A SONG OR, STORY, FOR THE LASTING REMEMbrance of diverse famous works, which GOD hath done in our time.  
WITH AN ADDITION OF certain other Verses (both Latin and English) to the same purpose.  PSAL. 107.8. 
O that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children of men!  
LONDON, Printed by R. Young for I. Bartlet, at the golden Cup in Cheapside. 1626.   

The Introduction from out of the XXXI. of Deuteronomie, where God chargeth Moses to make his Song.  

BEhold thou shalt with thy forefather's sleep,  
As for this people, [whom thou art to leave  
They will not long my Testimonies keep,  
" Though now they seem to them so fast to cleave]  
" But they will rise up [after thou art gone,  
" To scorn my Word, and trample it upon.]  
" After the gods a whoring will they run  
" Of the strange people which are in the land,  
" Wither they go to take possession,  
[" And them amongst to fix their wand'ring band.]  
" Me will they cast away, (and are so weak)  
" My [holy] Covenant, made with them to break.  
" Then shall my wrath against them kindled be,  
" Even in that day [my fury shall be hot,]  
" Them I'll forsake, that have forsaken me,  
" And hide my face from them that me forgot.  
" And they shall of their foes be eaten up,  
" Tasting of heavy woe and bitter cup.  
" So that themselves shall be enforced to say,  
" In midst of sorrow [Came not all these woes,  
" On us, because our God is gone away,  
" 'Mong us no longer to have his repose?]  
" I will from them in hiding hide my face,  
" That evills-all, and other gods embrace.  
" Now therefore write you, for yourselves, this song,  
" Which thou mayst teach the Isralytish fry,  
" Putting the same into their mouth, [and tongue]  
" That it for me 'gainst them may testify;  
" For I will them into the country lead,  
" By oath unto their fathers promised.  
" [The Country,] which with milk & honey flows,  
" Where, having eat their fill and waxed fat,  
" Unto strange gods they will their heart dispose,  
" And worship them [upon their faces flat;]  
" But me they will contemptuously provoke,  
" Breaking my Covenant, [casting off my yoke.]  
" And it shall be, when many evills-sore  
" Shall them befall, & make them much complain,  
" This song shall witness, [if there were no more,]  
" (In mouth of all their seed still to remain)  
" That I foreknew, what's in their heart or hand  
" Before I bring them to the promised land.  
Who so would see this song of heavenly choice,  
Penned by that holy shepherd, Isrells guide,  
And sweetly uttered with a swanlike voice,  
When here his soul no longer might abide;  
Let him unto that holy fountain go,  
From whence such streams do plentifully flow.  
Nor shall he need to think his time misspent: 
Deut. 32.   
For what is there to Israel committed,  
Hath a more large and general extent,  
And to our present times may well be fitted.  
Now is that wall of separation down,  
Now that is ours, which then was their renown.  
And oh that in their holy name alone,  
And other graces, we did them succeed!  
Oh that their falsehood and rebellion  
Had not in us like bitter root and breed!  
Oh that by their example we might see,  
Such thoughts, such deeds, such sorrows how to flee!  
For us, another Canan is provided,  
Far better; better milk, and better honey.  
We look our spirits should ere long be guided,  
To heaven itself, where without price or money,  
We shall enjoy what here we may but taste,  
A ioyfull-blessed life for aye to last.  
Oh then! what manner once should we be here?  
And how refined should be both life and heart?  
Not like this world, but like our Country dear,  
Where none but holy ones have any part.  
We need not fear these Canaanites to follow:  
Who be all perfect, none unsound or hollow.  
Ye that in Zion are secure, awake;  
Ye that do waver in a Sea of doubt,  
How long wilt be, ere the right way ye-take,  
Halting no more or compassing about?  
Or God or Baal, Christ or Mass adore;  
Choose which you will: serve one, but halt on more.  
Remember who it is that witness bare,  
" Even that Amen the witness true and sure,  
" Who made all creatures to be what they are,  
" I know thy works [they cannot proof endure]  
" Thou art not cold, nor art thou hot enough,  
" I would thou wert keycold, or hot in love.  
" Sith then that Lukewarm is the frame & mould  
[" Which all this while and after all my cost,]  
" Thou hast attained; neither hot nor cold  
[" So that my labour seems to be but lost,]  
" I am resolved, [Consider what I say]  
" Out of my mouth to spew thee quite away.  
Oh heavy doom, how can we choose but tremble!  
" We say we're rich, and full, and nothing need:  
" But God knows all; [he knows how we dissemble]  
" Poor, wretched-caytifes, without sight or weed;  
" Buy then of him, gold, robes, & ointment bright,  
" Rich, clothed, to make us; and of clearer sight.  
Then shall we see the end of all his threats,  
(That he an holy awe might keep us in;)  
And why his naked glittering sword a whets,  
(That we might all repent us of our sin;)  
And why he doth such strange deliu'rance send,  
(That we might praise him, and our lives amend.)  
This very end it was that moved me,  
(Though not so fit, to undertake the task,)  
To frame this song, or story (as you see)  
(Be sure the liquour's good, what ere the cask.)  
For here, as in a glass, you may behold,  
The works that God hath wrought, some new some old  
Yet none so old, but young men may remember  
The farthest works that here I shall recite;  
Have they been hid as under heaps of ember?  
Now would I rake them up into the light.  
Indeed they are not hid, but men are blind,  
And loath to call the works of God to mind.  
For divers worthy ones with faithful pen,  
Have writ the most that I am writing here,  
Calling to praise of God unthankful men  
(Which might their souls unto his grace endear)  
But oh! how few do prise such godly pains,  
Or reap unto themselves such proffered gains?  
Yet will I venture; all are not alike;  
God will have praises (for they be his due,)  
A silly rod the stony rock may strike,  
A silly song forgotten works renew.  
If men be mute, than babes; if babes, an Ass  
Or else the stones, shall bring God's will to pass.  
And if you'll have me tell you all my heart,  
'tis not my hope (yet would I not presage)  
That men will take my plainness in good part.  
But come, ye children, ye of tender age,  
This unto you I writ, and thus in verse,  
That ye might best conceive, learn, and rehearse.  
Come children, hearken and consider well,  
God's Word will teach you best, but works withal  
(Such works as I shall very plainly tell)  
Will teach you how with fear on God to call.  
Thou Lord, which dost the little ones affect,  
Let this poor song thy little ones direct.    

Faults escaped  
Pag. 18. l. 2. read slack, and l. 17. r. Peer. p. 40. l. 9 fiery p. 44. l. 13. On, and l. 15. seize.   

❧ A Song of Thanksgiving for the lasting Remembrance of God's wonderful works, never to be forgotten.  

