A brief some of the Treason intended against the King and State, when they should have been assembled in Parliament. Novemb. 5. 1605. with certain other English Metres, which may be called: A dying repentance, or A mournful Song for Traitors to make use of now begun by one of Babingtons' company.  

Hear the verse which doth rehearse,  
briefly this  
traitors platform, which should reform  
things amiss.  
First in England, then in Scotland,  
with such praise  
As should make them famous State-men,  
all their days.  
Powder Barrels must end quarrels,  
for us all:  
King and Subject, Lord and abject,  
great and small.  
Bands of P P P 
Popes, Priests & Papists.  of all degrees,  
have sought still:  
English Britain's  
utter ruin by their skill.  
But since Adam, none could fathom,  
plots like this.  
Which November, may remember,  
to our bliss.  
Some good men say, that beyond Sea,  
this began:  
Fawkes and Winter, first did venture,  
to go on.  
These came over, and won other,  
to this action:  
Piercy, 
With many others afterwards.  Catesby, wright's and Digby,  
12. in faction.  
Thus did Thewdas, Cain and judas,  
vow and swear: 
G●n. 4. Nat. 26. Act. 5.   
Take their Sacrament, and all to work  
this gear.  
Prince of darkness, and hell's blackness,  
was their leader:  
Piercy Papist, masked Atheist,  
banners spreader.  
juggling Jesuits, with their false sleights,  
many a one:  
Like lewd Strumpets, and loud Trumpets,  
sets them on.  
Thus resolving, and revolving,  
of their plot:  
God and duty, to their Country,  
was forgot.  
Some resorted, and reported,  
to the crew:  
Of this wonder, and great thunder,  
to ensue.  
Some were Pioneers, under-mynors,  
by consent:  
Of the upper house and Rome's,  
of Parliament.  
Some hired Vault room, and brought in soon,  
Coals and Wood:  
To lay over, all the powder,  
as it stood.  
Trains were all spread, and Pipes of Lead,  
laid with match:  
Bars and Wedges, Stones and Sledges,  
to dispatch.  
Traitor Standly, must lead manly,  
Rebels Stout:  
Owin wyely, must bring slily,  
this about.  
Proclamation, for a fashion,  
they had printed:  
That Puritan, the State had slain, and Gods anointed.  
This gross slander, as commander,  
from the Devil:  
Should have passed, and defaced,  
good for evil.  
But I wish still, even with good will,  
Papists were:  
So converted, and true hearted,  
as these are.  
Then no question, but Religion,  
still should flourish:  
And no peril, strife or quarrel,  
we should nourish.  
But these killed, and Streets filled,  
with their blood:  
Protestants by Papists vaunts,  
should do small good.  
Our King's Daughter shortly after,  
she should reign:  
And so quiet all this riot  
soon again.  
But how long, without all wrong,  
this young Queen,  
Should be suffered and not smothered,  
is not seen.  
Then believe them, you that shrieve them  
for not I:  
Will give credit to this edict,  
hastily.  
For, will Wolf keep, Lamb of that Sheep,  
he hath eat:  
And not rather, soon devour it,  
As his meat?  
These beloved, this is proved,  
every day:  
Where the Papist, or the Atheist  
do keep sway.  
God's most sweet word should not be stirred,  
yet awhile:  
Till to Protestants, and all,  
they might give foil.  
Oft returning, and reiourning,  
Parliament:  
Never moved them, as behooved them,  
to repent.  
They were careless bold and fearless,  
in the act:  
Popes great Pardon was their Garden,  
for this fact.  
But these Zimries, that would surprise,  
and spoil all:  
God forsakes them, and betakes them,  
to their fall.  
For when each thing, had settling,  
and day came:  
God bewrayed them, & dismayed them.  
to their shame.  
By a Letter, and no better  
without doubt:  
To preserve one from this platform,  
all came out.  
King and Counsel, noted this well,  
and did send:  
Twice to search out, things then in doubt  
and their end.  
Fawkes at midnight, and by torch light,  
there was found:  
With long matches and devices,  
under ground.  
Having found him, there they bound him,  
and then sought:  
For the Powder and provision  
in the vault.  
This perceived, Fawkes bereaved,  
of his sense.  
Said the Devil, did that evil,  
for our defence.  
Yea this dreamer, and blasphemer,  
Satan's Son:  
Oft relented, and repent,  
deed not done.  
To the Court then, go these glad men,  
to declare:  
All and each thing, to our good King,  
they found there.  
This laid open, bawd was broken,  
of this train.  
And their gladness, turned to madness,  
in the brain.  
Some road Northward, some Northwestward  
there to show:  
That their treachery, and their butchery,  
State did know.  
