The meaning of the Title page.  
BEhold; and mark; and mind, ye British Nation●,  
●his dreadful Vision of my Contemplations.  
Before the Throne of Heaven, I saw, me thought,  
T●●s famous Island into question brought.  
W●th better ears than those my Body bear,  
I b●ard impartial IVSTICE●o ●o declare  
God's Benefits, our thanklessness, and what  
Small heed, his Love, or judgements here begat.  
I viewed eternal MERCY, how she strove  
G●●'s just deserved Vengeance to remove.  
B●t, so increased our Sins, and cried so loud,  
That, at the last, I saw a dismal Cloud  
E●ceeding black, as from the Sea ascending,  
And ●●er all this Isle itself extending:  
Wit● such thick foggy Vapours, that their steames  
S●e●'d, for a while, to darken MERCIES heames▪  
Wi●●in this fearful Cloud, I did behold  
All Plagues and Punishments, that name I could.  
And with a trembling heart, I feared each hour,  
G●d woul● th●t Tempest on this Island pour.  
Yet, better hopes appeared: for, lo, the Rays  
Of MERCY pierced this Cloud, & made such ways  
Quite through those Exhalations, that mine eye  
〈◊〉 Inscription, thereupon espy;  
B●ITAINES REMEMBRANCER: &, somewhat said,  
Th●se w●●ds (me thought) The Storm is, yet, delayed,  
And if ye do not penitence defer,  
This CLOUD is only, a REMEMBRANCER.  
Bu●, if ye still affect impiety,  
Expect, e'er long, what this m●y signify.  
Th●● h●ving he●rd a●d seen, I thought, nor fit  
Nor safe it were, for me to smother it:  
And, th●r●for●, both to others eyes, and ears,  
Have offered, here, what unto mine appears.  
Judge as ye please▪ ye Readers, this, or me:  
Tr●th will be Truth, how e'er it censured be,  
GEO: WITHER▪   

  

Britain's Remembrancer Containing A Narration of the PLAGVE lately passed; A Declaration of the MISCHIEFS present; And a Prediction of JUDGEMENTS to come; (If Repentance prevent not.) It is Dedicated (for the glory of God) to POSTERITY; and, to These Times (if they please) by GEO: WITHER.  JOB 32.8, 9, 10, 18, 21, 22. 
Surely, there is a spirit in man; but the inspiration of the Almighty giveth understanding.  
Great men are not always wise, neither do the aged always understand judgement.  
Therefore, I say, hear me, and I will show also my opinion.  
For, I am full of matter; and the spirit within me compelleth me.  
I will not accept the person of man, neither will I give flattering titles to man.  
For, I may not give flattering titles, lest my Maker take me away suddenly.  
Read all, or censure not:  For▪ He that answereth a matter before he hear it, it is shame and folly to him. PROV. 18.13. 
Imprinted for Great Britain, and are to be sold by JOHN GRISMOND in Ivy-lane. MDCXXVIII.   

TO THE KING'S MOST EXCELLENT MAJESTY.  
Most Royal SIR:  
BEcause I doubted who might first peruse,  
●hese honest Raptures of my slighted Muse;  
Observing it the quality of most,  
To pass rash judgements (taken up) on trust▪  
And, that according to the wits of those  
Who censure fi●st, the common Censure goes:  
Perceiving, too, with what oblique aspect,  
Some glaring Comets, on my Li●es reflect;  
A while I paused, whether trust I might  
My plaine-paceed Measures to their partial sight,  
Who m●y upon them (ere you read them) seize,  
And comment on my Text, as they shall please,  
Or sl●ight, or scoff; such men were known to me;  
And being loath, they first of all should be  
My judges; here, I off●r to your eye  
The prime perusal of this Poesy.  
For, minding well what hopes I have of You;  
What course, my Fortunes urge me to pursue;  
What blurs, good Studies by those Fools have got.  
Who sleight desert, because they kn●w it not;  
What freedom Nature gives to e●'y soul,  
To speak just things, to Kings, without control▪  
How far from noble, and from wise they be,  
Who disallow the Muses should be free;  
How eased we are, when we our minds disclose;  
What profit from our honest boldness flows;  
What Resolutions I have made mine own,  
And what good cause there is to make them known:  
All this well weighing, with some Reasons more  
(Which useful are for none but me to know)  
I did not fear these Poems forth to bring,  
To bide, at first, the censure of a King.  
And lo, on milk white paper wings they fly,  
Read they that lift, when you have laid them by.  
But, SIR▪ I humbly pray you; let not fall  
Your Doom, till you have read▪ and read it all:  
For, he that shall by fragments this peruse,  
Will wrong himself, the Matter, and the Muse.  
Although a tedious Work it may appear,  
You shall not wholly lose your labour here.  
For, though some he●alesse Courtier's censure may  
That on this Book your time we●e cast away,  
I know it may your spirits recreate,  
Without disturbing your affairs of State;  
And with more useful things acquaint your ears,  
Then twenty hundred thousand tales of theirs.  
You also know, that well it fits a King,  
To hear such Messages, as now I bring.  
And, that in doing so, to take some pleasure,  
Great Monarches thought it just to be at leisure:  
Long since, I have elected you to be  
Moecenae, to my Muses, and to me.  
And if my hopes in you shall be ●ere●t me,  
I have no other hopes in this kind left me;  
Nor any purpose, whatsoever come,  
To seek another Patron, in your room.  
Nor seek I now, that I from you may gain,  
What, other times I covet for my pain.  
Nor for because my heart hath any doubt,  
That I shall need a Friend to bear me out  
Against the fury or the fraud of those,  
That openly, or secretly, oppose  
Such Works; For, He that me to this doth call,  
Shall save me harmless, or I mean to fall.  
Not that I slight your favour, speak I this;  
(For dear and precious to my soul it is)  
But rath●r, that the world may know and se●,  
How him I trust that hath inspired me.  
(Though some suppose I may) I do not fear,  
As many would, if in my case they were.  
I do not fear the World deprive me can  
Of such a mind, as may become a Man;  
(Wh●t ever outward misery's be●ide)  
For, God will Means, or Fortitude provide.  
I do not fe●re (unl●sse I merit blame)  
That any one hath power to work my shame:  
Since they who causelessly my Name shall spot,  
Reproach themselves; but, me disparage not.  
And, sure I am, though many seek to spite me,  
That every Dog which barketh cannot bi●e me.  
I oft have looked on Death, without dismay,  
When many thousands he hath swept aw●y  
On ●v'ry side; and f●om him have not stirred  
One foot, when he most terrible appeared.  
I know of Want the utmost discontents;  
The cruelty of Close-imprisonments;  
The bitterness of Slanders and Disgrace,  
In private corne●s, and in public place:  
I have sustained already, whatsoever  
Despite can add, to wrong a good endeavour;  
And, am become so hopeless of procuring  
True Peace, (but by a peaceable enduring)  
That, what remains to suffer shall be borne:  
And, to repine at Fortune, I will scorn.  
I do not fear the frowns of mighty men,  
Nor in Close-prison to be lodged again:  
For, Goods, Life, Freedom, Fame▪ and such as those,  
Are things which I may often gain or lose,  
At others pleasures: and, o'er much to prize  
What Man may ta●e, or give, I much despise.  
I am not fearful, as (I hear) are so●e,  
What of the Times, now present, will become:  
For, God to prosper them emploring still,  
I fearlessly attend upon his will;  
And am assured, by many Precedents,  
Th●t like proce●di●gs will have like events.  
I do not fear those Critics of your Court,  
That may ●y goo● intentions misreport;  
Or s●y it mis●● seemeth me to dare  
With such bol● language to sal●te your ear:  
●or, as I know your Greatness, I have known  
Wh●●●●eedomes on the Mu●es are bestown;  
And, that th●ir Servants' should not whine like those  
Who a●e your daily Orator's in prose.  
I f●●●e not any ●●n that would abuse,  
O●●n her ●a●full sleights affront my Muse,  
Because, perhaps, exceptions may be taken  
Against some passage in the following Book.  
Fo●, she to non● hath purposed abuse,  
And▪ therefore, needs nor shel●er, nor excuse.  
And when she pleaseth, she hath means to fray  
Th●se Buzzards, that w●uld interrupt her way.  
She d●res not only, Ho●by-like, make wing  
At ●or●s and Butterflies▪ but also spring  
Those Fo●les that have been flown at yet by none,  
Even those, whom our best Hawks turn tail upon.  
Not only at Crows, Ravens, Daws, and Kites,  
Rooks, Owls, or Cuckoos, dare she make her flights,  
At wily Magpies, or the lay that vaunts  
In others Plumes; or, greedy Cormorant's;  
Or those, who being of the Kastrell-kinde,  
Unworthily aspire, and fan the wind  
For a●rie Titles; or, the Birds men rate  
Above their value, for their idle prate.  
At Wagtails, busy Titmise, or such like;  
But, with her pounces, them dares also strike  
That furnish Courtly Tables. As, our Gull▪  
A bird much found among the Worshipful.  
Our Dottrells, which are caught by imitation.  
Our Woodcocks▪ shadowing out that foolish Nation,  
Who hide their he●ds, and t●i●k se●●re th●y be,  
When they themselves thei● da●gers ●●e not s●e.  
O●r strutting Peacocks▪ whose harsh voice do●h show,  
That some sh●rpe stormy winds will shortly blow.  
Our Herneshawes, slicing backward filth on those,  
Whose worths they dare not openly oppose.  
Our traitorous Mallards', which are fed and taught,  
To bring in other wilde-fooles, to be caught.  
Those Fowls, that in their overdaring pride,  
Forget th●ir breed, and will be Eglifide.  
Our British Barnacles, that are a dish  
That can be termed neither flesh nor fish.  
Even these, or any Fowl▪ ●he durst surprise,  
If they dare cross her, when to check she flies.  
Or, if that any one shall do us wrong,  
Who for our mounting Falcons is too strong;  
I can unkennel such an eager pack  
Of deepmouthed Hounds, that they afraid shall make  
Our sternest Beasts of prey, and cunningest Vermin,  
Even from the Fox-fur, to the spotted Ermine.  
In plainer terms; if any shall oppose  
My Muse, when in a lawful path she goes,  
She will not much be startled; but, go near  
To tell them what they would ●e loath to hear.  
She's none of those that spew out railing Rhymes,  
Against some public persons of the Times,  
Through spleen or envy; then, for fear, or shame,  
Divulge them to the world without a Name;  
Or hide their heads. Nor can those threats (that fright  
Such Libelers) compel her not to write,  
Unless she please: for, she doth know her Warrants,  
And sends her Messengers on lawful errands.  
She utters Truth; even that, which well she knows  
Becomes her; at this present, to disclose.  
That called she was, to make this Declaration▪  
She stands assured; and of that vocation  
Such testimonies hath, that I despise  
His judgement who the power thereof denies:  
For, yours I doubt not, and if pleased you are,  
For what man's censure living need I care?  
No such like panic fe●re affrigh●eth her,  
As that which doth her enemies deter.  
But, if sh● list, in spite o● all the rage,  
(And all the bitter malice of this age)  
S●e dares reprove, and vex the proudst of them,  
Who her, and her endeavours do contemn;  
And set (who e'er they be) her marks on those  
Who Virtue, in her honest course oppose.  
Yea, them sh●e'll make, whom self-conceit besots,  
Distrust, that we descry their secretest plots,  
And may at pleasure, lay to open view,  
Both what they purpose, and what shall ensue  
On their vain Projects; though when they begun the●,  
They placed many veils, and masks, upon them.  
SIR, no such Toys as those do make me fearful▪  
Nor of their hate or favour am I careful.  
For shelter therefore, this I brought not hither,  
Nor am I hopeful, or desirous either,  
To compass any private profit by it,  
Or, to my person any praise, or quiet.  
For, I can hope for nothing, till I see,  
The World, and my deservings better be.  
And, howsoever I am, now and then,  
As foolish in my hopes as other men;  
Y●t, at this present, (and at every season,  
In which my oft we●ke eyes of Faith and Reason  
Unclosed are) me thinks, thos● things, in which  
The world appears most glorious, and most rich;  
Are no more worthy of my serious hopes,  
Then Ratles, Pot guns, or the Schoolboys Tops.  
If God will give me bre●d but for to day,  
(And, but my soul vouchsafe me for a prey)  
'twixt him and me, there shall be no conditions  
For worldly honours, or for large possessions:  
For, (as long since an Hebrew Prophet said,  
When such like times, as these, had much dismayed  
His fearful Scribe) Is this a time for me  
To seek● preferment, or made rich to be?  
No, no▪ for, if these days continue such  
As now they be, each Groom will have as much  
As hath his Lord; and difference will be small  
Betwixt the richest, and the poorest of all.  
There are enough already, who desire▪  
To richeses, and high places to aspire.  
There be great numbers, who will projects bring you,  
And Books, and Tales; and Songs, it may be, sing you,  
For, their own profit: but, there want of ●hose,  
That would their honours, or their livings lose,  
Or hazard their preferments, to declare  
Those truth's, that worthy of disclosing are.  
Yet, that is all (Dread Sovereign) I have sought,  
In tendering you ●hese Lines that I have brought.  
And, that by my example, others may  
Take heart to speak▪ what they are bound to say.  
I know, the odds is more ●hen ten to three,  
That for this boldness most will censure me  
As mad or foolish: and, my best reward  
Will be this comfort, that I boldly dared  
To speak the needful Truth, at suc● a time,  
In which the bravest virtue seems a crime.  
I do expect this wise-appearing ag●  
Should at the freedom of my Poem rage,  
And, that some witty Scorners should abuse  
With taunting Epithets, my honest Muse;  
As if she were produceed by Chemistry,  
Of Salt and Sulphur, without Mercury.  
But, I am proof against their fl●shy stuff;  
And for their scorn I have scorn enough.  
I look our Politicians should defame  
My Strains▪ by censuring them to be to blame,  
O● over busy. But, my seeming folly  
M●y make some Readers strive to be more holy,  
Then heretofore: yea, some who think they know  
●nough already; shall more prudent grow  
By This. And I am w●llin● to be thought  
A fool, that they more wisdom may be taught.  
Yet, I co●fesse, that lately when I saw  
This course, did hate, and wants upon me draw,  
And that, without a Second, I was fain  
The w●ight of a●l my tr●ubles ●o sustain;  
I half resolute, that I would speak no more  
So plain, against Abuse, as heretofore;  
And (thinking I had ventured well ●or one)  
Did mean to leave ●he World her course to run:  
Nay, from good words (although it was a pain)  
I fully was resolved to refrain.  