1588.  
FIrst, I'll begin with Eighty eight,  
That most admired year,  
When't was in king of Spain's conceit  
Ore's all to domineer.  
The Seas were spread with stately sail,  
Their men and their Munition  
Were all prepared, without fail  
To bring us to perdition.  
How many scores of Shipping-tall,  
And of their Galleys long!  
How many Regiments withal  
Of Soldiers stout and strong!  
How many hundred Horse to prance,  
And Mules for carriage meet!  
How many thousand Ordinance  
Were carried in the Fleet!  
How many hundred thousand pound  
Of Powder and of Bullet!  
How many millions were found  
Of victuals for the Gullet!  
Who so would make a just account  
Must reckon with the least,  
For to such number all amount  
As cannot be expressed.  
Besides, great store and company  
Of tearing torturing whips,  
And instruments of cruelty,  
Provided in their Ships;  
As meaning not to be so kind,  
Our blood at once to spill,  
But by our lingering pain, their mind  
And bloody lusts to fill.  
From seven years old, (or if not so,  
From ten and so forth on)  
All had been killed, both high and low,  
Their sword could light upon.  
Virgins had died, when they had first  
The Virgin's honour lost:  
Women unripped, on Spears accursed,  
Had seen their Infants tossed.  
The children, whom they meant to save,  
With brand of Iron-hot,  
Were in their face (like Indian slave,)  
To bear a seared spot.  
Their soul (alas) had been a spoil  
To soule-destroying Pope;  
Their bodies spent in restless toil,  
Without all ease or hope.  
There were but few that should obtain.  
This mercy, which was such  
As if you reckon up the gain,  
You'll say it was not much.  
Yea, they that served the Romish gods  
Had been within the hem  
Of Spanish sword, which knew noods  
(Or small,) 'twixt us and them.  
For death of Catholics (quoth they)  
We need not to be sorry:  
Their souls shall go the Catholic way,  
To Heaven or Purgatory.  
As for their wealth and dignity,  
All this for us doth make;  
For all (how much so ere it be,)  
Shall fall unto our stake.  
Oh blessed fowls! what better course  
The highest heaven to merit,  
Than if such Catholics, perforce,  
Their lands and goods inherit?  
Such Catholics as had the Pope's  
Most solemn blessing passed,  
To all that would their wealth and hopes,  
Into this Navy cast.  
For (you must know) the Pope's Crusade  
Was sent, or gentle Bull,  
To all that would this great Armade,  
every with purses full.  
Or, gave a man a lesser fleece,  
Who so gave what they could,  
Were quit, for thirteen pence a piece,  
of all sins, new and old.  
Thus went the Host to sea with fame,  
Renowned there to brave it;  
The Invincible Navy was the name  
Their holy Father gave it.  
Nor doubted they to make their songs,  
Of triumph before hand,  
As if already Spanish throngs  
Had conquered our Land.  
(Mendoz ' mendaciously begun,  
In France to give it out,  
[England is won, All England won,  
Their forces put to rout.]  
Medina was the Admiral  
Of this new Christened Fleet,  
Who left his wife, friends, goods and all,  
In zeal (but undiscreet.)  
He sought to Christ and Mary both,  
And to all Saints beside;  
Sole Christ to credit very loath,  
In doubtful wind and tide.  
Our little Fleet in july first,  
Their mighty Fleet did view:  
She came but with a softly course,  
Though winds behind her blue.  
Her front much like the Moon was crooked,  
(The horns seven miles asunder)  
Her Masts like stately towers looked,  
The Ocean groaning under.  
And now, behold, they were at hand,  
Daring our English Borders,  
Making full sure to bring our land  
Under their Spanish orders.  
But God above, laughing to scorn  
Their wicked wile, and wealth,  
To his Anointed raised an horn  
Of hope and saving health.  
Prince, Prophets, people, jointly cried  
To CHRIST ALONE for aid;  
Whose power invincible was tried  
With Banner all-displayed.  
That noble Drake drove on apace,  
And made the Spaniard dive;  
And Hawkins followed hard the chase,  
(As Hawk doth Covee drive.)  
With these, well forbisht Forbisher,  
Their Navy did assail:  
All at her back did thunder her  
And swept away her tail.  
Those were the Worthies three, which first,  
(Next to their Admiral)  
Ventured the hostile ranks to burst,  
(Spite of their Don-Recall)  
And many more of great renown  
Did bravely play their part,  
In skill and valour putting down  
The Spanish strength and art.  
But why do I record the men,  
That fought with such as braved us?  
I said, (and so I say again,)  
[It was the Lord that saved us.]  
He armed from heaven his mighty host,  
To batter Babel-towers:  
His Angels (though unseen) oppozed  
Their side, and helped ours.  
" They which to Creatures yield the trust  
" From the Creator taken,  
" Of him and them it is most just  
" They should be quite forsaken.  
The blustering winds, the swelling waves,  
The cracks of flashing fire,  
Each in their turn did check the braves  
Of Spain's enraged Ire.  
Eight of our Ships, of wildfire, pitch,  
Rosen and brimstone full,  
And such like other matter which  
Was most combustible,  
Were set on fire; and (guided well)  
In secret of the night,  
By help of wind, it them befell  
On Spanish Fleet to light.  
The Spaniards saw how near they came,  
(At Anchor as they lay,)  
The Sea all-bright with shining flame  
(As if it had been day.)  
Who fearing lest our Ships (beside  
The hurt of fiery crack)  
Might with some deadly engines ride,  
Unto their utter wrack:  
All lifting up with one consent  
An hideous woeful cry,  
Did fill with bitterest lament  
The Ocean and the Sky.  
Some pull up Anchors, some for hast  
Their massy Cables cut:  
They set up Sails, and all-agast,  
Their hand to Owers put.  
And, smitten with a panic terror,  
Confusedly they fled,  
As whom their own bewitching error,  
To shame and sorrow led.  
They fled with shame, the way they came,  
One from another scattered:  
Their Shipping tall with Cannon ball,  
Was sound beat and battered.  
Their reckoning was, that Parmaes' Duke,  
Should help them with his force;  
But God his courage did rebuke,  
From taking such a course.  
'tis best, thought he, for me and mine,  
To keep us where we are;  
For they (we see) are fain to whine.  
That ventured so fare.  
Our Holland-friends with us kept watch,  
Upon the Coast of Flanders:  
He might have soon met with his match,  
If not with his Commanders.  
Yet at the last he was so stout,  
(When to the Lady of Hall,  
His vows were paid on knees devout)  
His Armed troops to call;  
With whom he did to Dunkirk pass  
(But later than was meet,)  
So that by some he twitted was,  
As false to Spanish Fleet.  
Thus were they left of God and men,  
To wracks of wind and weather.  
Their thoughts were high before; but then,  
They fainted all together.  
They came not forth so thick before,  
But now they went as thin,  
Their numbers were abated sore,  
That numberless had been.  
" As Saul did Amalek, or worse,  
" They vowed us all to handle,  
" As whom their Balaam did curse  
" With Book, and Bell, and Candle.  
" But they themselves combining thus,  
" Were the true Amalek-brood,  
" Of God accursed for cursing us,  
" In their malicious mood.  
" Themselves were made a gazing stock,  
" A byword and reproach,  
" Upon the Israelitish flock,  
" Presuming to encroach.  
Thus might they ban their Idol gods,  
With discontented lours,  
And well perceive the mighty odds,  
Between their faith and ours.  
" For though sometime, the way is not  
" Best, that hath best success;  
" And it may be holy Zion's lot,  
" To suffer great distress:  
" Nor is a Church proved good or ill;  
" By any outward things;  
" But that is known for Sion-hill.  
" That Scripture warrant brings  
" Yet such as Idols do adore,  
" Or Christ an Idol make,  
" Preferring Idols him before,  
" Or parting them a stake;  
" What heavy dooms do them abide,  
" Come from God's wrath above;  
" As what the Saints doth well betide,  
" Confirms them in his love.  
" Thus God in days of elder hue  
" Did take his people's part,  
" When Egypt's King did them pursue,  
" Into the red Seas heart.  
" Their wheels fell off, and Chariots went,  
" Full soft (for all their frowning)  
" And then by flying back they meant,  
" To save themselves from drowning.  
" They said before, We will them follow,  
" And take, and put to foil;  
" They are a prey for us to swallow,  
" And for our sword to spoil.  
" But byand by they changed their song,  
" Oh let us flee apace,  
" God doth the Hebrews fight among,  
" To kill us in this place.  
" For God with sudden winds did blow,  
" Upon the heaped waves,  
" And made them soon to overflow,  
" The proud in all their braves.  
" They sank as led in waters gulf,  
" Horse, Chariots, men, and all.  
" The Sheep escaped, the cruel Wolf  
" Himself did get the fall.  
" Then Moses sang victoriosly,  
" And all his saved train,  
" Led through the Sea most gloriously,  
" To the dry land again.  
" They looked back, and saw their foes  
" Floating some here, some there,  
" Whom late and long they feared, those  
" They ceased now to fear.  
" The women sang with pleasant voice,  
" At Myriams' direction,  
" With dance, and Timbrels merry noise,  
" For this so rare protection.  
What better type of England's bliss,  
Saved from Spanish fury?  
The Sea, that was our safety, is  
A grave our foes to bury.  
Even now, we heard of their approach,  
(Who feared not that heard it?)  
But by and by, to their reproach,  
They fled before they feared it.  
Not above fifteen of our Ships,  
did bear the battle's brunt,  
Which, being light, with nimble skips,  
Did theirs at pleasure hunt.  
Nor was there any shipping lost,  
Of ours, save only one;  
And that our enemies dear cost,  
(Better they they'd leted alone.)  
When many hundreds had been slain  
For one of ours, or less,  
Chased away with broken train,  
They wandered in distress.  
With tempests they were tossed and shaken,  
(All Britain driven about:)  
Some drowned in the deep, some taken,  
Where they could ill get out.  
Some of them cast on Scottish shores,  
(And by the King's release,  
More than seven hundred soldiers  
Were sent away in peace.)  
On Irish shores were others cast,  
(Who fared not so well,)  
Wild Irish, Fowle, foul weathers blast,  
Upon these fiercely fell.  
Their Navy, which with wondrous cost,  
Was full three years preparing,  
In one months' space was (wellnigh) lost,  
Without our cost or caring.  
(I say it was not cost so much  
Or care of ours prevailed,  
But God would have the pride of such  
As fought against him, quailed.)  
Of all their goodly ships remained  
After this dismal war;  
Scarce forty which at all attained,  
To their own Havens-bar.  
And those that with so much ado,  
At last arrived thither,  
With heanie hearts needs must they go  
All rent with war and weather.  
No sooner came this happy news,  
Unto our listening ear,  
But all our sad laments and rues  
Were turned to merry cheer.  
Our VIRGIN-QVEENE with holy dance,  
Unto her Timbrel sang,  
Our land for this deliverance,  
With shouting-Ecchoes rang.  
Her soul had marched (like Deborah)  
Amidst the armed train,  
Her faith had scorned with holy laugh  
The bragging Host of Spain.  
In hottest danger did she rest,  
Upon the Lord she served;  
And him in midst of triumph blest,  
As he had well-deserued.  
Unto the house of God she went,  
In roy allest array,  
With thankful and devout intent  
Her promised vows to pay:  
The Nobles her accompanied,  
Each Citizen in colour,  
(The conquered Banners fully spread,  
To make the triumph fuller.)  
The Preacher blazed with cheerful voice,  
Our glorious preservation;  
The Temple sounded with the noise,  
Of joyful acclamation.  
King Philip's friends did much condole,  
To see his feats defeated,  
True Britain lips seemed with a coal.  
From heavenly Altar heated.  
But, oh alas! the real thankes,  
(Which is our lives amending)  
Was fare away; men of all rank.  
Their wicked lusts defending.  
God waited long for our return,  
Unto a purer strain;  
But we cast off his Word with ,  
And horrible disdain.  
This made our God bethink himself,  
How to correct our sin,  
As father whips his peevish elf  
That hath unruly been.  
(When Pharaohs host was overthrown,  
Yet no due fruit returned,  
The wrath of God against his own,  
Gainsaying people burned.)   