Then like Wilde-men, and most vilde-men,  
in strange fashion:  
They got Armour, Shot and Powder,  
for commotion.  
Horse in Stable, strong and able,  
they stole out:  
Thus the compn'y, road the country,  
all about.  
In the mean time, thus their foul crime,  
was proclaimed:  
And so Papists, with wild Atheists,  
made ashamed.  
Thus confounded, some were wounded,  
as they fled:  
Some are taken, all forsaken,  
some are dead.  
Musket-Bullet, leaden pellet,  
made them stand:  
Powder drying, marred their flying,  
out of hand.  
House end blown out, some eyes burnt out,  
they could say:  
God offended, was revenged,  
there that day.  
And thus spoiled, they were foiled,  
in that place:  
Doors set open, as a token,  
of some grace.  
Then to prison, as good reason,  
did require:  
Sheriff conveyed them, and so paid them  
part of hire.  
And in good time, they for this crime,  
were sent up:  
To the counsel, for to drink well,  
of one cup.  
Heads of Catesby, and of Piercy,  
they were sent:  
And set upon, the upper house,  
of parliament.  
Bravely plodding, yea and nodding,  
each to other.  
Thanking Pope, for Axe and Rope,  
for them and other:  
Such a downfall, to the Papal,  
none alive:  
But these Traitors, and their way●●s,  
could contrive.  
This foul faction, and wild action,  
will convince:  
Pope and Popelings, Friars and Shavelings,  
long time hence.  
Babes unborn, will hate and scorn,  
such as these:  
Papists O●spring, will for this thing,  
find small ease.  
God our keeper, is no sleeper,  
this is known:  
But attend us, and defend us,  
as his own.  
Devilish Treason, hath no reason,  
night or day:  
Proud ambition, makes sedition,  
every way.  
Their aspiring, and their firing,  
comes from hell:  
The unkindness, grows of blindness,  
most can tell.  
Bankrupt fellows, blow the bellows  
to Commotion:  
And their backside, must be covered,  
with devotion.  
Rome's Religion, pretty Pigeon,  
of the Pope:  
Some would bring in, by this foul sin,  
to have scope.  
And the Gospel, which doth expel,  
all their dross:  
With our Preachers, and professors,  
they would cross▪  
These wild rangers, would bring Strangers,  
here to reign:  
Or in all things, make themselves Kings,  
by their gain.  
This performed, men well armed,  
then should rise:  
And cry kill, kill, all sorts still, still,  
in strange wise.  
Then to rifling, without trifling,  
these would run:  
Yea to spoiling, and defiling,  
this kingdom.  
Thus were these bent, with full intent,  
treacherously:  
To blow up all, & make much thrall,  
suddenly.  
Popish preesthoode, never yet good,  
prate and pray:  
That their Popery, and their fopery,  
might bear sway.  
But their praying, for betraying,  
King and State:  
God and Angels, Saints and Virgins,  
still doth hate.  
All late Queen's time, this their foul crime,  
God put by:  
And still saved, his anointed,  
wondrously.  
Yet they seek still, more Kings to kill,  
which doth grow:  
By their writing, and inditing,  
which teach so.  
In Petitions, great submissions,  
they do offer:  
And to fashion, toleration,  
much they proffer.  
But denied, this is spied  
sword and fire,  
Blood and Murder, they will further,  
and require.  
Thus their knotting, and their plotting,  
God doth know:  
And this wild rout, he still brings out,  
to their woe.  
Read each story, to God's glory,  
of these things:  
English writings, have indighting,  
for our Kings.  
In the mean time, let our hearts climb,  
to the sky:  
With all due praise, to God always,  
for safety:  
And our trust is, that true justice,  
shall take place:  
On offenders, and abetters,  
in this case.  
All our care then, is that good men,  
we may prove:  
Serving God still, doing his will,  
live in love.  
Preach now and pray, teach youth I say,  
still to know:  
How our good Lord, by his pure word,  
keeps from woe.  
Eighty eight year, we in God's fear,  
may remember:  
Gowries August, Pereyes' unjust,  
fifth November.  
These things require, Bells and bonfires,  
on this day:  
Music most sweet, now were as meet,  
to show joy.  
Lovely feasting, without wasting,  
once a year:  
Alms deeds giving, with good living,  
let appear.  
And take heed still, that the self will,  
of this swarm:  
Grow not desperate, to exasperate,  
some new harm.  
Now for our King, and Queen living,  
let us pray:  
That Prince & Peers, may Nestor's years,  
time enjoy.  
Two young Babies, Princely Ladies,  
of our King:  
God that saved them, still preserve them,  
in each thing.  
All three Kingdoms, with their Earldoms,  
and true Pastors:  
God stand for us, and defend us,  
from all Traitors.   