But, when I silence kept, my heart became  
As hot within me, as a flery flame.  
Yea, like new wine, in vessels wanting vent,  
My thoughts did swell my breast to be unpent;  
A●d, at the last, I emptied with my quill  
A vein, which did the following Volume fill:  
Supposing by the public Press to send it,  
To them▪ for whose Remembrance I intent it.  
But, they who keep the passage, back did thrust in  
B●fore perusal; and, (be like) distrust it,  
Because my name it carried, to be such  
As might upon their friends too nearly touch.  
For, some of them have said; that were my writing  
As true as that of holy john's inditing,  
They would not licence it: so fearful are  
These guilty Times the voice of Truth to hear.  
When therefore, I had this my Offering brought,  
And laid it at their door; a while I thought  
Myself discharged: but, my Conscience said,  
My work was lost, and still my vow unpaid,  
Till I had practised every likely way,  
To tell the Message which I had to say.  
And, since the common way it might not pass,  
To bring it by your Gate, resolved I was.  
My first determining of such a thing,  
Did many several doubts upon me bring▪  
Oné while I doubted, that those fools who mock  
At piety, would make a laughing stock  
Of this and me: and say (with some disdain)  
That I would make myself a Prophet fain:  
And puffed with self conceit, had penned a Story  
For private ends, and for mine own vain glory.  
Or, that with pride and arrogance deluded,  
I had upon undecent things intruded.  
Another while I doubted some would prate,  
That these my Lines dishono●e● the State,  
And on the Government aspersions laid▪  
As of their warnings oft the jews have said.  
Sometime I feared, all my words would make  
But few or none the better heed to take.  
Because I read, that many a Prophet spoke,  
What, small effect within his life time took,  
Except, in aggravating of abuses,  
And leaving them the more without excuses.  
Sometime again, I feared lest if You  
Referring this my Poem to their view  
Who misconceive it may, (and trusting them  
In censuring, who causelessly condemn  
Men innocent) might, by that evil chance  
Be wronged; and suffer for their ignorance.  
●hus Kings are of●en injured: and, some perish  
In their dislike, whom they are ●ound to cherish.  
I s●w▪ moreover, that my Foes, of late,  
Had so much wronged me in my estate,  
By ne●dlesse charge, and causeless hindering me,  
From those due profits, which my Portion be;  
That to recover them, (and to pursue  
My lawful right) I haven no means but you,  
And your just favour. Which, if I should miss,  
(By giving to your ear distaste in this)  
My adversaries would prevail, I thought,  
And, my disgrace, and ruin would be wrought.  
These carnal doubt●▪ and many other such,  
Against my Reason did prevail so much,  
That I was half afraid to venture on  
In that, which ought with courage to be done.  
But, whilst I staggered, and began to stay,  
Me thought, within me, somewhat thus did say.  
Base Coward; hath God's love so many days,  
To thee appeared; and so many ways?  
Hast thou so often felt, what thou dost know,  
From nothing, but the power of God can fl●w?  
Hath he so plainly told thee, with what wiles,  
The foolish world, herself, and those beg●iles  
That hearken to her? Hath he made thee see  
How little harm, her spite can do to thee?  
Nay, hath he pleased been to bring unto thee,  
Great profits, by those injuries men do thee.  
And, shall the fear but of a paltry scoff,  
From that which he appointeth, beat thee off?  
Hath he so often kept thee from disgrace,  
And fed and clothed thee, m●erely o● his grace,  
That thou shouldft now distrust he will deceive thee,  
And, when he sends thee on his Message, leave thee,  
Without those necessaries, which pertain  
To those who in his Service do remain?  
Hath he no meane● to b●ing thee fit supplies,  
But such as thine own wisdom can devise?  
Hath God destroyed so many of thy hopes,  
And dost thou build them still on carnal props?  
Didst thou so many times, in secret vow  
Affiance in hi● promises? and, now  
Hast thou no surer helps to trust unt●,  
Then Kings and Princes? And, as others do  
(Who have not thy experience) dost thou shrink  
As soon as any outward Stay doth sink▪  
Wouldst thou thy God displease, to keep a friend,  
Perhaps in vain, for s●me poor temporal end?  
Is't now a Season (when the Lands transgressions  
Have shaken all) to settle thy Poss●ssions?  
When all the I own about thee is on fire,  
Wouldst thou go build thy straw-clad Cottage higher?  
Well; take thy course. Yet, know, if thou forbear  
What now thy Conscience bids thee to declare,  
Thy foolish Hope shall fail thee, ne'er the less;  
Thy wrongful suffering shall h●ve no redress;  
Thou shalt have greater wants than pinch thee yet;  
New sorrows, and disgraces, thou shalt get  
In stead of help; and, which is worst of all,  
A guilty Conscience, too, torment thee shall.  
●hen, be advised, and proceed to do  
That lawful Act, thy heart inclines unto;  
And, be thou sure, that God will make thee strong  
Against the violence of every wrong.  
Be stout; and though all persons through the Land,  
Even Prince and People both, should thee withstand,  
Their opposition nothing harm thee shall;  
But, thou shalt bide them like a brazen wall;  
And if thou suffer persecutions flame,  
Thou shalt be but refined in ●he same.  
Such thoughts we●e whispered in me. And though some  
M●y think them vain suggestions, flowing from  
Distempered Fa●cy; I dare boldly say,  
They lie: And, I their motives do obey.  
All doubts, and fears▪ and stops, are broken through,  
And lo (Dread sovereign) I have brought to you  
(In all humility) my s●lfe and these  
My honest and my just REMEMBRANCES:  
To pass, for those, to whom they appertain;  
Or, here for my discharging to remain.  
God is already angry (I'm afraid)  
Because this duty I so long delayed.  
And, stand, or fall, now I have reached thereto,  
I would not, for the world, it were to do.  
Good SIR, reject it not, although it bring  
Appearances of some fantastic thing,  
At first unfolding: for▪ those Mysteries  
Which we most honour, and most highly prize,  
Do seem to be but foolishness to some.  
And, when our sin to any height is come,  
It brings a height of folly, which oft makes  
That course to seem uncomely, that God takes  
For our reproof, (and chiefly) if it carry  
The show of any way not ordinary.  
Which (out of doubt) is requisite▪ when sin  
That's extraordinary breaketh in.  
Believe not those, who reasons will invent,  
To make this Volume seem impertinent:  
For, what is more of moment, than a story  
Which mentioneth to God Almighty's glory,  
His judgements, and his Mercies? and doth show  
Those things that may prevent our overthrow?  
Sure, nothing is more worthy of regard:  
And though a foolish tale be sooner heard,  
Yet, in respect thereof, the glorioust things,  
That stand upon record of earthly Kings,  
Appear to me as vain, as large discourses  
Of childish May-games, and of Hobby-horses.  
Give ear to none, I pray you, who shall seek  
To move, within your Highness, a dislike  
To my unusual boldness, or my phrase:  
For, who doth listen to an honest cause  
In these regardless times, unless it be  
So dr●●t, as if it seemed to say; Come see  
What's here to do. men's wits are fall'n asleep;  
A●d, if I do not some strange rumbling keepe,  
(That is not look● for) they no heed will take,  
Of what I say, how true soe'er I speak.  
I know there be Occasions, Times, and Causes,  
Which do require so●t words, and lowly Phrases:  
And, then, l●ke other men, I ●each my Muse  
To sp●ake such language as my neighbour's use.  
But, there ●●e also Times which will require,  
That we should wi●h our Numbers mingle fire:  
And, than I vent bold words; that You, and They  
Who come to hear them, take occasion may  
To ask or to examine, what's the matter,  
My Verse speaks tartly, when most Writers flatter.  
For, by that means, you may experienceed grow  
In many things which else you should not know.  
My ●ines are loyal, though they bold appear:  
And though at first, they make some ●eaders fear  
I want goo● manners; yet, when they are weighed,  
It will be foun● that I have nothing said,  
In manner, or in matter worthy blame,  
If they alone sh●ll judge me for the same,  
Who know t●u● Virtue's language; and how free  
Fro● gl●zing terms, her Servants use to be.  
Though bold I seem to some that Cowards are,  
Yet, you I hope, sh●ll find, I neither d●re  
Thin●s that or needless be, or desperate;  
O●, that ●oo●e to be wondered at  
Among those fools, who love to hear it said,  
That they to break their necks were not afraid.  
Fo●, as a Seaman, when the Mast he climbs,  
Is safe enough▪ though he in danger seems  
To some beholders: So, although that Path,  
In which I tread, a show of peril● hath  
To those who see not what fast hold I take,  
My standing will be firm, when theirs doth shake.  
And, if I fall, I fall not by this Act,  
But, by their malice, who dislike the Fact.  
Heed none I pray, that hath so little shame,  
To say these times are not so much to blame  
As I have made them seem: ●or, worse they are  
Then I have yet expressed them, by far▪  
And, much I fear●, that ●hey who most defend them,  
Will make them to be worse, before they mend them.  
Nor doubt you, Royal SIR, that from the story  
Of your just reign, or from your future glory,  
It aught shall derogate, to hear it told,  
Such evils, whilst you reigned, were controlled.  
For, we do read, that Kings who pioust were,  
Had wicked Subjects. And, beside, you are  
So late enthroned, that your government  
Could little inso small a time augment  
Their being good or ill: But, you shall gain  
The greater glory, if you can restrain  
(And keep from growing worse) a time, become  
So grossly wicked, and so troublesome.  
If any other way my Verse be wronged,  
By Readers ill advised, or evil tongued,  
Vouchsafe to spare your censure, till you hear  
What ●ust replies to their Objections are.  
Or, if that any to disparage this,  
To yo●, shall of my life report amiss;  
Reject their scandals (for your own dear sake)  
And let them no impression on you make.  
For, evil tongues sometimes will set their stings  
Unjustly, on the sacred name of Kings  
Much more on mine. But, for my own repute,  
So careful am I no● to make this suit,  
But for my Muse's honour. For, in all  
My outward actions, I dare boldly call  
Your strictest Laws to censure me. And what  
I am to God, it may be guessed at,  
But rightly known, to none but him, and me.  
And, though from outward 'scapes I stand not free,  
Yet, let this Message her due merit win:  
For, God's most holy Prophets had their sin.  
As in a Glass, here may you, by reflection,  
Behold (without the hazard ●f infection)  
The horrid Pestilence in her true form,  
Which in your Kingdom did so lately storm;  
And is so soon forgotten, that I err,  
Unless there needeth a REMEMBRANCER.  
Hereby, succeeding Times, in such like terrors,  
May learn to see and to prevent some errors.  
Here, understand you may (without false gloze)  
What heretofore your people did suppose  
Of You: Their hopes before your Coronation,  
And what hat● been since then their expectation.  
Here, you may partly see, what you of them  
May hope: what you should cherish or condemn.  
Here, view you may (before too far they steal)  
The sicknesses of Church and Commonweal:  
What b●ings upon your Person, and ●he State,  
Such ca●e, and so much trouble as of late:  
What mars your Counsels, and what undermines  
Your most approved, and most wise designs:  
What makes your Arms, your Vertu●s, & your Friends  
So little helpful to your pious ends:  
What makes your Fleets return without success;  
What breedeth doubtings and unsettledness  
In weighty matters▪ and whence discord springs  
Among the People, and 'twixt them and Kings.  
And, if it well observed be perchance,  
What seems to most a trifling circumstance,  
Shall of itself inform, or else prepare  
To signify those things that weightiest are:  
For, they who can my Muses reach discern  
Shall find, that what most think doth but concern  
My person only; may to that conduce,  
Which serves to public, and to private use.  
Moreover▪ this Remembrancer doth show,  
To what th● folly of these times will grow;  
And, what in future days will surely fall  
If we our courses long continue shall.  
He, lastly do●h declare the certain way,  
By which, ensuing harms prevent we may;  
Take off the scars, our passed sins have given,  
And, make our present peace with earth and heaven.  
Dear SIR; as you your honour do respect  
For times to come: as you do now affect  
Your present comforts, and those hopes that are  
The pledges of that Crown, you look to wear,  
(When you must leave that golden Crown of thorns,  
Which pains your head, as much as it a●ornes)  
Give heed to these Remembrances: Command them  
To pass, in spite of such as would withstand them.  
Do you reform, according to your powers.  
In every quarter of this I'll of yours,  
Give w●y to Reformation. In the Crimes,  
And many crying sins, of these lewd times,  
Be you no partner, by conniving at  
Their Actors; or, discountenancing that  
Which may disable them to tyrannize;  
Who will to hide old sins, new faults devise.  
And, do not for some few reserve that ear,  
Which should the suit of every Subject hair.  
But, as you have been, yet, (and as I trust  
You shall continue) be in all things just;  
And as upright, as him it may befit,  
Who doth in place of God Almighty sit;  
That you and yours▪ may still in safety stand,  
What plague soever fall upon the Land.  
And, let not my Petition be condemned,  
As over bold; or my advice contemned,  
Because a man despised gives the sa●e;  
Fo●, seldom hitherto, a M●ss●ge came  
From God, on such occasions, ●ut som● one  
In outward sh●w, scarce worthy thinking on,  
Was made the Messenger. All heavenly graces  
Are not entailed on men of highest places:  
Nor is all that which every Prelate says,  
To be believed as Gospels now adays.  
God still (as heretofore) calls vulgar men  
To speak his will to Princes, now and then:  
Yea, to delude the World, or to deride  
Her arrogant vain glory, and her p●iee,  
God checks her oft, by those of whom we see  
She most of all disdains reproved to be:  
Th●t, so her loftiness he may debase,  
And to the lowly minded show his grace.  
It peradventure may be thought I come  
With nothing else but gleaning●, gathered from  
The common Rumours, (which I fain would s●r●w  
Abroad again, to publish what I know)  
But, let me● judge their pleasures: I am free  
From those poor ends; and, so still hope to be.  
In this, I moved not, of ●ine own● intent,  
Nor am I, SIR, by any Mortal sent:  
More strong is my Commission. And, what e'er  
It seems to those who unacquainted are  
With God's Characters, a●d his Privy seal,  
The Times to come shall openly revelle  
What these perceive not; and, it shall be seen,  
That I have warrantably called b●ene.  