1603.  
ANd first, our Queen Elizabeth  
Ended her life and Reign;  
To show, that all hope is a breath,  
Soon come, soon gone again;  
Unless as children we depend  
On God the surest stay;  
Unless our hearts we fully bend,  
His pleasure to obey.  
Our grief was great for her decease,  
No lesser was our fear,  
But God did soon our soul's release  
And from all fainting rear.  
Our Sun was set, but rose a fresh,  
Our hearts were filled with laughter,  
To see King james the Crown possess  
So quietly, soon after.  
No Spear against him lifted was,  
At home nor yet abroad,  
All as one man with common voice,  
His coming did applaud.  
But lest we should be overjoyed,  
And hope beyond all bounds,  
Just then; our kingdom was annoyed,  
With Plague that all confounds:  
I say, all such, in humane prop,  
As dare to put their trust,  
Not caring all the while to lop,  
Or leave their wicked lust.  
Some three and twenty years ago,  
(Or there about) at ,  
God smote the land withheavy blow  
Of this contagious pest.  
In three months' space to death did pine  
(Witness the London-bill,)  
Thirty four thousand seventy nine,  
Yet had not death his fill.  
Three thousand three hundred eighty five,  
In one week did departed,  
And many thousands more alive,  
Remained sick at heart.  
And in each County, City, Town,  
Almost all England over,  
Men of all sorts were smitten down,  
Nor could themselves recover.  
It should have then repent us,  
Of our enormous life,  
Whereby we forced our Father thus  
To wrath and anger rise.  
Though we would not repent, yet he  
Repent ne'er the less,  
His tender bowels yearned to see  
The depth of our distress.  
His bow unbent, his arrows keen  
Were cast behind the back.  
The flames which long full hot had been,  
Were made ere long to slake.  
We for all this, resolved not  
More purely God to serve,  
Therefore our foes devised a plot,  
Such as our sins deserve.  
A plot (to think on) so abhorred  
As heart doth fear and quake,  
A plot, that when I would record,  
My pen and hand do shake.   

