THe great King's House, & Courts on earth decayed  
Let King, and Court to heaven raise up again,  
And of the Churchmen let it never be said,  
That they did grudge the Temple to maintain:  
Let London London's beauty beautify,  
And Countrymen their Countries-dignity:  
And with the Church's wished exaltation,  
Mount up this Authors rightful commendation.   
I. W. T. C.   

THE COMPLAINT OF PAUL'S, TO ALL CHRISTIAN SOULS.  

THE great complaint that here is made good people,  
Is of Paul's Church, and of that polled steeple,  
Which stands within the famous city London,  
Cracked, defaced, rend, and almost undone:  
Mourning like Charing-cross, being much decayed,  
And of the storms and winter blasts afraid,  
Saying (alas) will no man pity me,  
But suffer still my poor adversity?   

Is't S. Paul's doctrine you would feign embrace?  
Then crown my head, do me some outward Grace:  
Let strangers see and all that come to Town,  
That your chief Church doth flourish, not fall down:  
And let me have some Beauty, form, and fashion,  
That ye may show yourselves a loving Nation,  
And so assure me you do not reject me,  
But with your wont favours do respect me.   

I know that for your own delights and pleasures,  
Upon your houses you bestow great treasures,  
Without, within, not any costs you spare,  
To make them show most beautiful and rare,  
With stately Lanterns, Pyramids, and things,  
Pictures of mighty Emperors and Kings,  
High turret's, towers, and curious phanes of price,  
As if it were the place of Paradise,  
While I am bare, and like a Chaos stand,  
That should be fairest prospect in the land.   

What is the reason I should be no higher?  
Because my chance was to be burnt with fire:  
Or do you think the charge but cast away  
That is bestowed on the Church decay?  
Or is it Merlin's sorceries and lies  
Hath made you fear with his false prophecies?  
Or what's the reason you should thus neglect  
To build me up again with fair prospect?   

I am God's house, consider than I pray,  
What cause there is that I should thus decay:  
Is it not pity I should ragged be,  
While on proud flesh such golden gauds I see?   

Alas for shame I cannot choose but blush,  
To see the world so stumble at a rush,  
Yet easily it skips and leaps o'er blocks,  
Not sparing charge, nor fearing any knocks.   

A thousand years I stood in prosperous state,  
And so remained till it was of late:  
My ancient Founders were my lovers dear,  
They spared no cost as doth full well appear:  
But raised me from the ground aloft the skies,  
To be a wonder for a world of eyes,  
And made my watchful cock stretch forth his wings,  
As doth the Lark when (mounting high) he sings  
Haleluiah with his pretty voice,  
And (nearest the Heavens,) more he doth rejoice.   

Then with the least air that in sky did blow,  
Which way the wind did set, my cock would show;  
Ah, then was I a Princely Monument,  
In sight of all that unto London went:  
And then had I the Commendation,  
And held in highest reputation:  
But now (like one forlorn,) I stand vnpitt'ed,  
As if I had some monstrous fault committed.   

Sometimes a view is made upon my wants,  
And then (twixt hope and fear) my heart it pants,  
But all in vain I hope, (alas my grief,)  
Surveyors gone, than this is my relief;  
To undertake so high a work to mend,  
Great is the charge (say some) and to no end,  
For (but for show) to what use will I serve,  
Whereby such cost on me, I should deserve?  
Which censure makes me linger in consumption,  
That to be cured I have small presumption.   

Fie, fie, where are the minds were heretofore?  
Are they grown poor, and will be rich no more?  
Or are the gold and silver Ages past,  
And now an iron Age, left at the last?  
Then woe is me, my hopes, are fond and vain,  
I never look to be repaired again.   

When first I was by Ethelbert began,  
No help was wanting could be found in man;  
The Labre'r would begin at work to sweat,  
Before he did desire to drink or eat;  
All workmen strived for to show their skill,  
Not so much for their gain, as in good will;  
Whether by task, or working by the day,  
Not one that would a minute spend in play;  
Nor would they slight their works as now men do,  
But wrought with Art and expedition too;  
One free days work in every week I know,  
They would on me most willingly bestow.   

What should I say? If I should go about,  
To reckon all particulars throughout;  
(The rules observed to begin and end,  
The gifts that many unto me did send,  
The solemn orders laying my first stone,  
With hallowing the ground I stand upon:  
The candles that were burned every night,  
At every time I grew a man in height,  
The noise of Drums▪ and eke of Trumpets sound,  
When first I did appear above the ground;  
The triumph made at my first Scaffolds raise,  
The solemn songs were sung in heavens praise:  
The number set on work by sea and land,  
As if the Christian world I might command;  
If I were best that useth swift to write,  
I could not in two years the same recite.   