Mean time my Conscience knows I have not run  
With rashness into that which I have done;  
But, rather that I maugre mine own will,  
Was roused up, and spurred onward still,  
In this performance; when my Cowardice,  
My Sloth, my Pleasures, or my Avarice,  
Or worldly Po●icie●, their b●its did lay,  
To tempt and draw my heart another way.  
Yea, so untoward was I ●o conform  
My Will, this uncouth Action to perform,  
That, many times I quite gave off to do  
What I ha● vowed, and set hand unto.  
For, had not God by terrors▪ wants, distractions▪  
And crossing all those temporal hopes and actions  
Which I attempted, since I first began  
This task: or, if he had not now and than  
Among those lashes, mixed comfort,  
And apprehensions of diviner things  
Than flesh and blood informeth (as, no doubt,  
This Book will prove to some who read it out)  
I neither should have known what I have told,  
Nor dared in these times to be so bold.  
For, when the World can tempt me for a day,  
To cast such Meditations quite away,  
(And plod, as others do▪ in her affairs,)  
My Courage, and my Comforts, it impairs.  
And, if I happen then, to overlook  
Some passages in this ensuing Book,  
I wonder at their boldness, just as mu●h  
As he, whose heart had never such a touch:  
And, till by reading them, new fire I take,  
My own Expressions, me do fearful make.  
Yet, here are poor and slender things, to that  
Which of these Times, time coming will relate:  
Fo● though my Fortune hath obscured me,  
Y●t in all matters might it fitting be  
For me to speak my knowledge of those things  
Which to my ear and eye, Occasion brings,  
So many sad Relations I could make,  
That every ho●est Re●ders heart would ache;  
And think this Nation fo●lish, (if not mad)  
O●, that all Reason quit● forsook us had.  
Yea, had I means to prove to every man,  
What to my own experience prove I can;  
Or were it meet, in public to declare  
All things which known, and unconsidered are;  
My Muse would make, perhaps even those to grieve,  
(And tremble too) who do nor yet believe,  
Nor care to know how desperately diseased  
This Land is grown. How ever they are pleased  
Who have distempered it; to you I trust  
I● shall not be distasteful, that I must  
Dilate my mind a little, in such wise,  
That you may see how sick your Kingdom lie●.  
For, that alone which fits me to disclose,  
And what's already known to friends and foes  
My Verse discovers. Yea what to conceal  
More hermes, then profiteth your Commonweal,  
Is here in part comm●moriz'd, to show  
That we con●ider not the things we know.  
And, if I shall miscarry for declaring  
These needful Truths, (and, for this honest daring)  
A rush I care not. F●r, I'd rather die  
Alo●e, before th●se days of misery  
That s●eeme to be approaching (and for saying  
What (being beeded) might procure the staying  
Of universal Plagues) then live and perish  
With fools, who do themselves for slaughter nourish.  
I am no Statesm●n, neither (by pretence  
Of having gotten large intelligence)  
Would I insinuate for more esteem  
Than I deserve; or, to deserve may seem.  
But, being set on such a middling height,  
Where I (by God's permission) have the sight  
Of many things (which they shall never see  
Who far above, or far below me be)  
What I observe, I ponder, and compare;  
And, what I think may profit, I declare.  
I therefore hope, what ere the pe●s●n sleme,  
The matter sh●ll procure itself est●eme:  
And, mak● this age to know, there's majesty  
In simplest Truth; and such authority  
As will command regard, though want it shall  
Those glorious garbs which falsehood jets withal.  
I hope to see all Virtue shine in You;  
And that your good example will renew  
Decaying Piety. I likewise hope  
That these Remembrances shall find no stop  
By your appointment, nor by any power  
Which taketh her authority f●om yaur.  
For, when it shall be seen, that you give way  
To publish T●is: your people justly may,  
(And will) affirm, that you are still the same  
They hoped of you: that you also blame  
As much as any, what disordered is;  
And, that you se●ke to mend what's found amiss:  
Yea, they that else will storm and vex to see  
My Lines, thus ●old, w●ll calm and quiet be.  
However; I have said, and, I have done;  
Let what God pleaseth follow thereupon.  
My heart is fixed; and I up have taken  
Those Resolutions, th●t will stand unshaken,  
(I t●ust) though Earth should sink, and all the Sphere:  
Come thundering down in flames about my ears.  
Which Hopes of mine▪ some will, perchance deride,  
And fo●le themselves, to see my patience tried  
By what they can inflict, (unless you stay  
That rage, to which my Verse provoke them may)  
But, see your Honour be not wronged by it,  
And, l●t them do their w●rs●; for I defy it:  
Because I know, what ere the spite of man▪  
Against this Poem, speak or practise can▪  
It shall continue, when all those be rotten,  
Or live with infamy, or dyeforgotten,  
Who shall oppose it. I moreover know,  
That, dead, or living, I esteemed shall grow,  
For what t●●y blame. That Genius tells me this,  
Which never yet persuaded me amiss,  
And, I believe him: Else let me become  
Of all as scorned, as I am now of some.  
Yea, if they ever drive me to repent,  
That honest min●e with which I underwent  
This Labour; Let the wishes of my Foes  
Befall me, and let every one of those  
Who either hear me named in future ages▪  
Or shall perceive, I failed in my Presages,  
Be bold to say, my heart was never ri●ht,  
But, that I lived and died an HYPOCRITE  
Your Majesty's most loyal Subject, and most humble Servant, GEO: WITHER▪   

A Premonition.  
STay Reader, and take a few lines by way of prevention: For, though in mere temporal endeavour, I observe with Solomon, that, The race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, nor bread to the w●se, nor riches to men of understanding nor favour to men of skill, but that time and chance cometh to all; yet, I know every man is to prosecute likely means of convenient things. And, though Ignorance waxeth so arrogant, and Art so envious, that after much pains in some good performance, we must otherwhile take as much more to prevent misconstructions (and think ourselves well rewarded, if at last we may escape▪ without a mischief's) ye●, since it is the common lot, I will ●eare i● patiently▪ and seek to avoid as many inconveniences as I may.  
It is impossible to prevent all: for▪ some out of mere malice practise the disparagement of every labour whereby the glory of God may seem to be advanced; and if on the Work they cannot fasten their Detractious, than they will, to disable it, vilify the person of the Author. This was the conspiracy of the jews against jeremy, (Come, (said they) let us devise devices against him, let us smi●e him with the tongue, and let us not give beed to any of his words.) And this way also in so violent a manner have I been persecuted, as if my Disgrace might advance the public Honour.  
Against my MOTTO, though (as I forespoke) it redounded to their own shame, so raged my Adversaries, that not content with my personal troubles, they sought the disparagement of that Book, by a libellous answer thereunto: wherein, I was used as most writers of Controversies, in these days, use each other: To wit, they objected what I never thought, and then made replies to their own devices▪ which being finished, was imprinted with an inscription fal●ly cha●ging me, with labouring to stay the publication thereof; and then also, it was very gloriously fixed on the gate of my lodging, as if it had been some bill of Triumph. Bu●, it proved a ridiculous Pamphlet, and became more loss and disgrace unto the divulgers thereof, than I desired; and, non● thought th● worse of me o● that Book for those Invectives, save they only, whose commendations would be more dishonour to me, than their dispraise.  
Hereby, therefore, I seek not so much 〈◊〉 p●even● the like injury to my person, as to remove those occasions of prejudice, which scandalous censures may raise in some other, who might else, perhaps, re●eive the more profit from this REMEMBRANCER: And what I will say to that purpose shall be very brief.  
First (in regard my aim in this Poem, is chiefly God's glory, and the welfare of this Church and Commonwealth) I desire I may no●●e traduced, though I have here and there inserted some lighter expressions, then seem at first view to become the gravity of the Subject: For, (considering the common vanity, and how tedious matters of most consequence are unto some ears) it is necessary, and by good authority warrantable, to make use of all indifferent means, to work on humane infirmities, for our hearers profit.  
Secondly, I request that wherein I differ from the vulgar Tene●s, I may not rashly be reproved; but that my affirm●tions, may with all their due circumstances, be first weighed: For, otherwhile the●e is just occasion to hyperbolise. And, as he that rectifying a crooked staff, bends it somewhat on the ●t●er side: so, in many cases, we are constrained to urge that which appears over much on the right hand, before those who are too ●ar on the left hand, will believe they are aught awry. Thus did the Fathers of the Church when they had to do with some Her●tikes, and have been thereby misunderstood▪ and mis-censured by heedless Readers. In the same manner have my writings been abused; yea, my hearers have been so hasty, that had I not explained myself to be of their opinion, within some few lines after, doubtless they would have robbed me of my own meaning. But, they who well heed what I affirm or deny, will find (I hope) that I keep a middling path betwixt extremes.  
If any conceive (as I hear they do) th●● I did unwisely to remain in London during the great Mortality here memorised, ●et them pe●use the third Canto, and they shall there see▪ what Motives and what warran● I had for so doing. I think it will satisfy them; for, so well it satisfied me, that (whatsoever others may imagine) I know it had been better I should háve perished in that sickness, then to have had a heart disobedient to such motions.  
If any ●axe me for inse●●ing so many Lines concerning my own thoughts and resolution's; let them consider what use some Readers may make by application to themselves; by having my inward conflicts for their examples; and by seeing also what necessity's ●here were for me to strengthen myself both against the wo●ld, and against my ●wne frailties, (in my hazardous undertaking) by expostulating wi●h my heart, what my conscience could say, for itself▪ Let them, I say, consider what in this kind is considerable, and then, perhaps, those personal relations will not seem impertinent.  
If question be made, by what authority, I took on me to write this Land's REMEMBRANCER: in the fif●h Canto, and in some other places of this Book, they sh●ll find mention of my Commission; And if they be not thereby persuaded, that I have a good Authority, it will be through their ignorance▪ and no ●aul● of mine. Those Mercies and judgements of God's which I memorise, are such as this Kingdom is generally witness of. The Sins I reprove, are none but those which were, and are notoriously committed: I have reprehended them ìn such manner, as God's holy Word, and the universal law of Nature hath warranted in all ages. I have foretold what shall come upon such Transgressor's, according to the predictions of the Prophets. I have assured, upon Repentance, those blessings which God himself hath promised. I have confirmed all my own Resolution● by the divine Covenant, and that working of the bl●ssed Spirit, which I have a feeling of in my own heart: And, if in these things I be deceived, I know not who hath power to make me confident of any thing in this life.  
If any dislike my personating God (as in the first Canto) let them search, and they shall find it usual not only in Christian Poems, but also in the holy Text. And if we introduce him according to his A●tr●butes, and speaking according to what in his written word he hath already spoken, it may be justified. If my personating Mercy and justice, or my creating of other Objects representative, or my Method, or my Phrase, or any such like, seem offensive; my Muse ha●h apologized for herself, as much as I think needful, in many places of this Book as occasion is offered, especially in the second, fi●th, and eighth Cantos.  
●f the Poem seem too l●rge, or the particulars to be over tediously insisted upon; consider, in how many impertinent and trifling discourses and actio●s the best of us do consume f●rre more hours' th● the perusal of this requires minutes, and yet think it no tediousness: and let them call to mind how m●ny huge Volumes this age imprints and reads, which are foolish, if not wicked: let them remember also, tha● our whole life is l●ttle enough to be employed in the meditation of what is here recorded. Let them be persuaded likewise, that I have not written t●is for those who have no need thereof, or to show my own wit or compendiousness, but to wa●ne and instruct the ignorant; to whom I should mor● often speak in vain, i● I did not otherwhile by r●pe●itions and circumlocutions, stir●e up their affections, and beat into their understandings, the knowledge and feeling of those things which I deliver. Yea, let them know, that I know those expressions will be both pleasing and profitable to some, which▪ they imagine to be needless, and superabundant; and that I h●d rather twenty nice Critics should censure me for a word here and there superfluous▪ than that one of those other should want that which might explain my meanings to their capacities, and so make frustrate all my labour to those who have most need of it, and for whom it was chiefly intended.  
If you find any thing which may seem spoken ou● of due Time; blame not me altogether; for, it is above two years since I laboured to ge● this Book printed; and it hath cost me more money, more pains, and much more time to publish it, then to compose it: For, I was fain to imprint every sheet thereof with my own hand, because I could not get allowance to do it publicly: so unwilling are we of Remembrancers in this kind.  
If you find aught else that may be doubted of, or for which I may seem reprovable, or needing advice; let me christianly and charitably receive intelligence thereof: And if I make not a reasonable defence, I will humbly acknowledge and give the best satisfaction for my errors, that I am able. So, I commit you to the blessing of God, and ●o the pershall of this REMEMBRANCER, if you please.  
Geo: Wither.   

BRITTAN'S REMEMBRANCER.  

Canto the first.  

Our Author first with GOD begins;  
Describes his anger for our sinnes;  
Of all his judgements mus●er makes;  
Declar●s how Mercy undertakes  
The pleading of this kingdom's Ca●se,  
To bring G●d's wrath unto apawse;  
And (for the common ●eader) suits  
High things, with lowly Attrioutes.  
Then, steps into a praiseful strain  
Of CHARLES his new-beginning Reign;  
Empl●res that well-suc●e●d be 〈◊〉,  
And, for his weal 〈◊〉 ●ercy pr●y.  
He Iusti●e al●o, in●roduces,  
Complaining on our gross abuses,  
Who proveth so, our sinful Nation  
To merit utter Desolation,  
That all Gods Plagues had ●s enclosed,  
If Mercy had not●nterposed.  
But, after pleading of the case;  
With justice, Mercy do●h embrace,  
Who (that our sins may punished be)  
To send the Pestilence agree;  
Their other: Plagues a while suspending,  
To prove how that will work amending.   
ONe Storm is past, & though some clouds appear,  
A peaceful air becalms our Hemisphere.  
That frighting Angel whose devouring blade,  
Among the People such ahavock made,  
Is now departed, and hath taken from hence  
His poisoned Arrows of the Pestilence.  
God smooths his b●ow; and lo, we no● obtain  
The cheerful brightness of hi●●ace again.  
Oh, boundless Mercy! what a change is this▪  
And what a joy unto my heart 〈◊〉 is!  
Run quickly Mus●▪ to carry thy Oblation;  
And, ('twixt that Angel, and the Congregation)  
Some swee● perfume to our Preserver burn,  
Before that bloody Messenger return.  