1605.  
Full twenty year ago it was,  
One thousand six hundred five,  
When Papists, zealous for the Mass,  
In England did contrive;  
The King, Queen, Prince, and noble Peers,  
The Prelate, judge, and Knight,  
And Burgesses, with powder fire  
All at a clap to smite.  
At Dunkirk, and at Lambeth both,  
They did of things agree,  
With solemn Sacramental oath,  
Of deepest secrecy.  
When Spanish Navy had no force,  
Nor plots of foreign foes,  
They meant to take a surer course,  
The scap't bird to enclose.  
That is, with Art to undermine  
The house of Parliament,  
(No fit place to be the sign,  
Of such a damned intent.)  
There had the cruel Laws been made,  
Against their Romish Priests,  
There will they dig with cruel spade,  
And meat their mining lists.  
But who would tax (beside themselves,)  
Of Rigour such a law,  
As gave the use of life to Elves  
That had so cursed a jaw?  
A jaw so curstly-wide, as would  
have swallowed at a bit,  
Great England's head and body, should  
The Lord have suffered it.  
After some digging, they descry  
A Cellar to be near,  
Which they resolve to hire or buy,  
Should it be ne'er so dear.  
They laid their powder in this vault,  
Full six and thirty barrels,  
With one unheardof deep assault,  
To end their former quarrels.  
(Note by the way the Romish Whore,  
Hath barrels in her Cellar.  
In March she brewed, or before,  
But I'll be bold to tell her;  
Thy Christmas doth not yet approach  
Why layst thou in so fast?  
Before thy time, thou meanest ●●●●oach,  
Thy brewing will be waist.)  
Billets and Faggots hide this stuff,  
Great stones and iron-crowes,  
(To cause a more massacring-puffe  
Were piled under those.  
Now was Novembers fift at hand,  
When o'er this hellish pit,  
Both head and body of the land  
Were all at once to sit.  
When furious Fauxe with matches three,  
(For spicketts) was provided,  
The rest of this fraternity,  
Were very closely sided.  
Monies they had good store, and horse,  
(Some more than was their own.)  
And thought to gather mighty force,  
By roving up and down.  
From , to Woster-shire,  
From thence to Stafford shire,  
Thinking ere this, all Westminstire  
Was overturned with fire.  
They made the world believe, they went  
About a hunting match,  
But for their spoil and booty, meant  
Our souls and lives to catch.  
When first they'd got, by force of Arms,  
The Lady Elizabeth's Grace,  
Not doubting by their Popish charms;  
Her conscience to deface:  
And having blown away the King,  
And royal issue male,  
They thought, by Crowning her, to bring  
Her will in servile thrall.  
Then had they in her name forth sent  
Good store of Proclamations,  
Such as might fit with the intent  
Of their imaginations.  
Nor would they father by and by  
The plot, (though 'twere their own,)  
But meant the infamy should lie  
Where it was quite unknown.  
If you would know what kind of man,  
They would have thus traduced,  
Forsooth, it was the Puritan,  
(So in their style abused.)  
Indeed they meant the Protestants,  
Should all be under guilt,  
As if the blood of Popish Saints,  
At once they would have spilt.  
A Gull without all wit or sense  
(What will not malice say?)  
" The Wolf can soon find a pretence,  
" Why the poor lamb to slay.  
No, no: it was the jesuit,  
And Priests of Popish faction,  
That brought them to this hideous pit,  
Though they deny the action.  
Our doctrine loyal is, and course,  
Like to our doctrine, loyal;  
They teach, (and put no less in force)  
To crush the Sceptre royal.  
Who so their Antichristian sect  
Will not with favour crown,  
Let him be King, borne or elect,  
They'll seek to pull him down.  
And if their strength be not enough,  
To bring about the matter,  
Then Dagger, Dag, Fig, Powder-stuffe,  
Shall stab, shoot, poison, scatter.  
Thus were their heads and hands at work,  
Our State to overthrew,  
Supposing all the while to lurk,  
Under some fairer show.  
But all this while they looked not  
To God that viewed them well,  
And laid all-ope their subtle plot,  
Forged by the Devil of hell.  
These privy works of wily men,  
So long and close concealed,  
By their own letter, hand, and pen,  
Were suddenly revealed.  
The hole was searched of crafty Cubs,  
And then appeared plain,  
The Wood, Stones, Iron, Gunpowder-tubs,  
And all the powder-traine.  
At this Hell-mouth, with triple match,  
(Dark Lantern in his hand,)  
Stood Fauxe in dead of night, to watch,  
And comers to withstand.  
His watching had but ill event,  
When from our watchful King,  
Those noble Patriots were sent,  
To find the secret thing.  
He was in Boötes and best array,  
('Twas fit it should be so,  
Being to travail such a way,  
As he lest thought to go.)  
He was not vexed so much about,  
His taking, or his shame,  
As for his hap to be without,  
When the King's searchers came;  
Else, he resolved, all void of grace,  
(That might have made him quake,)  
Them, and himself, with house and place,)  
A ruinous heap to make.  
About this time the hunting rout,  
That were in Country mounted,  
From Shire to Shire were hunted out,  
And sturdily afrounted.  
Nor needed greater power rise  
Their mutinies to quail;  
The Sheriff's power did suffice  
To fetch them to the jail.  
They looked that all where ere they post  
should like and help the fact,  
Their reckoning was without the host  
For all abhorred their Act.  
Yea, mark: the house that they were in  
(As in a harbour sure,)  
Might well convince them of their sin,  
And practising impure.  
For as their powder was too dry,  
(wherein they put there trust,)  
They saw it was but vanity,  
To hope in fickle dust;  
Which (touched with a spark of fire,)  
Hurt them by sudden flash,  
That were inflamed with hot desire,  
The highest Court to quash.  
So their own powder did 'em tell,  
To their own very face,  
Their powder-workings were from Hell,  
Most barbarous and base.  
One of them dreamt overnight,  
He saw strange looks and antic;  
Their morrow-faces in the light,  
Proved this no fancy frantic.  
He dreamed, at the same time, and place,  
He saw strange tottering steeple,  
Which did presage the tottering case,  
Of this seduced people.  
" They say our Churches are their own,  
" Our bells, and steeples tall,  
" But, striving for possession,  
" They caught a fearful fall.  
" They builded Castles in the sky,  
" (No marvel if they waver,  
" The bird may build her nest on high,  
(Not high enough to save her.)  
And here it may not be forgot,  
Catesby himself was one,  
(The first contriver of this plot,)  
Their powder flashed upon.  
In stead of whirling into sky  
Our Parliament, their own  
Roof (where they parled,) before their eye,  
Into the sky was blown.  
And a great powder-bag, (entire,)  
Was blown up therewithal:  
Which never taking any fire,  
Came down full in the fall.  
To show, that God doth over sway  
Both fire and powder strong,  
And doth their strength hold or allay,  
As he sees right or wrong.  
Suppose the fire had touched the train  
Under the Parliament,  
God could have made them both refrain  
Their natural extent.  
Themselves were forced upon this sight,  
Heavens-anger to confess,  
And on bend knees (all in a fright)  
Their sorrows to express:  
" As they, that found the Shepherd's rod,  
" Their devilish feats to quell,  
" All-trembling at the hand of God  
" From their presumption fell.  
Thus all their hopes were overthrown,  
And utterly confounded,  
And Popish-hunters in their own  
Most cruel pit were pounded.  
Catesby and Percy, brethren sworn,  
Were caught and pierced together,  
Back joined to back, (and all forlorn,)  
By one shot, reaching thither.  
Two wright's that with their open might,  
Against their King rebelled,  
Of roisting rebels had the right,  
By sword of justice quelled.  
Garnett's to Gallows guarded sure,  
[Nor th' straw miraculous,  
Where limmer drew his face demure,  
Saved him from dying thus.]  
Digby did for their digging pay,  
On Gibbit mounted up,  
Two Winters went the self same way,  
And Keys drank of this Cup.  
Tresham had tread no other track,  
If he had lived so long,  
Grant had his grant, the rebell-packe,  
To end his life among.  
Rookewood, that would not better look,  
To hooks of baite-alluring,  
Was fain like heavy doom to brook,  
(With shame for ever during.)  
Fauxe like a Fox, was hanged high,  
And Bats his strength abated:  
" Those that in treason join, must die  
" The death of traitors hated.  
" They r ' dead, we live, even in their sight:  
" They r ' catcht, we scap't away;  
" What should have been their day, our night,  
" Is now their night, our day.  
" Even as those three renowned ones,  
" In furnace seven times fired,  
" Were safe preserved, (flesh and bones,  
" Skin, hair, and  unseered:)  
" The smoke devouring at a lick  
" All them (and all entire)  
" Which in their malice were so quick,  
" To cast them in the fire:  
" And as when Daniel was thrown,  
" Into the Lion's den,  
" They spared him; but flesh and bone  
" All-tore those wicked men.  
" So when three kingdoms with a blast,  
" From Babel's flaming pit,  
" Were like to come to woeful waist,  
" Before they dreamed of it:  
" The Son of God (that in the mids  
" Of burning bush is dwelling,)  
" Saved us, and kept his tender kids,  
" From claws of Lions yelling.  
" Nay, (as if this unto his Grace,  
" Had seemed too small a thing)  
" He brought our foes into the place,  
" Where they vowed us to bring.  
Alas! if they had brought to pass,  
The things they took in hand,  
For Christ, the Pope; for Gospel Mass  
Had reigned in our land.  
And every where there had been rife,  
Racks, halters, fire, and stake,  
Or privy dungeon deaths, by knife,  
Hunger, and poisoned cake.  
But God was pleased from bitter brunts,  
Of Antichristian thrall,  
To save us, and to just accounts  
Those bloody men to call.  
Never since world began was thought  
Plot more abominable.  
Never deliverance was wrought,  
More strange and admirable.  
Our King was wise by a word to see  
Their secret deep intent,  
Wiser to seal that firm decree  
In Court of Parliament,  
That year by year, most solemn thanks  
Might to our God redound,  
Who did the Popish power and pranks  
So mightily confound.  
Hear, to insert, is not amiss,  
Another later doom,  
Which did befall long after this  
Some Romists in a room,  
Even for this end, that all the land,  
More freshly might remember,  
How God abhorred that plot in hand,  
On fift day of November.  
" For he is privy to the rotten  
" Frame of our thankless minds,  
" And sees how all would be forgotten  
" Without some fresher signs;  
 please you but to reckon by,  
Gregorian Calendar,  
Then will you say as much as I,  
Am here to Register.   