And if so many men were in a plain,  
As for my good did labour and take pain,  
A royal army would appear to be,  
Of power to fight with mighty enemy.  
They wrought about me like the pretty bees,  
And every night went home with weary knees,  
And every morn came fresh to work again,  
As if the day before they felt no pain:  
Their honeydrops distilled from them apace,  
(I mean the sweat of every workman's face)  
Their labour was their festival for me,  
In hope my future prosperous state to see,   

A world it was to note how all were bend,  
How willingly their coin and time they spent,  
Without a Lotaty or forced collection,  
For all were free in any such good action:  
There was no pining at the Church expense,  
But all was brought in true Benevolence:  
And those that died in my diocese,  
Would will me something, more or less:  
At all communions, and marriage days,  
At Christen, and many other ways:  
The very poorest, would (without excuse)  
Send or give something to my proper use:  
And all to make me beautiful and fair,  
That Christ his flock might unto me repair,  
To teach and learn the Heavenly words of Grace,  
And so to grow and fructify apace,  
In all good ways of Christian Piety,  
Best pleasing to the Heavenly Deity.  
Which (in good time) is long since brought to pass,  
The like as never in any kingdom was:  
So that for preaching, I may now compare  
With all the Churches under heaven are.   

Praised be God whose goodness doth excel,  
Beyond what I can ask, or tongue can tell,  
From age to age, he still hath succoured me,  
And out of thrall for ever set me free.   

My inward garments, shine so bright and pure,  
As now no error can the same obscure:  
For on the Bread of life in me you feed,  
And do receive all things your souls do need;  
My Preachers bid you come, buy without money,  
Things sweeter than the honeycomb or honey;  
They tell you that the poor repentant sinner,  
Shall be invited to a Heavenly dinner;  
And how the wilful wicked are corrected,  
And from God's favour utterly rejected.  
They preach that pride shallbe consumed with fire,  
And God will raise the simple from the mire.  
They say that Envy is a murdering sin,  
Whilst neighbour-love the love of God dtoh win.  
They teach and prove that griping Covetousness,  
Is chiefest cause of sin and wickedness:  
Whilst Charity and fruits of Christian love,  
Doth please the Lord, and all his Saints above.  
They say in holy Scripture it is found,  
That all the world for drunken sin was drowned,  
And that with water was; but now I think,  
The greatest part will drowned be in drink.  
They say that gluttony and all excess,  
Shall punished be in Hell with pains endless:  
And that all whoredom, and adulterous acts,  
All poison, witchcrafs, and such wicked facts,  
Treason, perjury, cozenage, and lying,  
Unto the Lord of Hosts are daily crying.   

And thus they preach the Law and Gospel too,  
And faithfully God's holy work they do;  
And all to set you in the perfect way,  
That Heaven may yours be another day.   

By this you see how fair I am within,  
Oh blessed are they that did that work begin:  
And they that did and do maintain the same,  
Eternal be their Honour and their Fame:  
But such as seek that Glory to deface,  
Hell be their end, and in this life disgrace.   

Ah fair Eliza, now I think on thee,  
Full four and forty years thou succordst me,  
And didst defend me with thy awful sword,  
'Gainst proudest foes that did oppose God's word:  
And when away thou must from us be gone,  
God and thou send'st a second Solomon,  
By whom and by whose issue, I am sure,  
Paul's faithful doctrine shall with me endure;  
And be maintained, (maugre hellish spite)  
So long as Sun and Moon do yield their light.  
His words, His works, His will to God is bend,  
His Books do show that He from God is sent:  
For Proverbs to His Son He did declare, 
1. Basilicon-doron. 2. His Apology for the oath of Allegiance. 3. Canticum Canticorum.   
Than next a Preachers part He did not spare,  
The third His song of songs most sure shall be,  
That shall set forth His Kingly love to me,  
His chief delight is all in Trinity,  
Of them to make a perfect Unity.  
What is the good wherein He hath no part?  
What is the bad He hates not with His heart?  
Where are the poor that justly can complain,  
Whose needs. He helps not, and their right maintain?  
Where is the wight of worth and due desert,  
But of his Royal bounty hath had part?  
And where's the Princes that to Him resort,  
That do not of their welcome well report?  
And eke extol His great magnificence,  
His wisdom, learning, wit, and eloquence;  
As did the Queen of Saba (David's son,)  
So they admire our Royal Solomon,  
And say though times do alter and men's names,  
So that our Solomon is called JAMES,  
Yet for his wealth, his wisdom, strength and all,  
A Second Solomon you may Him call;  
His Land the Israel that flows with milk,  
And honey sweet, corn, cattle, cloth, and silk,  
Gold from all parts, spice, oil, and wine,  
Treasures from East and West, Pearls rich and fine;  
People innumerable as the sands,  
That well he may send out to foreign lands,  
Great store of them to place and plant elsewhere,  
That He an Israel new may build and rear,  
Whereby God's word throughout the world may go,  
As in the Scriptures Christ commanded so:   

Go ye preach and baptize in every coast,  
Inth' name of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost:  
Which worthy work his Highness hath begun,  
As much as any heretofore hath done:  
Virginnia, Sommer-islands, and the rest,  
Will testify in time how they are blest,  
By coming of His Subjects there to live,  
Which could not be, if He no leave did give.   

By which good means those which now Savage be,  
Will come in time to Christianity;  
If not the elder sort, the younger may,  
And after one age thousands every day.   

Though all things at the first seem hard to be,  
Yet good beginnings have good ends you see,  
So it be followed and well protected,  
And for God's glory chiefly be respected:  
No such beginnings need to fear good ends,  
For they shall have both God and King their friends.  
There is not any that for wise would pass,  
But holds that England as Virginnia was,  
And how it's now the world may judge with me,  
A braver Kingdom never eye did see;  
And so (in time) may poor Virginnia,  
If seconded by rich Brittannia.   