● Let all affairs keep of●, and give thee way;  
For, though my fairest outward Fortunes lay  
This hour at spoil, I would not be advised▪  
To speak for them, till I had sacrificed;  
Nor will I, to the world, one line allow,  
Till I have made performance of my Vo●.  
Most awful Power, by whom hath form ●in  
The Globe of Heaven and Earth, and all ●herein;  
Thou Alpha, and Omega of my Songs,  
To whom all glory, and all fame belongs;  
To thee, thrice holy and Almighty King,  
Of judgement, ●nd of Mercy, now I sing.  
Thou hast unclosed my lips, and I will raise  
My thankful v●ice in setting out thy praise:  
Thou hast preserved thy Children in the flame,  
And we ascribe the glory to thy Name:  
Thou saved hast thy people from ●heir crimes;  
And, here, I publish unto ●uture Times,  
What I have s●ene. Oh! le● my Poem be  
A sanctified Sacrifice to t●ee.  
Acce●t this poor Oblation I prefer▪  
These drams of Incense, and these drops of M●r●h,  
(Which fired in Afflictions Flame, perfume  
Thy sacred Altars) graciously assu●e▪  
And give my Lines a date to last as long  
As there are speakers of our English tongue▪  
That Children, yet unborn, may read the Story  
Which now I sing, to thy perpetual glory.  
And, hark ye People: hearken you, I pray,  
That were preserved with me to see this day;  
And listen you that shall be brought upon  
This Stage of action, when our Scene is done:  
Come hearken all; and let no soul refrain  
To hear; nor let it hear my words in vain.  
For, from the slaughterhouse of Deat●, and ●ro●  
The habitations of the Dead I come.  
I am escaped from the greedy jaws  
Of Hell, and from the furious Lion's paws;  
With sorrows I have lodged; and I have  
Experience in the horrors of the Grave;  
In those discomfor●s which, by day, assail;  
And those black terrors which, by night, prevail:  
Despair, with her grim Furies, I have seen;  
Spectator of God's justice I have been;  
And, passing through God's judgements, had a sight  
Of those his Mercies which are infinite:  
And here, I tell the world what I observed▪  
For, to this purpose is my soul preserved.  
That fatal Year, in which the forward spring  
Be●ame an Autumn to our peaceful King;  
When james his Crown and Sceptre did forgo,  
That Charles (of whom this Kingdom hopeth so)  
Might show, when he did wear her Diadem,  
How worthily we placed our hopes on him▪  
Yea, when within the compass of one hou●e,  
Two King both had, and had not, equal power▪  
Even then, by Thames fair Banks▪ I did reside,  
Where her swe●t waters washeth every Tide  
The spacious verge of that well peopled Town,  
Which with most princely Palaces doth crown  
Her goodly stream, and at her Ports and Keys,  
Take in the wealth of Kingdoms and of Seas.  
Our sovereign City, than I did espy  
Upon the couch of soft security;  
And, how with Peace and Plenty being fed,  
She toyed like a wanton, on her bed.  
I saw her dressed in all that rich attire,  
Which doth inflame her Lovers with desire;  
And how her idle Children, every day,  
Sat down to eat, and drink, and rose to play.  
For, she was grown insensible of cares;  
She had almost forgotten, sighs, and tears;  
And all this Island in her cup of Pleasure,  
With her had quaffed (so much out of measure)  
Till they gr●w drunk together through excess,  
And wild and giddy in their drunkenness▪  
They h●d almost forgotten him, from whom  
Their ease and their prosperity d●d come.  
They spent their hours in laughter and in song,  
And grew regardless of the poor man's wrong.  
They always clothed went in soft array;  
They fed themselves with dainties, day by day;  
And, that no outward meane● of pleasure might  
Be wanting to accomplish their delight,  
Those jollities, wherein they did appear,  
Were furthered by the season of the year.  
The winds then breathed on them wholesome air  
T●e G●oves, th●ir su●●er clothings did repair;  
The fruitful F●eld● wit● f●esh gr●ene gowns were clad,  
Which Flor● curiously embroidered had:  
The pleasant G●rdens their choice plaints displayed,  
〈◊〉 Orchard with gay blossoms wore arrayed;  
The winged Choristers did sweetly sing,  
And with choice Music welcome in the Spring:  
Their streets with matchless bravery did shine;  
Their Parlours many beauties did enshrine▪  
Their costly Bowers with rarities were hung,  
And always filled with a merry throng▪  
Of nought but sports & triumphs were their dreams  
Wealth, health & honour, were their studied themes  
No noisome Plagues, within their Gates were found,  
Of Groans, their dwellings did but rarely sound▪  
Nor was there ●●y storm or danger feared:  
For, in this Hemisphere so bright appeared  
New CHARLES his wain, that sunlike he did chase  
All fogs of discontentment from each place,  
And, all those clouds of grief, expelled far,  
Which rose at settin● of our JACOB Star.  
But, oh how ●●●stlesse are those lying shows  
Of happiness, on which most men repose  
Their greatest confidence? And from our fight  
How swiftly did these pleasures take their flight▪  
For, whether he, who from his heavenly sphere  
Beholde●h all our thought and actions here,  
Did with a searching ey●, examine more  
Our cours●● at that present then before:  
Or, whether he our carelessness had cyde,  
Or our hypocrisy, or else our pride,  
O● our impiety; or wh●th●r he  
Did in this Island, or this Kingdom see  
Our old Idolatries come creeping in;  
Or, whether he some new devised sin  
Descried to sprout among us here; yea, whether  
It were some one of these, or all together,  
Or what it was, I know not: But it proved.  
A crying s●●ne; and so extremely moved▪  
God's gentleness that angry he became;  
His brows were bended, and his eyes did flame.  
Me thought ● saw it so: and (though I were  
Afraid within his presence to appear)  
My Soul was raised above her common station;  
Where what en●ues I viewed be Contemplation.  
There is ● spacious Round which bravely rears  
Her Arch above the top of all the Spheres,  
Until her bright Circumference doth rise  
Above the r●ach of Man's, or Angels eyes;  
Conveying through the Bodies crystalline  
Those Rays which on our lower Globe do shine,  
And, all the great and lesser Orbs, do lie  
Within the compass of that Canopy.  
In this large Room of State is fixed a Throne,  
From whence the wise Creator looks upon  
His workmanship; and thence doth hear and see,  
All sounds, all places, and all things that be.  
Here sat the King of Gods; and from about  
His eyelids, so much terror sparkled out,  
That every circle of the heavens it shook,  
And all the World did tremble at his look;  
The prospect of the Sky, ●hat erst was clear,  
Did with a lowling countenance appear:  
The troubled Air, before his presence ●led;  
T●e Earth into her bosom shrunk her head;  
The Dee●s did roar; the Heights did stand amazed;  
The Moon an● Stars upon each other gazed;  
T●e Sun did stand unmoved in his path;  
The Host of Heaven w●s frighted at his wrath;  
And with a voice which made all Creatures quake,  
To this effect, the great ETERNAL spoke.  
Are we a GOD? and is there power in us  
Ta s●artle all our whole Creation thus?  
And yet, are we despised, as if these Powers  
Were either lesser grown, or none of ours?  
Are we, that with our ●entles● breath can blow  
All things to nothing, still abused so?  
Hath our long suffering hardened so our Foes,  
That now our Godhead into question growe●?  
N●y (which is worse) have we compassion shown,  
Till we are quite neglected of our own?  
Is this the Land whom we have loved so long,  
And, in our love, elected from among  
The Heathen Isles (and at the first was burled  
Into the utmost corner of the world)  
That we might raise the glory of her name,  
To equal King domes of the greatest fame?  
Is this that Island, which our love did place  
(Within our bosom) in the safe embrace  
Of great Oceanus? and, garden like  
Did whar●e about (within her watery Dike)  
With mighty Rocks, and Cliffs, whose tops were higher,  
Then any foaming Billow da●es aspire?  
Is this the Kingdom, which our band h●th made  
The School and Shop, of every Art, and Trad●?  
The Cornucopia of all needful plenties?  
The Storehouse, and the Closet of our dainties?  
Our jewel house, and Palace royal, where  
The fairest of our Loves maintained are?  
Is this the Cou●t●y which our bounty served  
With store of bread, when many Lands were starved?  
And whom we have preserved from the spoils  
Of Foes abroad, and from domestic broils?  
Are theirs the Cities, which do wear the Flag  
Of Peace, while Rochel, Heidleb●rg, and Prague,  
And ●ll the Christian world engaged are,  
In some offensive, or defensive war?  
Are their's the Cities, to whose fleets were shown,  
The pathless ways through many seas unknown?  
Whose wealthy Merchants have increased their trade  
From every Port and Creek, that we have made?  
Whose vessel● have, by our protection, gone  
Past both the Tropics, and through every Zone,  
And made their petty Villages, become  
Acquainted with more worlds, then ancient Rome?  
Is this that people unto whom we gave,  
More lovely Bodies, than most Nations have?  
And in whose minds (of our especial grace)  
We did the best ●pproved temper place?  
Is this that People, whom we did restore  
To humane shape, when as the sca●let-whore  
Had with her charmed Cup of poisoned wine,  
Transformed them into Asses, A●es and swine?  
Did we in persecution hear their cries?  
T●ke off, the s●●les of blindness from their eyes▪  
Wink at their follies, when they most offended?  
Forbear the punishments ●hat were intende●?  
From divers Plagues inflicted them release?  
Make Europe stand and wonder at their peace?  
Yea▪ save them f●om the malice of their Foe,  
When all were like to perish at a blow?  
And, grace and favour undeserved show,  
Wh●n they their own dest●●ction did purs●e?  
H●ve we, these threesc●re years and upwards b●est  
Th●ir Kingdomes●rom ●rom those troubles that infested  
Most other States? And (when their souls had been  
Nigh famished else) did we provide a Queen,  
(A maiden Queen; with virtues masculine)  
To nurse them up in holy Discipline?  
Did we provide, when she her cou●se had ●un,  
A King who favoured, what her hand begun?  
And now another, who doth both restore  
Those hopes they lost in him, and promise more?  
Did we but here, of late, when they had lost  
Their Prince (that now is King) when they almos●  
Despaired of his return, for evermore,  
When he remained on th' Iberian shore?  
Did we accept their vows? observe their tears?  
Compassionate their jealousies and fears?  
And send their Darling home, when few did know  
Whereon to build a hope it should be so?  
Yea, when throughout the world no other power,  
Could such a work have compassed but our?  
H●ve we endured their frowardness so long?  
Forgiven and forgotten so much wrong?  
Sought after them, when they ●ad us forsaken?  
So of●, their sergeant Repentance taken?  
So many times apparent made unto them,  
Wha● mischiefs their own ●oolish projects do them?  
Yea, did we freely▪ sundry blessings deign  
Unasked, which other Lands could not obtain  
By labours, vows, and prayers? And have they thus,  
For all those benefits requited us?  
Is that their vowed thankfulness? Are these  
The fruits of all their zealous promises?  
Is this their Piety? Go, draw together  
Thy Forces, Vengeance: quickly march them th●●her,  
With all our Armies; and consume them so,  
That we ma● never more displeased grow  
At their unkindness; or be cheated by  
The feigned weep of Hypocrisy.  
No sooner had he spoken, but, behold,  
An Host (which he doth always keep enrolled,  
To execute his wrath) did strait appear▪  
And in his awful presence mustered were.  
So many Troops, did ●ound about him throng,  
That, all the wo●ld with Plagues, was overhung:  
For not a judgement is there, which hath name,  
But, thither to attend his Will it came.  
Stern visaged WAR (whose very look doth strike)  
Came driving on his Chariot, jehu like;  
Armed and beset with halberts, bills, and glaves,  
Bows, arrows, pikes pole axes, darting staves,  
Guns, balls of fire, and every thing that furthers  
The work of Desolation, Wounds, and Murders.  
His prime companions, The●t and Rapine were,  
With all those Vices wh●ch most cruel are.  
And at their heels pursued all those Bands  
Of raging mischiefs, that afflict the La●ds  
On which he falls. This is that roaring Fiend  
Who Laws, and Leagues, doth into pieces rend.  
This is that bloody Tyrant, who o'erturns  
The goodl'est Monument●, and spoils and b●rnes  
The fairest Dwellings. This, is he that raze●  
Renowned Cities, and the strongest places.  
This is that sacrilegious Thief, who spares  
Nor Hospital nor Temple▪ neither hears  
The ●uits or cries of aged or of young;  
Nor is regardful of men we●ke or strong.  
The Suckling from his Mothers' breast be snatcheth  
And brains it in her sight: The Wife he c●tcheth  
Even from her Husband's bed▪ and Virgins from  
Their Lover's arms, his Strumpets to become.  
A sertile Soil he makes a Wilderness,  
And Wolves, and Bears, and Foxes, to possess  
Those places, wherein Arts did once abound;  
And where have dwelled Nations most renown'd▪  
However, he's an instrument of God's;  
And usually, the l●st of all those rod●  
Which on a thankless Kingdom he do●h lay,  
Before he finally remove away  
The meanus of Grace. Next him, came sneaking in  
Lean Famine, with ●are bones, and pa●ched skin;  
With deep sunk eyes, with talons overgrown;  
With hungry teeth that would have cracked a s●one;  
And, close behind her, and at ei●her hand,  
Such Troops did wait, as are at her command.  
The crawling Caterpillars, wa●●full Flye●,  
The skipping Locust (that in winter dies)  
Floods, Frosts, & Mildews, Blast, Winds, & Storme●,  
Drough, ravenous Fowls, & Vermin, Weeds, & Worme●▪  
Sloth, Evil busdandry, and such as those,  
Which make a scarceness where most plenty grows.  
This is that hungry Housewife, who first found  
The searching out for meat f●om under ground;  
To dig up Roots; to relish, well, the taft  
Of stin●ing Garlic, and of bitter Mast.  
She taught poor people ●ow to fill their maws,  
With Bramble-berries, Hedge-picks, Hips, & Hawes▪  
'twas she who finding on the sandy shore  
A ●eape of Oysters (all bedaubed o'er)  
First sought within those dirty shells for meat,  
Else we had never dared of them to eat;  
Nor thought, nor hoped, that so foul a dish  
Could bring to table such a dainty fish.  