A form of true Repentance, fit for Traitors to Sing and use now, and at all times while life is in them: made in part by one of Babingtons' Conspiracy. And may be sung to the tune of the 25. Psal.  

MY prime of youthful years, 
 is but a frost of cares,  
My crop of Corn is turned now, 
 into a field of tars.  
The day is fled and gone, 
 yet saw I not the Sun,  
I seem to live, yea live I do, 
 and yet my life is done.   

The spring for me is past, 
 and yet it hath not sprung:  
My aged days are growing on, 
 and yet I am but young.  
My third is cut in two: 
 and yet it is not spun,  
I seem to live, yea live I do, 
 and yet my life is done.   

I sought for mirth and joy, 
 Yet found I nought but pain:  
My tree is dead, though leaves be green, 
 and loss is all my gain.  
My glass was set but late, 
 and yet the same is run:  
I seem to live, yea live I do, 
 and yet my life is done.   

If subject I had been, 
 and nought else could I be:  
Then had I never heard or seen, 
 the sorrows now I see.  
But I a kingdom sought, 
 or else a State-mans' room:  
Wherefore I am most justly brought, 
 alive unto my Tomb.   

All men be ruled my be, 
 lean not to Papistry:  
For sure the same can not endure; 
 it works such treachery.  
Ah woe to all that sleep, 
 or will be blind at noon:  
They seem to live, yea live they do, 
 and yet their life is done.   

Lord jesus save my soul, 
 thy mercy be my merit:  
Forgive the sin that I am in, 
 that heaven I may inherit.  
O let me not believe, 
 of purgatory doom:  
For than I shall but seem to live, 
 when this my life is done.   

The Commons every one, 
 whom we meant to destroy:  
And with Gunpowder to blow up, 
 in secret suddenly:   

Like Constantine the Emperor, 
 he doth begin his royal Reign:  
Whereat his foes are daunted much, 
 and seeks to him for grace amain.  
Lord make their peace to be in thee, 
 and then thrice happy shall we be.  
God save King james, etc.   

The Gospel pure he doth maintain, 
 among us preached as before:  
Blind ignorance it shall not reign, 
 as some did hope and threaten sore.  
Our Realm God hath established, 
 and former fears from us are fled.  
God save King james, etc.   

Lift up your hearts to God on high, 
 and sing with one consent of mind:  
Laude and praise to the Trinity, 
 for our good King that is so kind,  
Let us rejoice in God alway: 
 that we have seen this happy day.  
God save King james, etc.   

All Countries join with us in Love, 
 to beat down Turk and Pope apace:  
The King and Counsels acts approve, 
 let virtue now all vice deface.  
Amidst all joys prepare to die, 
 that we may live eternally.  

God save King james, and still pull down,  
All those that would annoy his Crown.    
Amen.   

Another Song in Commendations of the Kings most excellent Majesty, to be sung at any time, but chiefly on his Coronation day.  

Let men and Angels witness bear,  
of our unfeigned joy:  
That we express with heart and tongue,  
for our good King this day.   

The Ditty or Song.  

GReat Britain pleasant Paradise, 
 praise thou the Lord with me:  
And thank him for his benefits, 
 That he bestows on thee.  
But chiefly for his holy word, 
 and for our Royal King:  
The fame of whom in Europe wide, 
 all Christians true will sing.  
Let men and Angels, etc.   

In juda and in Israel, 
 were Kings of noble fame:  
Who did set up Religion, 
 and nourished the same.  
David and Solomon his Son, 
 josias and the rest:  
Like whom our King began his Reign, 
 and shall like them be blest.  
Let men and Angels, etc.   

In Egypt Saba ruled well, 
 at Troy, Casindra sat:  
At Athens, did Minerva dwell, 
 Samose was junos' state.  
Sibella lay in Cuma fair, 
 in Greece, Penelope:  
And in this Realm King james doth Reign, 
 more famous than all they.  
Let men and Angels, etc.   

The Muses nine and Worthies all, 
 the Arts and Graces seven:  
All these do now agree in one, 
 in him to make their heaven.  
Yea heaven and earth, with all good things, 
 do favour him we see:  
The Lord therefore continue him, 
 in Britain long to be.  
Let men and Angels, etc.   

In these his days when he began, 
 To wear the Crown and Reign:  
God by his hand established us: 
 and made us glad and fain.  
In these his days all fear, began 
 to fly and fall to ground:  
And every way our quiet state, 
 began much to abound.  
Let men and Angels, etc.   