OH God, I pray thee bless this Royal JAMES, 
The prayer of Paul's.   
Q. ANNE, Prince CHARLES, their issue, & their realms,  
Prince PALATINE, and his ELIZA fair,  
Their Princely Babe and first borne Son and Heir;  
Feed them with Manna from thy mercyseat,  
Let thy Word be their only drink and meat:  
Bless all their Counsel (faithful, wise, and grave,  
With every gift good Counsellors should have:  
Their gracious and their reverend Bishops all,  
Bless likewise Lord; and more especial,  
Their Reverend Kingly Father of this See,  
Chief Lord and Preacher that belongs to me;  
Also their Dean and Chapter of this place,  
Bless with thy loving countenance and grace,  
And all the rest of godly Ministry,  
And daily them increase and multiply:  
Oh make their words and works for aye agree,  
That I the Halci●on days and hours may see.  
Bless all their Nobles, Knights, and Gentry all,  
Their Yeomanry, and Commons great and small.  
Bless both their Nurses of sweet learning's lore,  
And all good Students now and evemore:  
Bless Them from all designs of fear and blood,  
And from all things that are not for Their good:  
Poison the poisoners that seek Their death,  
And suffer not a Traitor once to breath;  
Root out the Romish double from their Land,  
That nought but plots of murder have in hand;  
Drive far from Them all Sorcerers and Devils,  
And still defend Them from pretended evils:  
Blow all the chaff away that spoils good corn,  
And let no vaulty villains more be borne;  
Set marks of powder-vengeance in their faces,  
And let it there abide to their disgraces.   

Yet Lord, thou art their potter, they the clay,  
Thy skill and will can work them any way:  
Then if it be thy will, for Honour make them,  
And in thine anger do not quite forsake them:  
Or as the Scripture saith, (a blessed story)  
Do what thou wilt, O God, for thine own glory.   

Bless this most famous City where I stand,  
The Flower, the Pearl, the gem of Britain Land,  
The Honourable Mayor of the same,  
The Sheriffs and the Aldermen by name,  
All other officers in their degree,  
And all good Citizens wheresoever they be.   

My Benefactors I do pray thee bless,  
And frame their hearts to give with willingness:  
So bless, O Lord, the Noble English hearts,  
That in Virginnia have done their parts;  
Encourage and increase them evermore,  
And still enrich their treasure and their store;  
Oh let all worthy minds emboldened be,  
To do the works that best may Honour thee.   

And I do pray thee sith the times grow ill,  
Teach all the ready way to do thy will;  
So by thy goodness sin may be overcome,  
And they prepared against the day of doom,  
To live with thee in thy eternal bliss▪  
Where they shall never any comfort miss;  
Unto which blessed place, Lord bring them still,  
That fear thy name, and strive to do thy will.   

AND now for to return where I left off,  
Lest some perhaps may rashly give ascoffe;)  
I must complain of more than yet you see,  
Which I desire may well amended be:  
My body round within, and eke without.  
My windows, and my pillars all about,  
My pavements, and my doors, my leads, my walls,  
And many other faults upon you calls,  
And craves repair against all wind and weather,  
That we may give you thanks for altogether.   

The Church the feminine gendor doth require,  
And like a Ladies should be her attire;  
Nay like an Empresses adorned, and graced,  
Within, without, in order all things placed;  
And chiefly that Church which is most insight,  
(The head, the members guide, and candlelight;)  
So should I be that all the world may know,  
Th'unfeigned love that Britain's hearts do owe  
To me their Princely Church, and Empress dear,  
In whom the word of God doth shine most clear.   

Say that you should upon your back bestow  
Rich clothing, as there's many do I know,  
And on your head a threedbare cap should wear,  
moth-eaten, and at every touch to tear;  
Would you not think that all which see you go,  
Can choose but wonder why you should do so?  
In all whatsoever like to like is best,  
If one part be well clothed, so let the rest;  
Or else that which is base makes all seem base,  
And by that fault doth all the rest disgrace.   

Were it not strange also (oh pardon me,)  
That any one within the Court should see  
Our Royal Queen attired in base array,  
And all her handmaides clothed in garments gay?  
I think 'twere strange, and such unseemly sport,  
As never will (I hope) be in our Court:   

Yet even so the case with me doth stand,  
That am the Queen of Churches in this Land:  
For in the middle of a matchless City,  
I stand like to a mourner, more the pity,  
Environed with buildings fair about,  
And I am tallest built in all the rout;  
All other Churches are but dwarves to me,  
Yet unto all beare-headed must I be;  
My head should wear the Crown full well I know,  
But that must stand upon the top of Bow: 
Bow steeple in Cheapside very well beautified at the cost of one Parish.   
Or else the shaft or spire that should be best,  
But that's upon S. Dunstanes in the East;  
My chime of fine small bells might well be heard,  
All London over, but I am afeard  
That some will say, what need such cost be there?  
Because (of chimes) there be enough elsewhere:  
But such Lobiectors I could wish were dead,  
That better minds might come in place and stead;  
Let such hoard up for Sir Hugh Prodigal,  
Or Sir Ralph Want▪ wit, you may noddy call,  
Whose back and belly cheer, Tobacco smoke,  
All good designs doth hinder, stifle, choke.   