1623.  
IN the one thousand year of grace,  
six hundred twenty three,  
(Upon Novembers fift it was)  
Some Papists did agree,  
To meet upon a Garret-flowre  
within Blackfriars range,  
Near which, the French ambassador  
Lodged, till this heavy change.  
Two or three hundred thither flocked,  
Crowding with eager lust,  
The room was full (the door unlocked)  
Some to the stairs were thrust.  
Who so repair unto the yard,  
Or garden where they went,  
Of this sad doom and vesper-hard  
May see the monument.  
For 'twas at Evensong that they met,  
Upon the Lords own day,  
Which by his ordinance is set,  
To teach us in his way.  
They came to hear Drury a Priest,  
From Babel thither sent,  
Who in his jesuite-parrell dressed,  
Did there his matter vent.  
Before his Sermon, on his knees  
At his chair feet he fell,  
Which was reared up by some degree,  
That they might see him well.  
There did he some short prayer mutter,  
As it were an Aue mary,  
No vocal prayer did he utter,  
(From us, perhaps, to :)  
But presently fell to his Text,  
Which was about the King;  
Who pardoned much to him, that vexed  
His mate for a small thing.  
Out of which text he wringed this,  
As some (that heard him) say;  
'twould go withal such souls amiss,  
As from their fold do stray.  
Because forsooth their Sacraments,  
(As namely Penance doing)  
To cancel, are the Instruments  
What debts to God are owing.  
He Preached by an hourglass,  
(An Emblem very apt,  
To show how near the period was,  
Of life by death entrapped.)  
Before the sand had run its course,  
His breath was to be gone,  
He made some way to his discourse,  
But went no farther on,  
The hand of God with sudden rush,  
upon the Chamber came,  
And did the lesuite all-to crush,  
Ith' ruins of the same.  
His soul before that heavenly King,  
Did answer for this action,  
There learning best, what is the thing,  
That yields him satisfaction.  
This sure I am, unless he did  
Sole Christ his pleader make,  
And Popish merits farewell bid,  
He could not choose but quake.  
With him well nigh an hundred more,  
Men, women, one and other,  
By fall of beams, and upper floor,  
Were crushed in the smother.  
So much o'th' Garret-flower fell,  
As was above the place  
Where father Rediate had his Cell  
And Papists went to Mass.  
But all their massing would not serve  
Their Priest, or them at all;  
" They that from Scripture Canon swerve,  
" Must look at last to fall.  
Alas! what shrieks followed their mirth,  
What cries most pitiful?  
Like theirs, whom once the gaping earth,  
Into her womb did pull:  
Or like the doleful noise of all  
That worshipped Dagons' block;  
On whom the house did rush and fall,  
Whiles they did Samson mock;  
Or like that dismal cry and groan,  
Throughout the Egyptian coasts,  
When, in one night each first borne son,  
Was slain by th' Lord of hosts;  
Or like the Galilean moan,  
When in sedition found,  
The sacrificers saw their own  
Blood spilt upon the ground.  
This sad disafter might enforce  
A stony heart to melt,  
Which they in superstitious course  
Strongly beguiled, felt.  
" Secrets belong unto the Lord,  
" This we may well proclaim,  
" What lies be damned in his word,  
" His works confute the same:  
They went about to blaze abroad,  
As if most cruelly,  
Some of the Protestants by fraud,  
Had wrought their misery.  
By secret drawing out of pin,  
Or sawing half asunder  
Some of the timber, that was in  
The house to prop it under.  
But this's a veil that Satan cast,  
Before their eyes to blind them,  
Thereby from sight of judgement past,  
And due remorse to wind them.  
For plain it was, in strictest view,  
That by the people's press  
And sommeyrs mortazing undue,  
They came to this distress.  
And that God's finger may appear,  
More plainly, no foundation  
Nor wall did fail, but all enteire  
The ceil roof kept his station.  
" Oh then, that those which did escape,  
" With feet out of the snare,  
" Might learn no more to run or gape,  
" After such Romish ware!  
" And that we all might learn to flee,  
" From Babel and her dung,  
" Lest for our filthiness we be,  
Into her sorrows fling.  
But to return whence I digressed,  
(Take the old style or new,)  
Novembers fift must be confessed,  
Worthy all-lasting view.  
A day that justly was assigned  
To the Almighty's glory,  
A day when all should call to mind,  
The famous powder-storie.  
But this not all to God belongs,  
Nor do we praise him best,  
By Sermons, Prayers, or loud Songs,  
Bells, Bonfires, or by feast.  
All these are good, but somewhat elz  
Is of far better note;  
When heart, and life, our souls and selves,  
To him are all devote.  
God looked for it that all estates  
Should mend what was amiss,  
That truth and judgement in our gates,  
Should one another kiss.  
But we, alas! did soon forgit  
The mighty works of God  
Not growing better any whit  
By shaking of the rod;  
Nor by the wrack beyond the sea  
Of Christian brotherhood;  
Nor Banners that our foes displey,  
'Gainst Britain's royal blood;  
Nor by the safe return again,  
Of our then-royall-Prince,  
From his great venture into Spain,  
Nor his deliu'rance since,  
(When he was safe in falling down  
By guard of Angels tended);  
Nor his safe coming to the Crown,  
Rightly on him descended:  
These works of God could not suffice  
To draw us from our sinning,  
But still we kept the hue and size,  
We had at the beginning:  
This stirred up the Lord of Hosts,  
To jealousy and rage,  
And made him smite again our Coasts,  
Not sparing any age.   