Twa● she that learned the Spaniards how to dre●●e  
Their Frogs; the Frenchman how to cook a me●se  
Of ●pu●●y Mushrooms; Germane how to make  
A dinner or a ●upper on a Snake;  
Italians on the slimy Snail to feed;  
Our Irishmen to live upon a weed  
That grows in Marshes. And I dare to say,  
That, but for her, we scarce had heard this day  
Of Caveär, and twenty such like babbles,  
Which Gluttony now sets upon our Tables.  
The broiling of old shoes, was her device;  
And so w●s eating Carrion, Rats, and Mice.  
Those dainty palates which could relish naught  
But what was fet far off, and dearly bought,  
She so hath d●●●ed, that they could feed  
On mouldy scraps; and beg them too for need.  
This Hag, hath Towns and Cities famished.  
With humane flesh, she hungry men hath ●ed:  
She fo●c't them hath to suck their horse's blood:  
To feed on Pigeons dung (in stead of food)  
And dearly purchase it. Yea, some constrained  
To drink their Urine, when they drought sustained.  
Nay, this is that unequalled cruell-one,  
Who urged a Mother, once, to kill her Son,  
And make unnaturally that cursed womb  
Which gave him being, to be made his tomb.  
Even this is She, God shield us from her cheer,  
And g●ant her Plagueship never settle here.  
The Pestilence, moreover, thither brought  
Her feared forces, and employment sought.  
This is that Nimble Fury, wh● did stay  
Her three and twenty thousand in one day;  
And in th' Assirïan Camp, to death did smite,  
Almost two hundred thousand in one night.  
Betwixt an evening and a morning-tide,  
From every house a soul she did divide  
Throughout the Land of Egypt; and could mark  
Their eldest-borne, although the night were dar●.  
In little space, she quite hath overthrown  
Great Cities, and dispeopled many a Town.  
She from each other makes acquaintance run,  
Before that any injuries be don●;  
And of t●e po●s'ning- Art hath found the height,  
For, she knows how to poison by conceit.  
A Mantle wrought with purple spots she wore,  
Embossed wi●h many a Blaine, and many a Sore.  
She had a raving Voice, a frantic Lock,  
A noisome Breath, and in her hand she shook  
A venomed spear, which, where it toucheth, fills  
The veins with poison, and distracts, and kills.  
Within her Regiment are all Diseases,  
And every Torment which the Body seizes;  
Go●ts, colics, Lethargies, and Apo●lexies,  
Obstruction, which the spleen, or stomach v●xe●;  
The ●ox of every kind, rheums, aches, Stiches,  
Quick-killing Pleurisies, and Scabs, and Itches;  
The Burning-Fever, who deserveth well  
The place of her lieutenant-colonel;  
Consumptions, Gangreeves, Coughs, and Squina●cie●,  
The Falling-evill, Cramps, and Lunacies,  
(With other such Diseases, many more  
Than I am able by their names to know)  
Besides those maladies the Sea procures,  
As, sloath-bred Scurvies', and mad Calentures;  
And all those other Griefs, and Sorrows, which  
Those Sicknesses do bring on poor and rich.  
But, of that Host which here is mentioned,  
The main Battalion was both ranged and led  
By that sly Prince, (even that malicious one)  
Which in the airy Region hath his throne.  
To further his designs, he brought in Lies,  
Extortion, Bribing, Fraud, and Perjuries;  
With many thousand stratagems beside,  
Whose dangerous effects are often tried.  
All ravenous Beasts, (or rather those of whom  
Such Beasts are Emblems) in his troops did come:  
To work his mischiefs (with amaze and wonder)  
He furnished was ●ith Lightnings, Winds, & Thunder;  
Prodigious apparitions, and those sights  
Wherewith men's troubled fancies he affrights;  
And, thither did (for soule-assaults) repair  
His two black Twins, Presumption and Despair.  
Attended by those manifold Temptations,  
Wherewith he maketh sure the reprobations  
Of all obdurate finners; whom in wrath  
Our God, deservedly rejected hath.  
These greedy Spoilers, hungry for a prey,  
Stood ready, God's commandings to obey:  
Who having viewed their well prepared Bands,  
(And pointing out his finger to these Lands)  
Said; Go ye Plagues. And (had he not been stayed)  
Lay waste, that sinful Realm, he would have said.  
And yet, it seems, these dreadful shows were ra●her  
The threatenings of a wise and loving Father,  
(To bring his Children to a filial fear)  
Then such a wrath as doth in Fo●s appear.  
For, ne●ther Chance, nor Time, no● New-desert,  
Was interposed on the guilty part:  
But, God's own good●ess● brought the means about  
That stopped our Doom, before his words were out.  
And thus it was. The great Almighty One  
Hath evermore attending on his th●one  
Two royal Daughters. One of t●em is she  
That's called justice; and her Emblems be  
An equal Balance, and a flaming Blade,  
To weigh the Good their due, and fright the ●ad:  
And, both with hand and eye she threatens those,  
That her uprightness, any way oppose.  
The other for her Hieroglyphic wears  
A Box of Balm, and in her bosom beare●  
A sucking Lamb, (which meek and harmless creature  
Doth somewhat intimate her gentle nature)  
Betwixt her beauteous breasts, a true Compassion  
Erecteth her perpetual habitation;  
And, su●h a lovely sweet aspect hath she,  
That's if Wrath saw her, Wrath in love would be.  
We call her Clemency. She o●ten makes  
Our peace with God, and his displeasure slakes.  
This Princess, ma●king well with what inte●t  
Her Lord would those great Armies forth have sent;  
And finding, by that wrath she saw in him,  
What Desolations would have followed them;  
With tears of pity, to his throne she ran,  
To kiss and to embrace hi● feet began;  
And (whilst his halfe-spoke sentence God delayed)  
These words, the fairewell spoken Virgin said.  
Dear, ●h dear Father! wherefore frown'st thou s●?  
What fearful thing art thou about to do?  
Hold (I beseech thee hold) thou back the doom,  
Which from thy lips is now about to come;  
And bear (Dread sovereign) hear thy Handmaid speak  
A word or two, before thy justice wreak  
Deserv●d vengeance on that wretched place  
Which hath so fallen from thy wont Grace.  
Loo● Father▪ look upon me: it is I,  
Thy bestbeloved Daughter CLEMENCY▪  
'tis I whom thou forgettest. I am she  
Who in thy bosom lay, beloved of thee  
Before all worlds; and had a sovereignty  
O'er all thy creatures from eternity.  
'tis I, at whose entreaty thou wert moved  
To send thine only Son, thy bestbeloved  
(For Man's redemption) to assume the nature,  
The form, and frailties, of a finfull creature.  
'tis I that have presumed to become  
A suitor now, to stay thy heavy drome:  
And, why should I be doubtful to make trial  
Of thy regard, or fearful of denial?  
In judgement, thou hast promised, oh Lord!  
To thi●ke on Me (even in thy w●itten word)  
Yea, Heaven and Earth have often heard thee say,  
Thou nev●r wouldst, for ever, cast away  
Thy Loving-Mercy; and, I know, thou mus●  
And wilt, be found in all thy sayings, just.  
But, then, to what intents, do These appear?  
Why are thy dreadful Armies mustered he●e?  
What favour is it possible to show,  
Where such a Rabblement as this, shall go?  
Why may not Pit●e show herself as well  
Within the bottom of the lowest Hell  
As where these revel? Doubtless, these rude Bands  
Will spare nor Laws nor Temples in those Lands  
To which thou send them shalt; but, from each plac●  
Root out (with every present means of Grace)  
All outward helps of present knowing thee,  
If equal to their hate, their power may be.  
And, what if than their breathless fury shall  
Leave some few trifles which are temporal?  
For what will they reserve them, but to breed  
A race of Infidels? a wicked seed,  
For them to pray upon? a Brood, to whom  
The Blessings left Damnation shall become.  
Thou hast upon that Island (I confess)  
Bestowed Favours, great and numberless.  
I know that they may justly blush for shame,  
To hear how grossly they abuse thy Name;  
Yea, th●y now are, and have a long time been,  
Grown out of measure sinful in their sin.  
Yet, if thou look upon them, thou shalt see  
Some there, who bend not unto ●aal their knee;  
Some left, who for thine honour sirme ha●e ●●ood;  
Some, who have garments washed in the blood  
Of thy unspotted Lamb: and some, which bear  
Those marks, that Seals of thy free pardon are.  
Oh! let not them enclosed w●th Sinners be,  
Nor swallowed up with such who know not thee.  
But, for the sakes o● those forbear thou, rath●r,  
The Tares, until thy Harvest thou shalt gather:  
So, by those Follies which in them abound,  
Thy Goodness shall the farther be renowned.  
If, therefore, thou this Kingdom shouldst not spare,  
Because, replete with sin her dwellings are,  
What Nation is there, or what Habitation,  
That merits not perpetual reprobation?  
Where wilt t●ou find a People, under Heaven,  
Which hath not every way occasion given  
Of thy displeasure? Or, what Man is there  
That in thy sight could justified appear,  
If thou shouldst mark him with a frowning eye?  
And, what a pretty Nothing, then were I,  
If no man lived, that amiss had done,  
For me, to exercise my pity on?  
Nay, if Transgression had but finite been,  
How should thy Mercies infinite. be seen?  
Though on this Field (which thou hast ploughed & sown  
With purest Wheat) some wickedones have thrown  
Their Tares, by night; yet, somewhat it hath borne  
For which it may be ●ald thy Field of Corne.  
Thy Fence is yet about it; and there stands  
A Fort, and Winepress, builded by thy hands.  
There are thy Sacraments, thy Word divine,  
There, is the School of Christian Discipline.  
There, may the me●nes of Grace be kept in s●ore  
For those who will hereafter prize them more.  
Thy poo●e afflicted Servants▪ thither may  
From foreign persecutions fly away;  
●●d sheltered in a Storm, there s●f●ly tarry,  
As in a Fortress, or a sanctuary.  
But, whither shall they fly when that lies waste?  
Where shall thy sacred Oracles be placed?  
Or whither with her Son that Woman go,  
Who by the Dragon is pursued so?  
I know that if thou please thou canst provide  
A place for her, securely to abide,  
Amid the Western wilderness (and where  
Scarce glimmerings of thy favours yet appear)  
By moulding out the Heathen Savages  
To be a people far surpassing these.  
This, Lord, thou couldst effect▪ and make of them  
Thy people, whom these most of all contemn.  
And, since this Nation, in their wealth peace,  
Have sent out Colonies, but to increase  
Their private gain: since they fair shows have made  
Of publishing thy Gospel▪ when the Trade  
For cursed lucre (as the Times reveal)  
Was chiefest founder of their feigned zeal:  
Since they in that, and other things, pretend  
Religion, when 'tis farthest from their end:  
Thou didst but right, if thou shouldst force their se●d  
To set●le on some barbarous Coast for reed;  
And, there, thy Truth, to those, with sorrow preach,  
Whom they neglected, in their weal, to teach.  
But, since it were no more for thee to do,  
This Land to save, and call another too,  
Then one such work so compass; why I pray  
Shouldst thou remove their Candlestick away?  
Why mayst not Thou, who all compassion art,  
Thy people, rather, by thy power convert,  
Then quite destroy them? wherefore shouldst thou no●  
Their errors forth ●f thy remembrance blot,  
As heretofore? And always praised be  
For that abundant Love, which is in thee?  
Why should their Foes and thine, with jeering say,  
Now, ●ow we see our long-expected Day▪  
Why w●lt thou give them cause to domineer?  
Even those, who love not thee, to laugh, and fleer  
A● their destruction, who, thy Truth professed,  
(If not unfeignedly) in show, at least.  
Though t●ey have ill-deserved, why should the shame  
Of their offence fall upon thy Name?  
And, thy Blasphemers (by thy People's fall)  
Assume the ●oldnesse on themselves, to call  
Thy Gospel into question? Or, thereby,  
T●ei● shameless falsehoods seek to justify?  
Why should the wicked, take occasion from  
Th●se plague's, to say▪ Where is their God become?  
Where is their power, on which they did r●pose?  
Where is their ●aith? where are the hopes of those  
Their services? Oh! for thine own dear sake,  
(However they deserve) compassion take.  
Dear SIR, have pity: and, as often, thou  
Hast granted my request, vouchsafe it now.  
Yea, to those many thousands, heretofore,  
From thy abundance, add one favour more▪  
By these, and other Motives (breathed from  
A zealous breast) the heavens are overcome.  
His love of us, doth so our Samson wound,  
That, he hath taught us, how he may be bound.  
Yea, Holy-writ informeth us, that He,  
By such like Charm, will compelled be.  
And, now they so prevailed, that the rage  
Of our great God, they partly did assuage.  
Which, MER●Y by his look, had quickly heeded;  
And taking that advantage, thus proceeded,  
Oh! what a co●fort is it, to behold▪  
Thine Eye speak Mercy, and thy Brow unfold  
A reconcilement! Now, I seem to see  
Thy gracious face, to shine again on me.  
I find it is the jealousy of Love,  
(And no effect of hatred) which doth mov●  
Thy wronged Patience: and, that when thou hidest  
Thy presence in an angry Cloud, or chidest,  
It 〈◊〉 not always in consuming wrath,  
(●o punish, as the faul● deserved hath)  
But, that thy frighting judgements might prevail,  
To work amendment, when thy Love doth fail.  
That People whom so much thou didst affect,  
How canst tho● have a purpose to reject,  
So long as in their Confines doth remain  
That Number, which thy Vengeance doth restrain?  
Who can believe ●hat thou defra●a'st such cost,  
To purchase what, thou meanest shall be lost?  
Or, labour to erect them, didst bestow,  
For nothing else, but them away ●o throw?  
Why should I think, thy endless▪ goodness, had  
So little care, to save what thou hast made,  
That Satan's Hate, should for their Desolation,  
Outwork thy Love, in working their Salvation?  
Or, that the boundlessness of M●ns transgression,  
Could over-match thine Infinite Compassion?  
It m●y not be believed; Or, that this  
Pre●ended war, for final ruin is.  
Since, if in summoning thy Iudgement●, now,  
Thou hadst proposed their u●ter overthrow,  
Thou wouldst not have discovered an assection,  
●y still continuing them, in thy prote●tion,  
As yet thou dost: Nor ●a●ly s●nd unto them  
Love-tokens, (as if kindness, thou wouldst do them  
Which they should never know of) nor, make show  
Os having ●eft them, when 'tis nothing so  
Thus hav● I seen, on earth, a Lover use  
His Bestbeloved, when she did abuse  
His true affection. Though he seem unkind,  
That her unkindness she may thereby find●;  
Yea, though he feign some outward disrespec●●,  
Yet, in his hea●t, so truly he affects,  
That, whats●ever good, he can, he does her:  
By means unscene, to her lost virtues, woves her:  
For h●r well-doing, takes a thousand cares:  
Of her ill-doing, hath ten thousand sears:  
Wakes not, but thoughts of her, in waking, keeps;  
Sleeps not, but dreameth of her, when he sleep●s.  