Some few (I hope) the Lord will ever raise,  
To be the light and mirror of these days,  
That (in good time) will pity my complaint,  
And with my wants will all my friends acquaint,  
And stir them up to be as frank to me,  
As God (to them) is bountiful and free.   

One such a Sutton as of late did die,  
That turned  to charity,  
If to himself the honour he would have,  
With half that charge he might repair me brave;  
But such a worthy Phoenix is so rare;  
That hardly any will with him compare;  
Nay would ten thousand would now join in one,  
To do as much as he alone hath done.   

But stay a while (my Muse) no further go,  
What is the reason thou art grieved so?  
Let not fell anger in thy heart take place,  
But patiently I pray thee, bear a space;  
Not any of my coat should angry be,  
But gentle, mild, and full of courtesy;  
Nor should beggars, (men do say) be choosers,  
Lest craving all, they still are all the losers.   

I think now on a good conceit and true,  
That doth my comforts once again renew;  
For listening what the Princes said of late,  
(When they were pleased to be on my bald pate,)  
As I did understand this was their talk,  
As they (about) on every side did walk;  
Alas good Paul (saith one) how poor and bare,  
Thy head, thy sides, thy battlements now are?  
Is't possible that long thou shouldest thus stand,  
In such a City and a prosperous land?  
As I am Christian I'll speak for thee,  
That once again thou mayst triumphant be:  
Thy shaft shall up again, thy cock shall crow,  
Or else thou shalt be crowned as well as Bow:  
Which of these two will surest on thee stand,  
I will entreat thou mayest have out of hand:  
Comfort thyself (good Paul) be not dismayed,  
It shallbe done to thee, as I have said;  
To which the other Princes all agreed,  
And said it should be surely done with speed.   

THIS did I hear, or else was much deceived,  
And of my sense of hearing quite bereaved;  
But that's no marvel if it so should be,  
For age, and cold, breeds much infirmity,  
And waiting so long bearehead is a thing  
That (to the soundest) may diseases bring,  
And make him so benumbed, and so weak,  
That he shall hardly stand, or hear, or speak.  
Indeed I am or'eioyed, I must confess,  
When I am visited with Princely guests;  
For than I hope, some good will come to me,  
Towards relief of my necessity;  
So joy might make me to mistake their speech,  
Which (if I did) I humbly do beseech  
A pardon for this fault, and then hereafter  
I'll write of nothing but I'll bring mine Author,  
To verify the truth of that I writ,  
Or else my pen shall never more indite.   

And for my Writer also let me crave,  
His pardon likewise I would gladly have:  
His learning you may see is poor and weak,  
And I can make but signs, I cannot speak;  
I show'd my coat, my head, my broken sight,  
How poor it was, how bald and wanting light:  
Where●● he vowed, that he would never rest  
Until with state and beauty I were dressed;  
For which I must not show myself ingrate,  
But pray that he may live right fortunate:  
His meaning's good, that you may plainly see,  
Though he want Eloquence to polish me,  
Bear with his wants, accept of his good will,  
Encourage him that is well minded still.   

If once I were attired fair and brave,  
Then London all her ornaments shall have;  
All things would then be suitable to me,  
And to my friends most grateful will I be:  
For then will I when my Request is done,  
Send to the banks of learned Helicon,  
Or to Parnassus' mount, where Eloquence  
Doth pass my Authors dull intelligence,  
Where I shall find such fruits on Eden tree,  
As shall set forth their favours done to me;  
And on my Pinnacles there shall they place,  
Most thankful mottoes for my Founder's grace.  
And more to show their loves and good intents,  
They shall set poesies on my battlements,  
That shall my Benefactors love unfold,  
To all the world in sentences of gold.   

LetedLeted not be said when you for Christ his sake  
War with his enemies do undertake,  
That your religion doth with Church decay,  
But let your seen, your unseen zeal display;  
That valiantly you may yourselves express,  
Like Christians stout in weal or in distress,  
In spite of all that wicked wights can do,  
And for the glory of the Gospel too.   

Then famous Britain thou'lt be happy still,  
In godly pleasures thou shalt take thy fill:  
Fear thou no foes for Christ will be thy guard,  
Whose breath can make a mighty host afeard:  
Thy Kingly David also can dispute  
With Turk or Antichrist, and them confute;  
And when to wars his Highness shall incline,  
He'll quell the pride of stoutest Philistine,  
And in the mean time with a Bible-stone,  
Will dash his brains, and crush his greatest bone:  
For he that in his breast doth wear that shield,  
(As doth this David) needs not fear the field:  
But with true faith and courage he may meet  
Satan himself, and stamp him at his feet.   

His golden pen that wrote for Christ his sake,  
The Angels up to Heaven did it take,  
And bid Him be as bold with Pike as Pen,  
For He should be the only King of men,  
And that in Him and His posterity,  
Should be or'ethrowne all Popish heresy:  
Which Christ (I pray thee) grant it may be so,  
To all that Thy just quarrel undergo:  
For sweet's that BLOOD that in Thy cause is shed,  
As was Thy BLOOD that Thou for man hast bled.   