1625.  
IN the one thousand year of God,  
Six hundred twenty five,  
Was sent the Pestilential rod,  
Our rocky hearts to rive.  
In the chief City of the Realm,  
It had the chiefest seat:  
There like a sea to overwhelm,  
Pride that was grown so great;  
Or like a fire to purge away,  
The dross of hateful sin;  
Or like a trumpet thence to fray,  
The sleep that souls were in.  
The Queen of Cities wont to sit,  
In Chair of highest state,  
Now sat in dust and lowest pit,  
All sad and desolate:  
The highest Court of Parliament,  
To Oxford did remove.  
The Termers were to Redding sent,  
Their Titles there to prove.  
Nor were the strangers strange alone,  
To the infected City;  
But her best lovers all were gone,  
And left her without pity.  
I mean, the rich did flock away,  
And bad her streets adieu,  
Except the poor (which needs must stay)  
There stayed but a few.  
Nothing was heard but passing-bells,  
And friends their friends lamenting,  
Nothing but heavy dolefull-knells.  
(Death not at all relenting)  
Nothing was seen but heaps of dead,  
To feed the hungry grave;  
Or others lying sick a bed,  
(No way their life to save.)  
Some looked pale, and some with pain,  
Were forced to rave and roar,  
Some did the deadly marks sustain,  
And some the deadly sore:  
In one year's space, or less than so,  
(From time the Plague began)  
To what a number did they grow,  
That death gripped in his span?  
Sixty two thousand at the least,  
Six hundred seventy seven,  
Were made appear by deaths arrest,  
Before the God of heaven.  
Yea, do but from junes second look  
Unto December's last,  
Scarce shall you read in English-booke  
Of like doom ever past.  
Within this three months' space alone,  
As hath been duly counted,  
Fifty three thousand ninety one,  
By Bills report amounted.  
In London and the Liberties,  
(Six more near Parishes add,)  
All the forenamed closed their eyes,  
And made their friends full sad.  
More died in this than former pest,  
By th' heavy hand of God;  
In thirteen weeks (to say the )  
Eleven thousand forty and odd.  
Of all which sums, the greatest part  
By death departed thence,  
Were pierced through with fire dart,  
Of raging Pestilence.  
If within and without one City Walls,  
Were found of men such lack,  
More than six myriades of souls  
Brought to so heavy wrack:  
Oh than what was the wreck and spoil,  
Of all the land beside,  
In Cities and in Country soil,  
Throughout the kingdom wide?  
Trading grew dead, and money scant,  
The rich doubting their state,  
The poor were pinched sore with want,  
All feared the dismal fate.  
Men from their dwellings fled apace  
Where these night arrows fell,  
But picked halberdes in each place  
Were set them to repel.  
The high ways unfrequented were,  
Men feared all they met,  
And many keeping home, were there  
Caught in this spreading net.  
High time it was that when the Lord,  
Was thus to fury bend,  
All of their sins, so much abhorred,  
should speedily repent.  
Our Royal King right humbly fell  
Before the King of Grace,  
In mourning weeds, becoming well,  
This sad and heavy case.  
It pitied him to see his sheep,  
By flocks to fall away,  
It made his very soul to weep,  
To see their quick decay.  
Himself began, and then he made,  
His subjects all to fast,  
Py Proclamation he forbade,  
(So long as plague should last)  
All other works, upon the day  
To fasting set apart,  
That all at once might weekly pray,  
To God with broken heart.  
Thus all at once poured out their groans,  
To God in this restraint;  
Filling both heaven and earth with moans,  
And cries of their complaint.  
And God which ever keeps his word,  
Soon pitied our woes,  
Bidding the Angel sheathe his sword,  
And slake his murdering blows.  
When in one week of sickness won,  
Five thousan'a hundred five,  
Died in the City, than began  
The City to revive.  
(Yet after this in six week's space,  
Of Plague and Fevers sore,  
Their died in the foresaid place,  
full seventeen thousand more.)  
But oh! behold God's mighty power;  
To grave were carried thence,  
In Twelve week, after this no more,  
But One of Pestilence.  
Even when the plague was spread at length,  
Into the City's heart,  
Then did abate the raging strength,  
And poison of his dart.  
" Right so the jewish Church of old,  
" For David's proud presumption,  
" And for their own rebellions bold,  
" fall'n in a quick consumption,  
" Just when the Angel stretched his hand,  
" jerusalem to stroy,  
" It pleased God no more their land,  
" with sickness to annoy.  
Yea mark; when those returned again  
That from the Cite fled,  
And when the Country thick came in  
To market, board, and bed,  
Who would have thought but by and by  
The plague should be renewed?  
Yet did it still most quiet lie,  
As in a corner mewed.  
Never was heard of such a change;  
'twas but few days before,  
The sickness up and down did range,  
Scarce passing by a door.  
The very air itself might then  
Seem to be quite infected;  
Now Churches, streets, shops, houses, men,  
All sure and safe protected.  
The eyes which had not before-seene,  
The City's desolation,  
Can scarce believe that there had been,  
Such deadly visitation.  
Six months are gone about at least,  
Since that great ebb and fall;  
Few all this while died of the pest,  
And some weeks none at all.  
Nor was the sickness driven out  
Alone from London City,  
But in all Countries round about,  
Was showed the like pity.  
For though some sparkles here and there,  
To awe us yet remain,  
Yet little breaks out any where,  
To burn us up again.  
Even in our town (so far remote)  
When this dismal disease;  
One place, and house, and man of note,  
most dangerously did seize:  
When town and Country were afraid,  
It would have further spread,  
This deadly plague with dead was laid,  
As in a resting bed,  
(And there it should have rested still,  
As many weeks it did,  
If men had not their doings-ill  
With false pretences hid.)  
As For this Parish (thankes to God,  
By whom the lot is cast)  
To this day felt this heavy rod,  
Not one from first to last.  
Cry of our sins and grace abused,  
Did well deserve the worst,  
But God to hear that cry refused,  
(Else had we been the first.)  
Now what may be the Lords intent,  
It is not hard to guess,  
Even this; that we might all repent,  
And his free grace confess.   