Not ceasing to endeavour, 〈◊〉 he see  
Some sparks of lost affection kindled be.  
And, as her over sights she doth deplore,  
So, he his love discovers, more and more;  
Until the fire, that was a long tim● bid,  
Break forth, and flame as high as e'er it did.  
I never knew thee, yet, to ruinated  
A wicked Kingdoms, or a sinful State,  
Professing thee; but, thou didst first withdr●w  
From those Offenders, thy abused Law.  
And, as in Christian Realms, the temporal Sword  
Cuts off no Preacher of thy blessed Word,  
(For any Crime committed) until he  
Of Holy-orders, first degraded be:  
So, thou (most frequently) dost first remove  
The Scales of Grace, and Pledges of thy Love,  
B●fore thou give up Lands into their power,  
Who them, and theirs, shall finally devour:  
For, till thy holy things, be fetched from  
Th●ir Coast, such Desolation shall not come.  
Those, they retain. And, if conclude I shall  
From hope of any blessing temporal,  
That yet thou lovest them (and dost intend  
Their Land, with future favours, to befriend)  
That King which thou hast now on them bestown,  
Some token of thy Clemency hath shown.  
For, if man may by good external signs,  
Conjecture whereunto his heart inclines:  
If Thou, to whom all secrets open be,  
See'st that in him, which mortals hope they see;  
And hast not mocked that People, sor their sin,  
With shows of things that have not real been:  
(As Lord forbid) No Kingdom hath a Prince,  
Whose infant years, gave ●etter evidence,  
●hat with an earthly Crown he should inherit,  
A plenteous portion of thy sacred Spirit.  
None liveth now, on whom the general eye  
Did so much gaze, and so few escapes espy.  
F●w private men were in their youth so fr●e  
From all those vanities, which frequent be  
In these rude times (he having means to do  
His pleasure, and, perhaps, s●rong tempt too)  
Who seemed of those knowledges, more fain  
That might inform him, to obey, and reign?  
How well those cross was he thought to bear,  
Which in the times of his subjection were?  
And, with how brave a temper to neglect,  
To be avenged of wrongs and disrespect?  
●hat Son, did in his Father's life time, show  
●●iliall fear and love, united so?  
Or, which of all thy Viceroys didst thou see  
Appear more zealously devout than ●e?  
Thou knowest which: But, if they do not err  
Who, things by probability, infer,  
It might be said, The world had not his peer  
In all those virtues, that are mentioned here.  
And should confessed be, even of his so,  
They had not flattered who affirmed so:  
Since, what was of his worth, at home conceiv●d,  
All Europe for a verity received.  
And lo●; now by thy Grace he sitteth on  
The seat of Rule, and in his Father's Th●one;  
Who giveth signs of truer love to thee?  
Or of more conscience, of his Charge, the● He?  
What Monarch, in appearance, better preache●h  
By good Examples, what thy Precepts teacheth?  
Or which of all his reverend Prelacy,  
In shows of true religious constancy,  
Outgoes or equals him? Oh! if so clear  
His virtues prove▪ as yet they do appear,  
How glorious will they grow? And, what a light  
Will he become, when he ascends the height  
Of his great Orb? And, oh! what pity 'twere  
His mind should ever fall below that sphere  
Of Grace which he hath climbed! or, that thy Love  
Should wanting be, to keep him still above!  
How grievous would it be, that his beginning  
(So hopeful, and such l●ve and honour winning)  
Should fail that expectation, which it hath?  
And, make thee shut thy favour up, in wrath?  
Let not oh God let not the sins of others  
Nor any fog (which Virtues glory smothers)  
Ascending from his frailties, make obscure  
His rising honour, which yet seemeth pure.  
If might, in him, be w●nting of that worth  
Which to the public view is blazed forth,  
Forgive, and perfect him, that he may grow,  
To be in deed, what he appears in show.  
Yea, Lord (as far as humane frailty can  
Permit the sa●e) make him, even such a Man  
As now that Kingdom needs; and spare that Nation  
For him, which else deserveth Desolation.  
〈◊〉 If he be what he seemeth; Thou (I know)  
●ilt save his Land from utter overthrow.  
Thou, in the life-time of a pious King,  
Wert never yet, accustomed to bring  
Destruction: For, thou show'dst him compassion,  
Who did but once, well act humiliation;  
even wicked Ahab; and within his Times  
Thou wouldst not punish (no no●) his own Crimes.  
Oh! be as merciful, as thou hast been;  
And let this King▪ thy favours triumph in.  
●et that exceeding Grace already showed him,  
(Even that wherewith thy Spirit hath endued him)  
Be Pledges of some greater Gifts, with whic●  
Thou shalt in future times, his heart enrich.  
His br●st inflame thou, with a sacred fire;  
Teach him to ask, and give him his desire:  
Grant him thy Wìsdome, and thy Righteousness,  
The wrongs of all his People to redress.  
Let him the Widow, and the Orphan save,  
Relieving all, that need of succour have:  
And, let his Mountains, and each lesser Hill,  
Hi● humbler Dales, with peace, and plenty fill.  
As he was honoured in his Preservation,  
So, let him glory still in thy Salvation.  
As he persisteth to rely on thee;  
So, let him sure of thy protection be.  
Be thou his only joy. Be thou I pray  
His Triumph on his Coronation-●ay.  
Crown thou his head with purified gold:  
Make strong his Sceptre, ●nd his Throne uphold,  
To be renowned by thy Grace divine,  
As long as either Sun, or Moon shall shine.  
Since thou to rule thine Isr●el dost appoint him,  
Let thy most holy Spirit, Lord, anoint him.  
Make thou a league with him, as thou hast done  
With David, and adopt him for thy Sonn●.  
To thee, Thou art my Father, let him say,  
My God, my Rock of safety, and my stay.  
Throughout those Lands, where thou to reign shalt place him  
With Title, of thy First-begotten, grace him.  
And, let his Kingdoms harbour none of them,  
Who shall deny him to be their Supreme.  
So guard, and so enclose him with thine Arm,  
The Man of Sin; may nev●r do him harm.  
To him, his Adversaries all subject,  
And, prosper none that him shall disaffect.  
Led thou his Armies, when his War begins;  
Make thou his Peace, when he the Battle wins.  
Let still thy Truth, and Love, with him abide;  
Let in thy Name, his name be glorified.  
Do thou the Seas into his power deliver;  
Make thou his right hand reach beyond the River;  
And, plant so strongly on the Banks of Rhyne,  
Those fruitful Branches of his Father's Vine,  
(Whom late the savage Boar (with tripled power)  
Hath rooted up, with purpose to devour)  
That they may spread their Clusters, far and nigh;  
And fill, and top, the German Empery.  
Yea, mind thou, Lord, the scorns and de●amations,  
Which they have borne among their neighbouring nations▪  
And, please to comfort them, and make them glad,  
According to the sorrows they have had.  
To them, so sanctify their great affliction,  
That it may bring their virtues to perfection;  
And, fit them for some place, in which they shall  
Help rear again, decaying Zions wall.  
Oh! keep for them, a favour still in store;  
Preserve them in thy League, for evermore;  
Bless thou that Race, which is or shall be given:  
As lasting make it, as the day●s of heaven:  
And, if thy Laws or judgements, they forsake,  
Or, if thy League, or Covenant, they break,  
With Rods, let them, in mercy, be corrected;  
But, never fall, for aye, to be rejected.  
The like for this new Monarch, I implore:  
In him, increase thy Graces, more, and more.  
Make ●im a Blessing, for all Christendom:  
Make him, a Pattern, for all Times to come:  
Make him, in every happy course persever;  
And, let him live, for ever and for ever.  
His Royal Robe, he hath but new put on;  
And, I my prayers have but new begun.  
Oh let me to thy Majesty prefer  
These few Petitions, in particular:  
And place them where, they may both day and night,  
Stand, evermore, unfolded in thy sight.  
First, teach him, to consider, how and why,  
T●ou hast enthroned him on a seat so high▪  
And, so to think on his great charge; and trust,  
As one who knows he come to reckoning m●st:  
Fo●, honours if by thee they be not blest,  
Make wisest men as brutish as a beast.  
Teach him to mind, how great the favour wa●,  
When thou, of thy mere motion, and thy Grace,  
Didst from so many millions choose out him,  
To wear this Kingdom's fourfold Diadem:  
And, make thy Servants, favoured in his sight▪  
As thou hast made of him, thy Favourite.  
Teach him, the fittest means to take away  
(And let none murmur at his just delay)  
Those Groves, and those Hill-Altars in the Land,  
Which suffered are unt●ll his days to stand:  
And, give him wisdom, wisely to foresee,  
That Wheat from Chaff, may well distinguished be.  
For, some will, else, bring Truth into suspicion,  
Condemn good Discipline, for Superstition;  
And with fair shows, of Piety, beguile,  
That underhand they may encroach, the while,  
On God's Inheritance; and from her tear  
Those outward Ornaments his Bride doth wear.  
Oh! let him purge from Church and Commonweal,  
Those inflammations of corrupted zeal,  
And indigested humours, which do spread  
Distempers through the Stomach; pain the Head:  
And, by preposterous courses, raise a storm  
To rend that Body, which it would reform.  
Let him, his Reformations, first begin,  
Like David, with himself: and search within  
The closet of his heart, what he can find,  
Which may annoy him there, in any kind:  
And let him thence expel it, though it were,  
As dear unto him as his eyeballs are.  
His Household, let him next inquire into,  
And, well informed be, what there they do▪  
That, so he may expect thy Comming-day  
With heart upright, and in a perfect way.  
Let him in no profaneness take delight,  
Nor brook a wicked person in his sight.  
●e● no Blasphemer in his presence tarry;  
Nor they that falsehoods, to and fro, do carry.  
L●t him acquaintance with all such refrains;  
The lowly cherish; haughty minds restrain●;  
Inquire for them that virtuously excel,  
And take in honest men with him to dwell.  
No such Projector, who doth put in use  
Great Injuries, to mend a small abuse;  
Nor such, who in reforming, do no other  
B●t rob one Knave, to help enrich another;  
And prove themselves, when trial doth befall,  
To be, perhaps, the veriest K●aves of all.  
Let him be cursed with no base Officer,  
Who doth before true Honour, Gold prefer;  
And, ●o enrich his Ches●, a little more,  
Would in his Reputation, make him poor:  
Or with some needless Treasure, to supply him,  
Lose him more Lo●e, than all his Lands can buy him.  
Let no man of his daily bread partake,  
Who at thy holy Board shall him forsake;  
And, lay thou open their dissimulation,  
Who shall approve of Naaman's Toleration.  
Krepe from his Counsels, though their wit excels,  
All Hypocrites, and all Achitophel's.  
Yea, let thy Wisdom, hi● discretion bless,  
From Rehoboams' childish wilfulness,  
Who lef● his ancient Princes good directions,  
●o follow his young Nobles raw projections.  
Or, if ●e like their Counsels, and receive them,  
Harme let th●m bring to none but those wh● gave them:  
And, if to him some damage they procure,  
Let present loss his future peace procure.  
Make him perceive that humane Policy  
〈◊〉 H●nd m●id to religious Honesty;  
And that, the man who doth foundations lay  
On justice, (and proves constant in his w●y)  
Shall mad the Politician; and ●ake vain  
His undermine without fear●, or pain.  
For, as a Fowler seldom doth su●prise  
That wary Bird, which can her s●lfe suffice,  
With what thy ●and provideth in the fields,  
Or, what the forest, for h●r die● yields:  
So, sleights of Policy (although, perchance,  
They seem, a while, to work some hindrance)  
Can disadvantage no●e, but those, who leaving  
The paths of Virtue, and themselves deceiving  
With some false hopes (which were before them laid)  
Made them the means, whereby they were betrayed.  
Make him as precious in his People's eyes  
As their own blood. Far higher let them prize  
His honour then their fortunes; and let him,  
Be every way as tender over them.  
Yea, let the mutual love, betwixt them bred,  
Unite them as the Body, and the Head.  
●or, such a blessed Union doth procure  
More safety than four Kingdoms can assure;  
Commands men's hearts, their fortunes, and their lives,  
Is chief of all his chief Prerogatives;  
And shall more comfort, and more profit do him,  
Then all those fruitless claims can bring unto him;  
Whereto, perchance, they urge him will, who shall  
Pretend his honour, when they seek his fall.  
Such men in Princes Courts were ●ver found,  
But, thou their l●wd Projections wilt confound;  
And, when their vain devise b●ing on them,  
Confusion, who thi● r●all Truth contemn;  
When such men's foolish counsels, shall have brought  
Th●se mischief's o● them which thei● hands have wrought  
(Yea, when oppressed, with fears and discontent,  
They shall, too late, perhaps, their course repent)  
Then, they in heart shall forced be to say,  
That, what they slighted was the safest way.  
Bless him from those, who censure his Intents,  
His Counsel●, or his Actions by events:  
An● saw●ily, his judges dare appear  
On every slanderous Rumour they shall hea●e.  
Preserve him from those Minions (who do raise  
Their credits by another man's dispraise)  
That Machiavellian crew, who to endear  
Their base immerits, fill the royal ear  
With tales, and false reports, concerning those  
Who their misdoings legally oppose:  
They, who grown great with rapine, and made strong,  
With wealth extorted to the public wrong,  
Still add (to cover what misdone hath been)  
New wrongs; and make new partners in their sin,  
In hope their number ●eep them shall unshent:  
And, silence and condemn the Innocent.  
Make him abhor such Apes, and such Baboons,  
As Parasites, and impudent Buffoons:  
Such, as would make their Princes glad with lies:  
Such, as with filthy tales of ribaldries,  
With ●curvile songs, with unbeseeming jests,  
And stuff which every civil ●are detests,  
Abuse Kings Chambers. Let all those who buy  
Their Offices (which is lay Simony)  
H●ve always his dislike; and not recover  
His good esteem again, till they give ove●  
Their evil gotten places. Let all such  
Who for the seats o● judgement, do as much,  
Appear to him as men who are detected  
Of 〈◊〉 crimes; and ever be suspected  
Of some Corruption: for, it may be thought,  
That money must be made of wh●t is bought.  