And now for to conclude what hath been said,  
I do beseech my poverty be weighed:  
Oh let not base Oblivion bury me,  
Lest in Oblivion I do bury thee,  
And scorn that thou shouldst build within my womb,  
To grace thyself with any sumptuous tomb,  
Where thy remembrance must endure for aye,  
And I poor Church be suffered to decay.  
My Innocence pleads no such Ignorance:  
But it I were disposed to cast a glance,  
I soon could find such costs on tombs laid out,  
As almost would amend me round about:  
These in my bowels near my heart must lie,  
And I poor ragged wretch must pity cry:  
And this the purse of ten or twelve have done,  
Yet left enough for wife, and every son.   

Can ten or twelve do so, and twice as much?  
And shall a City and a Kingdom grudge  
To give a trifle to so good a deed,  
As should relieve my poverty and need?  
And not so given, neither as quite lost,  
For that were vanity and idle cost;  
For from thee it doth go unto thy brother,  
(I mean the workman, and to many other.)   

That's cast away, that goes out of the Land,  
And comes no more in King or subjects hand:  
Or that that's hidden in the earth, or bags,  
While thy poor Brother's naked, or in rags.   

Oh come with gladness then unto this charge,  
Britain is wealthy, populous, and large,  
And those that give in love and charity,  
Into a Book let them recorded be,  
That children's children may hereafter know,  
The love their forefathers to me did owe;  
And be encouraged in their younger days,  
To do the works deserving lasting praise:  
For he that doth defer good deeds till death,  
Seld comes to good the thing he doth bequeath.   

ON bended knees of love and loyalty,  
And at the feet of Sovereign Majesty,  
King, Queen, and Prince, and Privy Counsellors,  
Archbishops, Bishops, Britain's Senators,  
Once more I do most humbly, beg and crave,  
That my defaults amendment now may have:  
Nobles, Knights, Gentry, Commons great and small,  
In love and reverence I pray you all,  
That ye these faults will help for to amend,  
For Britain's honour till the world doth end:  
Wives, and Widows, Maidens dying, living,  
Unto this work of Piety be giving;  
According to your works ye shall inherit,  
Yet for your works no place in Heaven can merit:  
For what is he that since the world began,  
Hath been so just, and so upright a man,  
Whose good works could exceed above his evil,  
But only He that conquered death and devil?  
That Christ, that Lamb, that Dove, that God-man, he  
Did only merit your eternity.  
To him therefore do you his praises send,  
And so of my Complaint I make an end.   
Laus Deo in aeternum.   

THE EPILOGUE:  
OR, An Ecstasy, which Paul's fell into after it had complained: partly of Hope, and partly of Fear.  

WHEN my complaint was ended, I amazed  
Stood, and beheld how people on me gazed:  
My thought that every one that walked by,  
Did look upon me with compassions eye:   

EXCEPT some twelve, and that was Envy one,  
A pale-faced fellow, wishing good to none:  
He vo'wd, and swore from his more gall than heart,  
Unto my need he would no penny part:  
His reason being asked, he replied,  
All others but his own good he defied.   

THE second was a miserable Chuff,  
He at at my mournful suit did storm and puff;  
And said, for all my poverty and rags,  
He would not part with money from his bags.  
Shall I (said he) give any thing to thee,  
If I should want, what canst thou give to me?   

THE third was Pride, and he did look so high,  
That he could not my poverty espy:  
To give (he said) it is not now the fashion;  
And for to beg, it's held abomination.   

THE fourth was Carelessness; his answer was,  
That for my need and wants he did not pass,  
His reason why he will no bounty give,  
Is 'cause (quoth he) I'll stand while he shall live,  
And so departs with scoffing, and with laughter,  
And bids them care that ought to care hereafter.   

THAN Pickthank comes, the fift he is in number,  
He pries in others faults, and makes great cumber,  
And for to save himself from any charge,  
He doth not care how he doth speak at large,  
And reckons up collections made before,  
(Enough for to relief my wants and more;)  
So that if others were i'th' mind he's in,  
He would see that before he would begin.   

Alas, if such a thing were done before,  
Let it not now be laid on good men's score;  
Whose wills are such (although they are not many)  
Me to repair without the help of any:  
But sith their means compareth not with mind,  
(Without some help) I can no comfort find.   

THAN Curiosity the sixth goes by,  
And cause he sees a moat in's brother's eye,  
(A word amiss, a syllable, or such,)  
To give a shilling therefore he doth grudge:  
And thus he peeps, and pries, and looks a squint,  
And thinks that beggars words should be past print:  
When (God doth know) if he were charitable,  
The plainest terms should serve if he were able.   

THE seventh, Prodigality that ass,  
(That by Duke Humphrey oft doth hungry pass,)  
He says, Tobacco, Claretwine, and Sack  
He will not want, though twenty Churches lack;  
To plays, and playing, tailor, or to launder,  
Or for a toy, he cares not how he squander:  
But when poor Virtue doth but cravea groat,  
He's ready in his wrath to cut her throat.   

THAN comes the eight, (Hail master) with his train,  
He says, what needs such waist? it is but vain:  
It had been better given unto the poor,  
That beg about the streets from door to door:  
But such a judas (if he bear the bag,)  
Hath no intent the poor should have a rag.   