Confess we all before the Lord,  
His grace and mercy then,  
And show his Acts with one accord,  
Before the sons of men.  
In presence of his holy ones,  
praise him with joy and fear  
Who doth revive our withered bones,  
And light from darkness rear.  
Man, woman, child, both old and yongue,  
Rich, poor, the low and high,  
Laud and extol with hart and tongue,  
The highest Majesty.  
Ye blessed Angels honour him,  
And all the heavenly band,  
Ye birds that fly, and fish that swim,  
And cattles of the land.  
Let every City, Shire, and Town,  
Each Church, and house, and soul,  
With thankful pen write his renown  
In everlasting roll.  
Let all that life's confess his grace,  
That saves their life and fame,  
Let none by wicked life deface,  
The glory of his name.  
And thou my soul remember well,  
The kindness of the Lord,  
Cease not with thankful lips to tell,  
The trueness of his word;  
Who gave thee pardon of thy sin,  
And kept thee from the smart,  
(For all the danger thou wertin)  
Of the infectious dart.   

THou Lord which from the Spanish yoke,  
And from the powder blast,  
And from that former sickness stroke,  
And from this newly passed,  
Hast saved us, and ours, and thine,  
So many as survive,  
Oh do not of thy Grace divine  
Our feeble souls deprive.  
For we alas, are like to fall,  
Into the same excess,  
If to thy works thy grace withal,  
Come not to work redress.  
So are we wedded to the toys,  
Of our own hearts devising,  
That we neglect the heavenly joys,  
From thy pure ways arising.  
(Even when the scourge was on our back,  
How few their life amended?  
Our mending then must needs be slack,  
When once the plague is ended.)  
Nor Navy, nor the powder Plot  
Nor frightful noise of war,  
Nor roaring of the Cannon shot.  
Nor all the plagues that are,  
Shall aught prevail, nor yet our strange  
Deliverance from all,  
Unless thy holy spirit change,  
And draw our hearts withal:  
Then draw us Lord immediately,  
And we shall follow thee,  
And make us such effectually  
As thou wouldst have us be:  
So need we not to fear the Turk,  
Nor Pope, not Spain, nor Hell;  
For thou shalt every evil work,  
Reveal, defeat, and quell.  
No sickness pestilential  
Shall smite our Tabernacle;  
Or if there do, thy mercy shall  
Be our safe receptacle.  
Lord save thy Church, our King and State,  
Lord purge out all our dross,  
And such as do thy Gospel hate  
Infatuate and cross.  
Lord bless the Parlamentall Court,  
(Upper and lower House,)  
And when to Counsel they resort,  
In them remember us.  
From King that sits upon the Throne,  
To beggar in the street:  
Let all their bypast sins bemoan  
Before thy mercy feet;  
That we and our posterity,  
Safe-hid under thy wing,  
May ever of thy verity,  
And saving mercy sing.   
Amen.  
FINIS.   

DEO BIS-VLTORI SAXUM. Ad memoriam Classis Hispanicae, Anno, 1588. Submersae, Subuersae.  

VIdimus (heutrepidicùm vidimus,) aequora Iberâ  
Classe tegi: centum, et senas quater illa vehebat  
Non Vincenda rates. Veteres ingentia nautae  
Obstupuêre ratum nova corpora: Viderat illas,  
Estque suas miratus opes Neptunus, & inse  
Aduenisseomnes ridet Telluris honores.  
Nos verò horruimus toti tot tympana, crebrae  
Clamoremque tubae, strictos super omnia cultros,  
Flagrorumque minas, quae barbarus omnia Iberus  
Gentis in Exitium quaesiverat arma Britannae.  
Nos lacerae viduaeque rati spes credimus. Illa  
Sulphure & igne gravis, ventis (spoliata magistro)  
Traditur, & votis exit crudelibus; Hosti  
Mista, suis pereat flammis, sed perdat et hostem:  
Ventis vecta suis perit haec, sed perdit et hostem,  
Vidimus hîc laeti velis albentia primò,  
Aequora, nunc sanie et nigromaculata cruore.  
Excutitur cursu Classis, pars aequore mersa est,  
Inmedijs pars ardet aquis, pars flumine caeco  
Errat, & ignotis vix tandem allabitur oris.    

Ad memoriam proditionis Puluerariae Anno. 1605. Indicatae, Vindicatae.  

VIdimus (ô laeti, cùm vidimus) eruta caeco  
Roma tui sceleris quanta, quot arma specu!  
Ferrum, saxa, faces, et dolia sulphure foeta,  
(Scilicet his Meretrix vina dat hausta cadis.)  
Haec latuêre diu magni sub fornice Tecti,  
jussa manere manum, Fauxe sceleste, tuam.  
Legibus illa olim penetralia sacra ferendis  
(Proh pudor!) horrendum penè tulêre scelus:  
Rex, Princeps, Proceres, Patres, flos Plebis ut uno  
Ictu corruerent, ipsaque Relligio.  
Admotura sacras aderat manus ultima flammas,  
Prodit, disperdit, vindicat ista Deus.  
Nil Erebum pudeat scelerum: Scelus hoc dabit unum  
Infandosque homines, Eumenidasque pias.  
En Erebo accessit sceleris nova forma, paremque  
Huic Erebum sceleri postulat illa nowm.  
Par sceleri dabitur pretium? Modus unus utrique,  
Nullus erit poenae: nullus eratsceleri.  
Par merito laus danda Deo? Modus unus utrique,  
Nullus erit laudi: nullus erat merito.   