Let him the causes of Abuse discern;  
Let him the cure of every mischief's learn;  
Let him of what he knoweth, practice make;  
Let all his People, his example take.  
Give them repentance for their passed crimes;  
Assist them by thy grace, in future times;  
And send thy Holy-Spi●i● through their Lands,  
To keep them in the way of thy Commands.  
So, thou in their Devotions wilt ●e pleased,  
So, all thine anger will be quite appeased;  
So, King and People, praise thee shall▪ together;  
And, then, thou needest not send these Armies thither.  
Thus MERCY spoke; & more she would have said  
(For, she could everlastingly have prayed)  
To this effect. But▪ JUSTICE having spied  
God's eye to ma●ke, how she seemed satisfied;  
(And looking somewhat sternly, to betoken  
That MERCY in her injury had spoken)  
Thus interrupted her. Fair Sister, stay;  
And, do not think to bear my right away  
With smoothed words. Thou art an Advocate  
Well known to be the most importunate  
That ever pleaded: and, thou hast a trick  
With these moist eyes, beyond all Rhetoric.  
So that, unless I make it still appear,  
What gross offenders all thy Clients are,  
A Bill of mine (how just soe'er the case)  
Would seldom in this great Star-chamber pass.  
No place, no person's, are so dissolute,  
But if they whine to thee, thou makest suit  
On their behalves. Thou wert Solicitor  
For King Manasses (that Idolater  
And got'st his pardon. Thou hast Proctresse been  
For jeroboam (who m●de Isr'el sin)  
That hand recurring which he did extend,  
The Messenger of God, to apprehend.  
Thou art f●r any who in thee believes,  
Though Traitors, Strumpets, Murderers, or Th●eves.  
Thou prayd'st for N●neveh; yea thou hast prayed  
For Sodom; and my hand had sure been stayed  
When I consumed them, if there had been, then,  
In five great Cities, b●t ten righteous men.  
I never yet could get a verdict passed  
On any Sinner, but thou crossed it haste,  
Upon the teast repentance. And if ●ver  
To serve an Execution I endeavour,  
Thou; still, one means or other dost procure,  
To mitigate the strictest forfeiture.  
Thee, for delaying judgements, I prefer  
Even far before the Courts at Westminster.  
And, if I longer these thy dealing bear,  
Thou here wilt use me, as they use me there.  
For, lat●ly I surveyed it; and saw  
Their Chancery had half devoured their Law.  
Sweet Lady call to mind, there is a due  
Pertaining equally to me and you.  
As nothing without MERCY should be done;  
So JUSTICE shoul● not be encroa●ht upon.  
I claim a Daughter's part, and I desire  
To keep min● own inheritance in●ire.  
ay, for your sake, huge Armies, often save,  
When they had, else, been rotting in the grave.  
I suffer you to wipe more sins away  
Then twice ten thousand millions in a day.  
There's none whom I do punish for his crimes,  
B●t I doescarre him first, a thousand times  
(At your entreaty) when, if I had pleased,  
I might so many times his life have seized.  
Yea, I shoul● none have injured▪ though I had  
Of all the World, long since, a Bonfire made.  
For, what effects hath your Compassion wrought?  
What Offring●, to God's Altars, now are brought  
By my long sparing them? Nay, have they not  
H●m, and his awful power, the more forgot?  
What did I say? forgot him? If they had  
Used him and his Indulgence but so bad,  
Thou mightst have spoken for them; and I could  
Have left thy supplications uncontrolled.  
But, they have aggravated their neglect,  
With such base villainies, such disrespect,  
And such contempt of Him, of Thee, and Me,  
That if we bear it, we shall scorned be.  
They so presumptuous are, that well I know,  
Were but a petty- justice used so,  
He would not brook it: But, so rough appear,  
That all the sin-professing houses near,  
Of Reformation would be much in doubt;  
And fear they should not buy his Ange● out,  
Though they presented him with coin and wares;  
And bribed his Clerk, with whom, 'tis thought he s●ares.  
I will not therefore palliate their despite;  
I will not be debarred of my right;  
I will not make myself a public scorn;  
Nor will I longer bear what I have borne.  
Here with (as if she thought it were in vain,  
For Vengeance, unto MERCY to complain)  
She raised her eyes; she fixed them upon  
The ●hrone of heaven, and Him that sat thereon:  
Then bowed thrice, and, then to her complaint▪  
She ●hus proceeded like an An●ry Saint  
Great JUDGE of all the world just, wise, and holy;  
Who sin abhorrest, and correctest folly:  
Who drivest all uncleanness from thy sight,  
And feared art, even of the most upright:  
Consider well my Cause, and let thou not  
Thy JUSTICE in thy MERCY be forgot▪  
As well as this my sister, so am I  
United unto thee essentially  
Before all Time; and there is cause for me  
To boast thy favour, full as much as she.  
For, to maintain thy justice (and approve  
Th●t sacred, never violated Love  
Thou bearest me) great Monarkies have drunk  
Thy cup of wrath; and into ruin sunk.  
For their contempt of me, thou hast rejected  
The Nation, of all Nations, most affected.  
Once, thou the Globe of Earth didst wholly drown;  
From Heaven thou threw'st the sinful Angel's down:  
And (which is more) thy Best beloved died,  
That my displeasure might be satisfied.  
But, l●t no former favour me avail,  
If now of Reason on my side I fail.  
I n●ver did a Vengeance, yet pursue  
Before it was required by double due.  
I never plagued any in despite,  
Nor in the death of sinners took delight.  
Why therefore thus is my proceeding stayed?  
And thy just wrath so suddenly alaid?  
Hath Mercy their offences vailed so,  
That thou beholdest not what faults th●y do?  
And wilt thou still continue thy compassion  
To this unthankful and forgetful Nation?  
What are they, but a most corrupted breed?  
A wicked, a perverse, ingrateful seed?  
A people for instruction so untoward,  
So stubborn in their courses, and so ●roward,  
That, neither threats, nor plagues, nor lo●e can mend ●hem,  
And therefore Desolation must attend them.  
Me they have injured, past all compare;  
They flout me to my face; they me out dare  
Even on my Iudgement-se●ts; they truth deny▪  
Although they knew, their hearers know they lie.  
They use my Titles, and my Offices,  
But as a means to rob, or to oppress  
The poorer sort: and he that wrong sustains,  
Is sure of more, if he for right complains.  
Search thou their Streets, their Markets, & their Courts;  
Note where the greatest multitude resorts,  
And if thou find a man among them, th●re,  
That hath of Truth or judgement any care,  
Him let thine Angel save. But, thou shalt see  
That nothing else from heel to head they be,  
But swellings, wounds, and sores: that they are wholly  
O'regrowne with leprosies of noisome folly;  
And that, among them, there abideth none,  
Whose path is right and perfect, no not one.  
Their studies, are in cheating tricks, and shifts.  
Their practice, is to compass bribes, and gifts.  
Their silver is but dross. Their wine impure.  
Th●ir finest gold, will not the touch endure.  
The poor oppress the poor. The Child ass●mes  
An El●ers place. The basest Groom presu●es  
B●fore t●e Noble. Wom●n t●ke on them  
men's habits and subjection do contemn.  
Men grow effeminate. Age dotes, Youth raves,  
The beggar's proud. The rich man, basely craves.  
The neighbour of his neighbour goes in danger;  
The brother to the brother grows a stranger.  
There is no kin, but Cousnage. Few profess  
Affection, Amity, or Friendliness,  
But to dec●ive. If men each ●ther greet,  
With shows of wondrous friendship, when they meet,  
They do but practise kin●ly to betray;  
And jeer, and scoff, when th●y depart away:  
Th●y labour, and they study, ly●s to make:  
To grow more wicked, serious pains they take:  
Wolves are as merciful: Their Dogs as holy:  
Virtue, th●y count a Fool: Religion, folly.  
Their Laws are but their nets, and ginniss, to take  
Those whom they hate, and seek their prey to make:  
The patronage of ●ruth, no●e standeth for:  
The way of Piety, they do abhor:  
They meet unseen, the harmless to ●eceive▪  
They h●tch the Cockatrice: They s●ely wove  
The Spider's web; and, when in bed they a●e,  
They lie and study plots of mischief ●here.  
And, why thus fares it? b●t, because they see  
That (how unjust soe'er their Courses b●)  
They prosper in their wickednesse, and ●hrive,  
Whilst th●y who honour thee afflicted live.  
If any man reprove their damned way,  
They persecute, and slander him, and say;  
Come, let us smite him with our tongue, that he,  
And his reproofs, may unregarded be.  
They desperately resolve a wicked Course;  
And, every day proceed from bad▪ to wo●se.  
Themselves they soothe in evil: and profess  
In public manner, Trades of wickedness▪  
They impudently boast of their Transgressions,  
And madly, glory in their great Oppressions.  
Yea, some so far have ●ver-gone the Devils  
In shamelessness, that they make brag of evils  
Which they committed not (as if th●y feared  
That else they had not lewd enough appeared)  
Whereas, they from themselves would strive to fly,  
If they could s●e their own deformity.  
For, what remaineth to be termed ill  
Which they are guiltless of, in act, or will?  
Th●y, gall unto the hungry prof●r'd have:  
They, vinegar unto the thirsty gave:  
With brutish fierceness they themselves array:  
Unsatisfied in their lust are they,  
And neither earth nor heaven escapes the wrongs  
Of their injurious and blasphemous tongue●.  
With every member, they dishonour Thee,  
No part of them from wickedness is free:  
Their Eyes, are wand'ring after vanity,  
And leer about, advantages to spy.  
Their Ears are deaf to goodness; but most pro●e  
To hear a sl●nder told of any one:  
And h●ve an itching after every thin●,  
Which, news of sensuality, may bring.  
Their braz●n Foreheads, without shame appear:  
Their Teeth are sharper than a sword o● spear:  
Their Lips, as keenly cut, as Razors do;  
And, under them, is Adder's poison too.  
Their Mouths with bitter cursing, overflow:  
Their oily Tongues, contention dail● sow:  
In Heart, they Falsehood before Truth, prefer:  
Their Throats, are like a gaping Sepulchre:  
Fowl belchings from their Stomaches do arise,  
Even filthy speeches; and rank blasphemies.  
Their Hands (their right hands) lawless gifts receive:  
With Bribes, their Fingers, they defiled have.  
Their Feet, are swift in executing ill,  
And, run the blood of innocents to spill.  
They are corrupt in every Faculty;  
In Understanding, Will, and Memory;  
Yea, th●ir most specious works of piety  
Are little else, but mere hypocrisy.  
All stained with Murders, Thefts, Adulteries,  
And other unrepented Villainies  
Thy House they enter, as if they were cle●re,  
Or, thither came, but to out brave thee there.  
There, they display their pride: there, they contemn  
Thy Messengers▪ or, sit and censure them.  
There, they disturb thy Children in their prayers,  
By tattling of impertinent affairs.  
The many roving looks, they throw about,  
Do prove them, far more wanton, than devout.  
And, say, they bring devotion for a fit:  
Alas! what pleasure canst thou take in it?  
Or, what do they but mock thee, when they pray,  
Unless their wickedness they cast away?  
What profits it, to kneel sometime an hour?  
To fast a day? to look demure, or sour?  
To raise the hands aloft? the breast to strike?  
To shake the head, or hang it Bulrush like?  
And, all that while to have no thought of thee;  
But on base projects, musing, there, to be?  
I many such enormities might name,  
Wherein this People have been much to blame.  
And, shall they still, thy gentleness contemn?  
Wilt thou forbear, for this, to punish them?  
Shall such devotion be regarded more,  
Then if they brought the ●yring of a whore?  
Or sacrificed a Dog? Nay, though they had  
Of far fet Calamus an Offering made,  
Or, incense brought from Sheba; do they think  
The smoke of that, shall take away the stink  
Of their corruption? shall this wicked Throng▪  
(Who partners are in every kind of wrong,  
And Reformation hate) still spared be  
Because they can a little prate of thee?  
Make zealous outward shows; and preach thy word,  
Whose power they have denied? (if not abhorred:)  
Let me consume them rather. For, Compassion  
So often hath prevailed for this Nation,  
That, all my threatenings are no whit regarded,  
Thy Pittìe is with disrespect rewarded;  
Thy Blows do nothing soften them: but, more  
Hard hearted, rather, make them then before.  
They neither know nor s●eke thee. They scarce deign  
So much as thoughts of thee to entertain.  
Or if they do; yet, thou in kindness, hast  
So frequently, their errors over past  
With gentle stripes; that they conjecture, now  
That thou art like to them, and dost allow  
Their wick●d courses. For, Is there (say they)  
In God, or sight, or knowledge of our way?  
Doth he behold, or car● what things we do?  
Will he take vengeance? Tush, it is not so.  
Such fables were devised in times of old,  
And of strange judgements, stories have been told;  
But, who hath seen them? or, when will appear  
That Day of Doom, whereof so oft we hear?  
Sure never. For the wo●ld doth still remain  
The same it was; and these are fears in vain.  
Oh! what will this increase unto, if thus  
Thou suffer them to make a scorn of us?  
Where is thy fear, if thou a Master be?  
Why, (if a God) should they not honour thee?  
What means thy long long-suffring? and, what way  
To work amendment wilt thou next assay?  
Thou hast already moved them to repent,  
By Threats, Gifts, Precepts, and by Punishment.  
To stop their wickedness, thou Floods, and Drought,  
Frosts, F●●es, and Tempests, hast upon them brought.  
Distempers, F●ights, and (many times of late)  
Distrusts, and hazards of the public State.  
With every kind of Sickness, thou hast tried them;  
With Pestilence, and Famine, mortified them:  
With Slaughters●hou ●hou has● foiled them; and betwixt  
Each Plague, thou Mercy still hast intermixed▪  
Yet▪ all in vain. Oh! rise, and suffer me  
On all at once avenged now to be.  
Pluck from thy bosom, thy sure striking hand,  
And, let it fall so heavy on that Land,  
That, all their Follies may their merit have,  
And, they be put to silence in the grave.  
Permit them not unplagued to persever,  
Blaspheming thus, thy Name and thee for ever.  
But, l●t me every Plague upon them cast,  
Which thou, for such as they, prepared haste.  