THE ninth I take it was a jesuite,  
(For I did hear him mumble words of spite)  
And swore by all the black deeds he intended,  
He'd rather hang than I should be amended:  
Hang then (quoth I,) or get thee going further,  
For thy delight's in ruin and in murder:  
Thy curse can do no harm, thy bless no good,  
Nor all such villains as delight in blood:  
For God in holy Scripture hath appointed,  
That none should hurt his Church or his Anointed:  
Therefore avaunt thou wolf in lambskins clothed,  
For through the world thy acts and deeds are loathed.   

THAN comes the tenth an Atheist, not an Ar'in,  
(Though both I do esteem as dung or carrin;)  
He vexed and stormed that any Church should be  
Where Souls should worship any Deity:  
A man to seem he was, but not God's creature,  
Because he held all things proceed by nature.   

THE leaventh was a brother seeming pure,  
That no good works will hear of or endure,  
And all the comfort which to me he saith,  
That I (Ass he,) must stand and live by faith;   

By faith (quoth I,) what faith dost thou live by?  
By faith it's good when in good faith you lie;  
If I had not a Faith, more sure, more humble,  
I soon should crack, and rend, and fall, and tumble: 
The surest foundation of Paul's is the Church under it called S. Faith.   
Wherefore be gone (Profane) thy faith deceives,  
And all the world of charity bereaves.   

THE twelu'th and last, a clouted shoe did wear,  
And in his hand a hedging bill did bear:  
(I mean the wretched man, that is so cruel,  
That makes his muck, his Idol and his jewel,)  
He says and swears, (and yet he prates and lies)  
That all his wealth's not worth two apple pies;  
When (if he were) to take a goodly varme,  
Or in some spite to do his neighbour harm,  
His jug and he agree both in one zound,  
And from their hutch can fetch a hundred pound;  
And yet he pines and pules for doing good,  
As if in poverty and want he stood.  
And thus with grief of mind, and in some fury,  
I have empaneled up my unkind jewe-ry,  
Whose verdict would be such if they may speak,  
As would my head, and heart for sorrow break.   

But now these unkind twelve are gone and passed,  
Twelve hundred thousand I espy at last,  
Virtues well-willers men of charity,  
Such as do pray for my prosperity.   

They say I may without be decked brave,  
Yet in my inward parts no pride may have;  
I may have carerings, coronets, and laces,  
I may have lovers, kisses, and embraces;  
I may have Honour due unto a Queen,  
And all this while no pride in me is seen:  
I may have any thing to make me fair,  
That all truths lovers may to me repair,  
And be enamoured at my lovely face,  
And strive who most can enter to my grace:  
Not as the wicked money-changing-rout,  
(In time of prayer) walk my Isles about,  
And make their bargains, and their idle meetings,  
With many false, and feigned news, and greetings:   

But as my friends in fervent zeal and motion,  
Come for to hear God's word with sound devotion;  
My thinks they look, and smile, and speak, and give,  
And wish that I triumphantly might live;  
They do not seek for faults, as others do,  
But do good deeds, and yet are faithful too:  
They sound no trumpets when they give their alms,  
They have in them no peevish froward qualms;  
But all in love and dove-like charity  
They give, and give in Christian verity:  
Wherefore (as is my duty) I will pray  
That God will bless them all both night and day.    

THE DREAM.  

ON the one and twenti'th day,  
Of the pleasant month of May,  
To a grove I did repair,  
All alone to take the air;  
Sweet it was, and fresh, and green,  
Decked like a Summer Queen:  
Where abiding privately,  
I did here fine melody:  
Philomela did chant and sing,  
welcoming the cheerful spring:  
Every bird did strain her throat,  
Warbling out her pretty note.   

Walking there a little space,  
At last I went with nimble trace,  
To a river somewhat near,  
That had water pure and clear:  
Fishes there did leap and play,  
Swans did sing their roundelay.  
So I set me down to rest,  
In a place that liked me best;  
And being there a little while,  
Slumber did mine eyes beguile,  
Till at last a sleep did take me,  
That no noise till night could wake me:  
The place was sure, and I was bold,  
The air was pure, not hot nor cold:  
My pillows were green grass and flowers,  
The willows were my shady bowers;  
My little dog did so attend me,  
That no creature could offend me.   

In this sleep (good Christian people,)  
I dreamt of a Church and steeple,  
Which at first my thought was bare,  
As many other ruins are,  
Weather-beaten and much worn,  
Raged, deformed, cracked, and torn,  
Without battlement or grace,  
Too too mean for such a place:  
For my thought this Church did stand,  
In best city of this land,  
And for seat and eminence,  
Had the chief pre-eminence:  
Wondrous great it was in sight,  
And of admirable height:  
King and people might it see,  
How it was in poverty:  
And all strangers well might say,  
'Twere pity it should so decay,  
Where God's word is well regarded,  
And his Preachers are rewarded.   

In this dream (though fast I slept)  
Yet (with tears) I truly wept,  
And did pray that God would bless,  
Such as would this Church redress.   

After tears were overpast,  
joy did visit me at last,  
For my thought this Church was mended,  
And the steeple was befriended.   

Fashions many I did see,  
Ere any fashion pleased me;  
One as before (a seemly spire)  
Which was burned down with fire;  
One like Pulchres, one like Bow,  
One like Boston was I trow;  
One Grantham▪ like I did espy,  
But his top stood not awry:  
And many other I did see,  
In this dreaming fantasy;  
But that which seemed to be best,  
Follows after all the rest,  
Which if your pleasure be to read,  
You'll say it was the best indeed.   