Rite Deo Saxumque datum, nomenque Bis-vltor:  
Vicerat hinc hostes, luseratinde dolos.  
Perditione priùs, nunc proditione petebant:  
Perditaperditio est, prodita proditio.    

To God our twice-revenger.  

WE saw, but oh! how sad were we to see,  
Spain's (prouder) Fleet on the proud Ocean spread?  
An hundred ships there were, and eight times three,  
Which made it deemed and named unconquered.  
The ancient Pilots were amazed to see't,  
When they beheld this new-huge-bodied fleet.  
The Sea with mazed smil saw in her bounds,  
All the Earth's wealth and honour brought by ships,  
But we all trembled at the frequent sounds  
Of Trumpets, Drums: at naked Swords and Whips  
(Sore threatened) wherewith all the Spaniard fell  
Came armed this Britain nation to quell.  
Our hopes are in a lone-torne ship (befitted,  
With fire and Brimstone as her chiefest load)  
She, without guide, is to the winds committed,  
And forth with cruel destiny she road;  
[Them and herself with her own flames to spoil]  
Windes serve; she burned herself, put them to spoil.  
Hear were we cheered to see the Ocean main,  
All white before with sails, now purple grown.  
As suddenly with blood of Spainards' slain:  
Their fleet is scattered, and their ships o'er thrown,  
Some sink, some burne i' th' Sea, and some at last,  
After long wand'ring, on strange shores are cast.   

WE saw, but oh! how glad were we to see,  
O cruel Rome, out of thy darksome den,  
So many weapons of thy villainy  
And mighty engines, plucked by hands of men?  
Stones, Faggots, Crows, Gun-powder-tubs we saw,  
These wines The whore doth from her vessels draw.  
Long were they hid under the secret vault,  
Of that Great house; and there they were to lie,  
Till they were made (O horrible assault!)  
By wicked Faux his hand, aloft to fly.  
Those sacred rooms where laws were wont to breed,  
To sudden wrack and ruin were decreed.  
King, Prince, Peers, Prelates, Commons, Gospel bright,  
All at one blow together were to fall:  
Match was in hand to give the trains their light,  
But God revealed, destroyed, revenged them all.  
Hell needs not blush: for this impiety  
Doth worst of men, fiends, furies justify.  
Hell never knew such wickedness as this,  
Another hell, (like it) there need a'-bin.  
Should plot and pay be like? for both there is  
One measure: none of pay; for, none of sin.  
Should praise be like God's grace? there is but one  
Measure for both: Grace had, praise must have none.   

A Pillar Consecrated.  
THis Pillar bright, and [twise-Reuenger's] name,  
Both to our God of right we are to rear;  
For he hath more than twice deserved the same,  
Here, having quelled our foes; and mocked 'em there.   

They, first destroyers, and then traitors played;  
Destroyer's are destroyed, traitors betrayed.    

Verses made by Theodore Beza, upon the overthrow of the Spanish Navy. 1588.  

STraverat innumeris Hispanus classibus aequor,  
Regnis juncturus Sceptra Britanna suis.  
Tanti huius rogitas quae motus causa? superbos  
Impulit Ambitio, vexit Auaritia.  
Quàm bene te, Ambitio, mersit vanissima, Ventus?  
Et tumidae tumidos vos superâstis aquae?  
Quàm bene Raptores orbis totius Iberos,  
Mersit inexhausti iusta vorago maris?  
Et tu, cui venti, cui totum militat aequor,  
Regina, O mundi totius una decus,  
Sic Regnare Deo perge, Ambitione remotâ,  
Prodiga sic opibus perge iware pios:  
 te Angli longùm, longùm Anglis ipsa fruaris,  
Quàm dilecta bonis, tam metuenda malis.    

Thus Englished (though not according to their worth).  

THe Spaniard with great ships, and numberless.  
O'erspread the sea, that with his kingdom's large  
He might great Britain's royal Crown possess.  
Wouldst know the cause of all this stir and charge?  
'twas this: The proud were with Ambition led,  
And after filthy lucre carried.  
How well wert thou [most vain Ambition]  
Drowned by the wind? and ye O swelling waves,  
Overcame that proud and swelling-Dition.  
World-spoiling Spaniards, midst of all their braves,  
How well and justly in the gulf profound,  
Were, of the Sea unsatiable, drowned?  
And thou, for whom the winds and Ocean main,  
Are pressed to fight, O Queen (the world's renown)  
So still for God, without Ambition, reign,  
So still the godly with rich favours Crown.  
That England thee thou England, long and long  
May 'nioy; the good beloved, bad feared, among.    

Another Song.  

O Night, O day, while days and nights shall last,  
'Bove all the days and nights that ever past,  
To England's God be hallowed,  
With hearts and tongues solemnised,  
With Hymns and songs eternised.  
Black night & direful day, thou shouldst have been,  
A thundering night, a stormy day I ween,  
With hellish tempests darkened,  
With Romish murders bloodyed,  
With English horror dismalled.  
The train was ready laid, the powder dry,  
Faulkes, and the blow, I quake to think how nigh.  
Now all the fiends of hell wide gaped,  
Now all the friends of Rome well hoped,  
Now all England securely slept.  
But Gods allseeing never slumbering eye,  
As Sentinel kept watch and ward on high,  
Their devilish plots he fore-espies,  
Their Popish Miners he descries,  
Gives King and State deliveries.  
Thus Hell and Rome have England twice assayed,  
With force and fraud t'have conquered and betrayed,  
Their Navy first God scattered,  
Their treason next discovered,  
And twice hath us delivered.  
Mongst years let eighty eight be Chronicled,  
Mongst days Novembers fift be Calendred,  
To God let both be hallowed,  
With hearts and tongues solemnised,  
With hymns and songs eternised.  
For all, of all, God praised be,  
With hearts, tongues, lives be honoured he,  
Amen, Amen, Amen say we.   
FINIS.   

A short Song made upon the powder-treason, being the fift of November, Anno. 1605.  

Upon the fift day of November,  
One thousand six hundred five,  
All English people must remember,  
How they were saved alive;  
When cruel Papists had intent  
By blast of Powder strong,  
To blow up all the Parliament;  
The lofty skies among.  
Nor King, nor Prince, nor noble blood,  
Meant they at all to spare;  
Nor any of the burgesse-hood,  
That were assembled there.  
Thus, when they had their will fulfilled,  
In fell and furious rage,  
Then had been all the Godly killed  
Of every sex and age.  
God's holy Word they would have thrust  
Out of our Churches quite,  
Laying his honour in the dust,  
With Diabolikespite.  
Then had the Pope, and all his train,  
And all his baggage stuff,  
Lift up on high their heads again,  
And sat in Pompous ruff.  
O England, praise the name of God.  
That kept thee from this heavy rod.    
FINIS.