Wherefore as Iewes rejoiced much, 
 when jubylies drew near:  
As Moses with the Israelites, 
 keep solemn Feasts each year,  
As Hester eke with Mardochai, 
 did days of Purim hold:  
So let great Britain keep this day, 
 and grave the same in gold.  
Let men and Angels, etc.   

Pray for the King and his Offspring, 
 all signs of joy express:  
For in one day both grief and joy, 
 did wait on us doubtless.  
A Christian Constantine we have, 
 Lord give him length of days,  
To all his Kingdoms further bliss, 
 and Gods eternal praise.  

Let men and Angels witness bear,  
of our unfeigned joy:  
That we express with heart and tongue,  
for our good King this day.     
Amen.   

An Anthem often Sung in the Royal Chapel of our late Queen Elizabeth, in any time of danger: Made in Anno. Dom. 1588.  
And may serve at all times for us.  

Deliver us O Lord, 
 from all our foes that be,  
And eke defend all Christian souls, 
 that put their trust in thee.  
Preserve us still good Lord, 
 from all: the wicked train  
From such as long and thirst for blood, 
 and doth thy truth disdain▪   

Our enemies be strong, 
 thou Lord the same dost know:  
Without offence on our parts done, 
 to them, that seek our woe.  
Ourselves, our cause, and all, 
 to thee we do commend:  
From traps, from snares, and bloody hands, 
 good Lord still us defend.   

Our hope and help O Lord, 
 hath ever been in thee:  
And thou according to thy word, 
 dost still deliver me.  
O Christ come end our strife, 
 the cause is wholly thine:  
Wherefore it shall while I have life, 
 have help of me and mine.   
FINIS.   

Some other Monuments and Memorandums of Popery, (which together with the Precedent Metres) may well be entitled as followeth: 

The Smoke of Enborne in Berkshire. Anno. 1604.  
The sparks of Allens-more in Herefordshire. 1605.  
And the flames intended at the Parliament house. 1605.   All which, broke out of the fiery Coals which burned, and was but as it were taked up in the breasts, bosoms, and hearts of Papists: till they perceived that the kings Majesty would not have, allow of, nor tolerate a Mulish, or Lincy-Wolsey Religion in England: & then their madness did appear, and this fire began to kindle. etc.  

To the different, and indifferent Readers, I. R. wisheth grace and Peace.  
Perceiving that these leaves going before, would contain too small a volume: I thought it convenient to make some supply, & remembering that I had the railing Libel that Papists scattered in Enborne Church in Berkshire, together with a preface & some part of the answer to the same: As also the sum & effect of the Commotion of Papists in Herefordshire: thought it good to fix them to these Metres. I knowing the certainty of the one by the printed Book, put out thereof in prose by M. Thomas Hamon etc. And of the other mentioned in part by good M. Powel in his Book to the Puritan Papist, therefore I say, I have been the more willing to add the same to the rest of my Book, hoping of good acceptance for the same: seeing that I mean it for the instruction of the ignorant, and the recreation of others, and not otherwise.  
Yours in the Lord. I. Rhodes.   

The true copy of the railing Libel, left or cast into the Church of Enborne in Berkshire, as I received the same.  
The superscription in Prose. To the Parson of Enborne, give this with speed.  
A post Script under the superscription. THe Carrier is paid already, as much as he looketh for, and so it shall cost you nothing but the reading: & would you have it better cheap?  
The Title or Inscription. 

TO the Heretical Parson of Enborne, due commendation,  
Wishing him Catholic mind or else no salvation.    
The Libel itself after his manner of rhyming. 

NOw Master Parson for your welcome home,  
Read these few lines you know not from whom    
Of their Popish Crosse. 

Hold Cross for an outward token & sign,  
And remembrance only, in Religion thine:  
And of the profession the People do make,  
For more than this comes too, thou dost it not take,  
Yet holy Church tells us, of holy Cross much more,  
Of power and of virtue, to heal sick and sore.  
Of holiness to bless us, and keep us from evil.  
From foul fiend to fend us, and save us from devil,  
& of many miracles, which Holy-Crosse hath wrought  
All which by tradition, to light, Church hath brought  
Wherefore holy worship, holy-church doth it give:  
And sure so will we, so long as we live.  
Though thou sayst Idolatry, and wild superstition,  
Yet we know it is Holy Church's Tradition.  
Holy-Crosse then disgrace not, but bring in renown,  
For up shall the Cross go, and you shall go down.  
And now what we are, if any would know,  
Catholics we are, and so we will go.  
The Service Book here, scattered all,  
Is not divine, but Heretical:  
So is the Bible of false translation,  
To cut it and mangle it, is no damnation.  
The Register also, if so we do serve,  
We use it no otherwise than it doth deserve:  
For why should new Heretics, be therein inroulde,  
Enroll good Catholics long dead of old,  
Out with new Heretics, hence let them go,  
Register Catholics, & Register no more.  
For Catholics only, are worthy record,  
And into Church Register to be restored.    
Finis.   