My thought the steeple was ta'en down,  
Lower than the Church's crown,  
And suddenly was raised again,  
With good labour not in vain:  
Square it was as 'twas before,  
Twelve foot higher 'twas and more;  
Round the top a battlement,  
Seemly, fair, and excellent;  
Above that battlement full high,  
Four pinnacles I did espy,  
Hollow, and of stone so sure,  
That till dooms day would endure:  
On the top of every one,  
Was a little spire of stone,  
At the feet whereof there went,  
A little pretty battlement:  
Round about these battlements  
Were fine phanes and ornaments,  
By whose motion without stay,  
drove the crows and kites away:  
In each fane was gilded the Coat  
Of benefactors of best note;  
And in a place convenient,  
On th'inside of each battlement,  
A poesy thus was set in gold,  
As underneath you may behold;  
All glory be to God on high,  
And to this Church prosperity.   

These pinnacles four pictures had,  
Which to see did make me glad;  
That which stood next to the West,  
Had his face towards the East;  
Looking with majestic grace,  
For to see his saviours face;  
A King he was, a Crown he wore,  
God bless him now and evermore:  
For sure as London hath a Thames,  
It was the picture of King james:  
His Arms were in the highest fane,  
And then many noble man,  
Had their Arms under His,  
Round that battlement I wisse:  
Like to spangles they did show,  
Unto such as were below;  
And they that did to th'top resort,  
Might say it did belong toth' Court:  
His Kingly motto there was placed,  
Which the Pinnacle most graced:  
Evil come to illintenders,  
Good to all true Faith's Defenders.   

THAN I looked to that i'th' East,  
Where a Bishop was at least,  
Opposite unto the King,  
Which to me much joy did bring;  
In one hand he had a Book,  
Wherein he seemed for to look,  
In a sweet and reverend wise,  
Well beseeming such a guise:  
His other hand did touch his tongue,  
And a sentence thus he sung;  
To my Saviour I'll be true,  
And this Church shall have her due.  
On the top his Scutcheon stood,  
Which to see it did me good;  
Under that were all others,  
Which by calling were his brothers:   

This Pinnacle did plainly show  
The reverend Bishops did it owe,  
And the Clergy with them joined,  
Because they would not be behind.   

THAN I saw towards the North,  
Another pinnacle of worth;  
Where was sitting in a chair,  
One resembling a Lord Maior;  
The City Arms were highest there,  
Under that all Cities were:  
A Ship was carved there also,  
As if she on the Sea did go:  
Then a motto there was set,  
Which the City grace did get:  
Walworth killed rebel Straw,  
'Cause he spurned 'gainst King and Law;  
So by our truth and industry,  
God makes our City multiply:  
Let rebels swagger how they will,  
We will be true and loyal still.  
This pinnacle belongs to'th'Citie,  
The motto is more true than witty.   

THAN to the South I turned mine eye,  
And in that Pinnacle did spy  
A Countryman the plough to hold,  
A comely Farmer somewhat old,  
A Wheat-sheafe was his Arms I trow;  
And the rest that stood below,  
Were implements of husbandry,  
Set in the phanes most handsomely:  
And his motto thus was framed,  
As here underneath is named:  
Plain I am as you may see,  
Yet the Best grow rich by me.   

TWIXT each Pinnacle there was,  
Pyramids that did surpass,  
For beauty and for seemly form,  
Strong enough for any storm.   

In the middle of each square,  
There they stood and placed were.   

One had the picture of a Queen,  
The fairest that mine eyes have seen,  
Who surely as I'm honest man,  
Seemed to be our Royal Anne:  
For it had such Majesty,  
Joined with gentle clemency,  
That certainly it was the same,  
Which before I seemed to name.   

Her motto on the same was set,  
Which I never shall forget:  
Fair without, and grace within,  
Are beauties fit for Church and Queen.  
And the poesy general,  
Which I named first of all,  
That was placed in degree,  
As high as all the others be:  
All glory be to God on high, etc.   

THE second Pyramids had,  
The picture of a royal Lad,  
Which I imagined ever since,  
Did resemble Charles our Prince,  
By each part of limb and feature,  
He did seem a Kingly creature;  
Stout and bold, gentle, free,  
And all that in good princes be:   

His motto now I will set forth,  
cause it was a thing of worth:  
I scorn the fear of shedding blood,  
For God, for Church, for Country's good;  
But for all these I'll war and fight,  
As Kings and Princes should by right:  
I will help the poor oppressed,  
And those which truly are distressed.   

THE third as fair as was the rest,  
With Elizabeth was blest,  
Rhynes sweet Princess, Britain's joy,  
Holding in her arms a Boy,  
Whom (if Art do not dissemble)  
Her first borne He did resemble.   

At which sight I was amazed,  
And with joy on them I gazed,  
Ravished with admiration  
At this delectable fashion,  
Thinking if such great delight,  
Can be in the pictures sight;  
What would then the substance be,  
Unto him that may them see:  
I am sure to me 'twas Treasure  
For to see them in this measure.   

Her motto now I will declare,  
Kill me, if the same I spare:  
In the Church's wealth and peace,  
Good things prosper and increase:  
But if she whither and decay,  
All God's blessings fleet away.  
IN the fourth fair Pyramid,  
Two other Pictures I espied,  
One of Denmark's royal King,  
Whose fame with us shall ever ring,  
And shall be linked in this knot,  
Where He shall never be forgot:  
Three Queens in one is His Sister,  
Twice in England hath he kissed her,  
With such great joy on all parts,  
As pleased ten hundred thousand hearts.   

His motto was as doth ensue,  
Believe me it is very true;  
I Christian King of Denmark, give  
My love to These, while I do live,  
And will assist with power and sword,  
My kindred, friends, the Church, God's word.   

BY him was Prince Palatine,  
Looking on his Valentine;  
Each to other seemed to glance,  
With a cheerful countenance,  
In such an amiable sort,  
As my soul did therein sport;   

This Prince a Motto did unfold:  
Fit and worthy to be told:  
God's spouse and mine I will maintain,  
So long as I do live and reign,  
Turk, Pope, nor devil, shall them fright,  
Or do them hurt by day or night,  
And in this Gordian knot will I  
Be knit in love until I die.   

THAN in the middle of the square  
Where all these brave pictures were,  
There was raised (ten foot higher)  
A curious and a costly spire:  
And at the top thereof a Cross  
Of Silver guilt and not of dross;  
Then a gallant cock to show,  
Which way still the wind did blow;   

In this place good Art was tried,  
How to make it sure abide,  
And accordingly 'twas framed,  
That no workman could be blamed;  
Not too weighty nor too light,  
Like Cheape-crosse it was in sight,  
But the pictures there that stood,  
Were of Princes that were good,  
That this Church did erst advance,  
And gave it store of maintenance.  
And first the lowest placed there,  
Elizabeth and Henry were,  
One of proof one of hope,  
Better Princes Heavens cope  
Ever had or ever can,  
Be better amongst the sons of man:  
Then betwixt them I espied,  
Two Princesses that lately died,  
Which looked like those of King james,  
Gotten since he dwelled by Thames.   

And above in the next round,  
Other Princes there I found,  
Pictured all in their degree,  
As by time now dead they be:  
There in letters of pure gold,  
Their right names I did behold;  
And I think in hollow brass,  
Every picture shaped was.   

This spire was hollow, and with lead  
Round about 'twas covered;  
Framed with oaken timber pure,  
Such as ever will endure:   

In that hollow was nought else,  
But a score of little bells,  
Which the Art of witty times  
Made a delectable chymes:  
Who being high, their pretty sound  
Might be heard the City round.   

In the midst of th'upper fit,  
A pair of wooden stairs were wrought,  
And a door at that stairs head,  
Which did bring me to the lead;  
Where my thought I did behold,  
All that I before have told.   

As about the leads I went,  
And saw all things so excellent,  
Looking over, I did see  
The Church likewise as it should be,  
With new battlements about,  
And walls mended throughout;  
All the windows where need was,  
Were amended with pure glass:  
Not any thing that wanted there,  
But was repaired every where,  
Never did I see a thing,  
Of more worth and reckoning▪  
Than this vision which I  
In my sleep did plain espy.   

Had I been an Architect,  
Dreaming of this fair prospect,  
Or with true terms could relate,  
All the fashion, form, and state,  
Then might I say it taught me more  
Than any practice did before;  
But many things of note and worth,  
I am not able to set forth.   

After long I had beheld  
The outward beauty it did yield,  
Then I was upon the pin,  
To see what Grace it had within;  
Down I went, (my thought in haste,)  
But my speed did prove in waist:  
For (to me) its grief to tell;  
I was waked by a bell,  
And my dog began to bay,  
At a frog leapt cross my way;  
By which means I did not see,  
How the same within might be;  
And more worse (to end my theme)  
It vexed me 'twas but a dream;  
Well I wished the Sexton hanged,  
And my dog I sound banged:  
Yet to give them both their right  
'Twas time to go for it was night;  
And I think my foolish cur  
Knew 'twas fit for me to stir:  
So away I run in haste,  
And came safely home at last:  
Where with pen I did record  
All I dreamt word by word▪  
And I hope it's not amiss,  
To place it where it placed is.   

THUS you see (good people all)  
What is done for London's Paul;  
If in aught my Dream prove true,  
Let it be as't pleaseth you:  
Though I dream I do not teach,  
That's a strain beyond my reach;  
Since I learned my Cross row letters,  
I left all teaching to my betters;  
And leave it will unto my end,  
So good Reader be my friend.   

The Book to PAUL'S.  

ACcording as you do command,  
I will fly about the Land,  
To Court, Clergy, Country, City,  
For to find out Lady pity:  
If I find Her and return me,  
Pray take order none may burn me:  
Though I be but poor and plain,  
I may bring you store of gain:  
For this Lady doth not care,  
(In pious uses) what she spare:  
To the Church she is more free  
Than thousands other Ladies be.    

The answer of PAUL'S.  

BOOK I thank thee for thy love,  
And do pray to God above,  
Thou mayst find this Lady out,  
Where thou goest round about;  
That thou mayst return again,  
With a labour not in vain.   

For thy burning take no care,  
Thou wilt surely better fare;  
I will keep thee in record,  
Till the coming of the Lord.  
And thy Author here shall rest,  
Whilst his soul with God is blest.    
FINIS.