The Preface of the Answer to the Romish Rhyme and railing Libel.  
HOw now my Masters of the Popish crew?  
What yet more Rhymes, to blaze your arms a new?  
We thought that you had left these trifling toys,  
To be performed of Madmen, Girls and Boys,  
And not that men of sort, or of ripe age,  
Would thus like Players come upon the Stage.  
Members of holy Church, as you would be,  
Should hate such sports as things of base degree.  
But Hogs and Dogs will wallow in the mire,  
Eat their own vomit, to fulfil desire:  
All carrion Crows, and Kites will stoop to ground,  
Yea strike on Dunghills where their prey is found.  
But Eagles, they will mount & soar on high,  
Feed on the best things, pleasing taste and eye:  
You know the meaning, therefore be ashamed,  
In such bad actions to be seen or named.  
Some of your friends and favourites I know,  
Abhor this course & would not have it so.  
When one like you did write of Popish Cross,  
Another on your questions of like dross,  
A Papist cursed: and said now fie for shame,  
These first rude rhymers, are most worthy blame,  
And not the answerers provoked thereto,  
By fools on our side that such things will do.  
Unto low ebb your Pop'ry sure is come,  
When up and down in Metres it must run:  
Will prose no longer serve your turns indeed?  
But that like Fiddlers you must thus proceed?  
Or must you wander now like peddlers poor?  
To sell your Romish wares from door to door?  
What hath our learned men desired you so,  
That like to corner Creepers you must go?  
Are you become S. Nicholas Clerks at last?  
That walks by Owl-light when the day is past?  
If Ballad Mungers trade you must profess:  
Or like to Tinkers seek for work by guess.  
If like to merry Beggars you will sing,  
From house to house, then think upon this thing.  
The law for Vagrants will light on you,  
And so some whipping cheer may well ensue.  
If Romish Church do hatch such Birds as these,  
Who will believe that she our Christ can please  
Some three years since, your questions put in rhyme,  
Were answered all, according to the time.  
Since than we heard of no reply at all,  
Nor ye● of Popish Poets great or small:  
But now of late one stole out of his den,  
And shamefully abused both tongue and pen.  
That is to say at Enborne in Berkshire,  
They dealt as if they would set all on fire,  
The Church door they broke open with strong hand  
Which is plain sacrilege in every land.  
They cut one Book, and did dispraise the rest,  
Scattering the leaves, to show how they detest:  
Our books and us, with all the power they have,  
Our Ministers and all things they deprave.  
We seek to bring them to the faith again,  
Which in Saint Paul's time, did in them remain:  
But they abuse us for our pains therein,  
Accounting all we do that way but sin.  
Wherefore we must lose time no longer so,  
Nor suffer them that ever seeks our woe:  
But even deal roundly both with tongue and pen,  
By force of law and what befits such men.  
And sith Rome is the Seat of Antichrist: 
viz. in their Mass.   
And every day blasphemeth the most highest,  
Sith she no longer is Christ's spouse and wife,  
But Harlot like, in Doctrine and in life.  
Why should a Christian rest or stay on them?  
But only cleave to Christ like Christian men.  
The Protestants they say do hurt them sore,  
The Puritans they think will plague them more:  
If these agree, (as by God's help they shall)  
Then reason tells them Popery soon must fall.  
But leaving these things to Authority,  
Unto the Popish rhymers words come I.  
Which shall have answer as they do deserve:  
And from their own words I mean not to serve.  
Foget I may not yet to tell thee plain,  
What lame legged Metres, here I find amain,  
Which like the Author every where doth halt,  
As Vulcan doth, but I will not find fault.  
Let this suffice for Preface to this Rhyme,  
Which to the wise man's censure I resign.  
FINIS.    

To the Reader.  
Here good Reader, I am driven to leave off for lack of time to finish the rest, before the first execution of Traitors: but you shall have the rest with the second part of this Book, which shall shortly be printed. In the mean time, I pray thee to have patience for this stay, as also for any fault that escaped the Printing: And when my second part of this book comes forth, thou shalt have my answer to this Railing Libel, & the matter of Herefordshire. In the mean time I crave both thy prayers for me, and thy patience towards me, and the Printer, as is above said: for we mean to make amends if God will.  
Thine in the Lord jesus. john Rhodes Minister.