Let them perceive, that they have loved and served  
Those gods, by whom they cannot be preserved.  
Let me transport from their polluted Coast,  
Those Holy-things, whereof they vainly boast:  
And, let not their profaneness be protected  
By that, whi●h they so much have disrespected.  
For, why shouldst thou forbear this people more  
Than ma●y other Nations heretofore?  
Since they for their example those have had  
The less excusable their faults are made.  
Yea, though their wickedness were but the same,  
Yet, they are worthy of a greater blame.  
〈◊〉 What are they better than the stubborn jews?  
Wherein, do they thy blessings less abuse?  
What have their Temples, of more worth in them  
Then Shilo, Bethel, or jerusalem,  
That we should spare their ma●y sleepled Towers,  
Not rather making them the Nests, and Bowers  
Of noisome Vermin, and such fatal Fowls,  
As croaking Ravens, and loud screeching Owls?  
Why shouldst thou not, as low this I'll decline,  
As Milk and Hony-flowing Palestine?  
What ●ave they more deserved of thy pity  
Then Zion, thy so much bel●ved City?  
Or, wherefore should their Seed be thought upon  
More kindly, the● the britts of Babylon?  
Why should their Common wealth, more prised be,  
Then thos● great Monarchies destroyed b● me  
In former ages, whose transcendent Fate,  
●ach Time succeeding, hath admired at?  
Yea, since the World thou didst for s●●ning, drown,  
Why should such mercy to thi● Land be shown?  
If thou a pious King to them ●ast given,  
What loseth be, if then from thence to Heaven  
Translate him shall? From earthly Crowns, to wear  
Those wreathes of Glory that immortal are?  
And from a froward People, to have place  
With Angels, and there triumph in thy grace?  
If any man be found observing thee,  
To him what discontentment can it be  
To view my hand prevailing over those  
Who me in my proceedings did oppose?  
And see those Tyrants ruined, who have long  
Committed violence, and offered wrong  
To him, and his? what berme hath he I pray,  
To pass through all that sorrow in one day,  
And in thy blessed presence to appear,  
Who else might here have lingered many a year?  
Of what can he complain, if being borne  
Above the reach of every future scorn,  
Within thy heavenly Mansion, he possess  
A perfect, and an endless happiness?  
Why may not JUSTICE glorify ●hy Name,  
As well as MERCY can extol the same?  
Why should thy former favours, being lost,  
Oblige thee to defray a future cost  
On Prodigals, and Unthrifts, who had rather  
Live Swineherds, than return to th●e their Father?  
Why may not that reproach diverted be,  
Which irreligious men will cast on thee  
Although thou spare not hypocrites; and them  
Who are the causers that thy Foes blaspheme?  
What disadvantage can their fall effect  
To thy pure honour? or, to thine elect,  
Which may not be prevented (if thou ●lease)  
Although thou be not merciful to these?  
Sure, none at all: and, therefore, I will stay  
My hand no longer; but break off delay.  
Thy Sword and Balance, are with me in trust;  
To punish Sin, I know it to be just;  
They both arraigned, and condemned are;  
My warrant●, in thy written Word appea●e:  
Their crimes, for Vengeance, loudly crying ●e:  
Thy judgements, ready mustered are, by ●hee:  
Thine eye doth speak unto me to be gone;  
And, lo; I fly to see thy pleasure done.  
As when a Mother on a sudden hearing  
Her babe to shrieke, (and some disaster fearing  
That may befall ●he child) starts up and flies  
To see the reason of her Infant's cries:  
So quick, was JUSTICE; & e'er now, had brought  
Her work, to something; and, this Land, to nought.  
●ut, to prevent her purpose, MERCY cast  
Her arm about that angry Virgins waste▪  
Looked sadly on her; hung about her; kissed her,  
And (weeping in her bosom) said, Sweet Sister,  
I pray thee, do not thus impatient grow,  
Nor prosecute deserved Vengeance, so.  
Thou art most beautiful; sincerely just;  
Most perfectly upright in all thou dost;  
For which ●h●ne excellency, and perfection,  
I love thee with an excellent a●●ection.  
And though thou frownest; yet thy frownings be  
So lovely, that I cannot part from thee.  
What though some Worldlings offer thee disgraces▪  
Sh●ll they (Sweet heart) make loathed my embraces?  
Shall thou, and I, (who nearer are then twins)  
Fall out, o● be divorced by their sins?  
Oh never l●t it said, or mutt red be,  
That we in any thing can disagree.  
For what's more lo●ely, or more sweet than thi●,  
That we each other may embrace and kiss?  
And by our mutual workings, and agreings,  
Bri●g all God's Creatures to their perfect beings.  
Believe me (Dear) Heaven doth not comprehend  
That pleasure, which this pleasure doth transcend:  
Nor is our Father better pleased in us,  
Then when he sees our arms emwined, thus.  
For should we jar, the world would be undone,  
And Heaven, and Earth, into a Chaos run.  
What profit can it bring, or what content,  
To see a Kingdom miserably rend,  
With manifold afflictions? what great good  
To us redoundeth by the death, or b●ood  
Of any màn? what honour can we have?  
What praise, from those that in the silent gra●e  
Lie raked up in ruins dead and rotten?  
Or in the Land where all things are forgotten?  
Seek not thy Glory by their Overthrow,  
That are pursued by too strong a F●e,  
And overmatched already; think upon  
The powerful hate of that malicious One.  
Remember they were f●amed of the dust;  
And that to Cl●y again return they must.  
When they are dead they pass away for ever,  
Even as that vapour which returneth never.  
Oh; make them not the Butt of thy displeasure,  
Nor give them of God's wrath the fullest measure.  
I grant this Realm is sinful; But, what hath  
That Realm, or people equalling thy wrath?  
'tis honourable, when we stoop below  
Ourselves; that love or favour we may show▪  
Or to correct, with purpose to amend:  
But if with such we Foe-like should contend▪  
It would appear, as if some Empery  
Did arm itself, to combat with a Fly.  
When we correction, or forgiveness deign,  
We may correct them, or forgive again:  
But in destroying quite, ourselves we wound,  
And to our Infiniteness, set a bound;  
For JUSTICE neither MERCY can have pl●ce▪  
In subjects, which we totally deface.  
We must not seek for purity divine  
In dust and ashes; till we first refine  
From earthly dross the gold that we desire,  
By using of the Bellowes and the Fire.  
For till we purge it, what (alas) is good,  
Or what can holy be in Flesh and Blood?  
Who looks that Figs on Thistles should be borne,  
●r that sweet Grapes should grow upon a Thorn?  
It cannot be. As therefore heretofore  
God promised, (that he would never more  
Contend with man) let us resolve the same;  
And by some other means, their wildness tam●.  
Keep, yet a while, this Army where it is▪  
And let us try to mend what is amiss,  
(As erst we did) by sending jointly thither,  
Our Favours, and Corrections, both together:  
And if they profit not, there is a Day  
In which thine Indignation shall have way.  
As when a Father, who, in heat of wrath  
To give a son correction purposed hath,  
Enraged is, until his lovely wife  
Doth interpo●e herself with friendly strife;  
But (pleased in the sweetness of her speech,  
Who to forgive the Child doth him beseech)  
Doth lay aside his whole displeasure, then,  
And turn his anger into smiles again;  
So, JUSTICE was by MERCY wrought upon:  
And she that would with so much haste be gone,  
Forgot her speed; Her loving Sister eyed  
With calmer looks; and thus to her replied.  
Thou, and thy charm have prevailed upon me,  
And to abate mine anger thou hast won me.  
I ●herefore will not cast my plagues on all,  
But on worst Livers, only, let them fall.  
Nay, nay, quoth MERCY, thou must favour show  
To most of them, or thou wilt overthrow  
The laws of Destiny; and crossed will be  
What God did from eternity decree.  
For, some of these have not fulfilled yet  
Their sins, nor made their number up complete.  
Some, that are wand'ring in the ways of folly,  
Shall be regenerated, and made holy.  
Of them some have morality, that may  
Be helpful to God's children, in their way;  
Some, must be left, as were the Cana'nites,  
To exercise the faithful Isr'elites;  
Yea some, have in their loins a generation  
Unborn, which must make up the blessed Nation.  
And till that seed bud forth, those trees must s●and,  
Although they grow but to annoy the Land.  
It seems (quoth JUSTICE) I must then abide,  
(However they offend) unsatisfied.  
Unsatisfied (said MERCY) Is it that,  
Sweet Sister, which your zeal hath aimed at?  
Then, look you there. And with that word, her eye  
She pla●'d on him, who sits in Majesty  
At God's right hand. Behold that Lamb (quoth she)  
By him thou fully satisfied shalt be.  
He poor was made, that He their debt might pay;  
He base became, to take their shame away;  
He entered bond, their freedom to procure;  
He dangers tried, their safeties to assure;  
He scorned was, their honour to advance;  
He seemed a fool, to help their ignorance;  
He sin was made, their errors to conceal;  
He wounded was, that he th●ir wounds might heal;  
He thirsted, that their thirst might have an end;  
He wept, that joy their sorrow might attend;  
He lost his blood, that they their blood might save;  
He died, that they eternal life might have.  
Nor canst thou any for their sins condemn,  
(Since he hath over-paid the price for them)  
If by partic'lar faith they shall apply  
That pardon, which he granteth generally.  
And lest to that whole Kingdom thou deny it,  
For want of application, I apply it.  
Why then (said JUSTICE) I may quite dismiss  
This host of Plagues whi●h here assembled is.  
Not so, replied MERCY: For no curse  
Is greater, n●r is any mischief worse  
Than want of due correction: And if I  
Shoul● yield to that, it were not Clemency,  
But cruel dealing; and my love no other  
Than is the kindness of that cockling m●ther,  
Who spares the rod (out of her pure affection)  
And sends unto the Gallows for correction:  
As if she thought her children apt for learning,  
If they could take a hanging for a warning▪  
I sleme to cr●sse thy workings, and thou mine,  
To those that n●●ther know my ways, nor thi●e:  
But, is the motions in a Clock do tend  
And move together to one purposed end,  
Although their wheels contrary courses go●,  
And force the even balance to and f●o.  
Even so, although it may to some appear,  
That our proceedings much repugnant are;  
Yet in our disagreings, we agree,  
And helpful to our chief design they be▪  
We therefore, from God's A●my will select  
One Regiment, this people to correct.  
Not his that is the General: for, he  
Resisteth us if he prevailing be.  
Nor Famine; For, (unless permit we shall  
That she devour, until we starve up all)  
She most unequally consumes the poor,  
And makes the rich to be enriched more.  
Nor will we send the Sword; for, that makes way  
For every plague to follow; yea, doth lay  
All open to confusion; and bestows  
The power of God oft times upon his foes.  
But, we to punish them, will send from hence,  
The dreadful, and impartial PESTILENCE.  
For, she doth neither Ri●h, nor Poor prefer;  
The foolish, and the wise, are one to her:  
Nor eloquence, nor beauty, nor complexion,  
Prevails wi●h her; Nor Hatred, nor Affection.  
S●e seizeth All alike; she visiteth  
The Palace, as the Cottage; and with death,  
Or else with sickness, strikes at each degree,  
Unless our Supersedeas, granted be.  
By means of her, in any State, or City,  
Thou mayst avenge, and I may show my pity  
With little noise; and both at once, fulfil  
Our wishes, and accomplish all our will.  
For, where a noisome we●d is seen to sprout,  
She shall, at thy appointment, weed it out.  
Or if a plant, or bud, or flower we see,  
That's ripe for Heaven, and may impaired be  
By standing longer; we the same will gather,  
To m●ke a precious Posy for our Father.  
And, as t●ou hast thy purpose, by their fall.  
Or smart, whom she or wound, or slaughter shall:  
Right so have I: For, if they wicked are  
Whom she removes; th● better sh●ll they fare,  
Whose Conversations truly honest be;  
And from oppression live the longer free.  
If righteous men this judgements ●rey become,  
It is appointed to secure them from  
Some greater Plague, which must (perhaps) be sent  
To scourge this Kingdom, ere it will repent;  
Or (peradventure) that my hand may take them  
From Earth, the Citizens of Heaven to make them:  
And some, who never e●se on God had thought,  
Shall, (by her whip) unto his love be brought.  
This pleased well, and IVSTIC● did agree  
With MERCY, that it should allowed be:  
And, for the swift fulfilling of their mind,  
The PESTILENCE, by warrant, was assigned  
Great Briton to invade; and limited  
Where to begin the Plague; how far to spread;  
How many she should wound; how many slay;  
How many grieve; how many fright away;  
How long abide; and when her term was done,  
On what conditions (then) she must be gone.  
Moreover lest her stroke should not amend u●,  
God's Host of Plagues had warrant to attend us;  
That if the Pestilence could not prevail,  
Another might our wicked Land assail;  
And then another, till we did repent,  
Or were consumed in our chastisement.  
The Prince of Darkness, (though he could not gain  
Permission, fully to unloose his Chain)  
His usual power obtained to work despite  
On some offenders, and to use the sleight  
Of Lying-wonders: or by strong temptation  
To seize upon the Sons of Reprobation:  
Yea many times to buffet (for correction)  
Even those that have the seals of God's election.  
Dear●h was commanded, that (to make us fear  
A Scarceness●) she should scatter here, and the●e,  
A Flood, or Tempest; and at sometime bring  
A droughty Sum●er, or a frosty Spring,  
Or Meldewes, to remember us, from whom  
The blessings of a plenteous year do come.  
War, (who had quite forgotten us almost)  
Enjoined was to sit upon our Coast;  
To sail about our Shore, to view our Forts,  
To visit all our Havens, and our Ports:  
And with her dreadful sounds, to rouse and keep  
This Kingdom, f●om securities dead sleep.  
But was commanded, not to seize a hoof  
Of what w●s ours, till God hath made a proof  
How mollified our stony hearts will be;  
What fruits of true repentance he shall see;  
What change will be effected in this Land,  
By his correcting us with his own hand;  
And what oblations of true thanks, and love,  
We render will upon this Plagues remove.  
Wherein, if we do fail his expectation,  
We shall be made a miserable Nation.  
The Sea that now doth close us, like a wall,  
Shall be a Sea o● terror; and it shall  
Let in our foes upon us, or with ●louds  
O'erflow our borders, and devour our goods.  
Our wealthy Traffics, and that foreign Trade,  
(Whereby so proud, and wanton we are made)  
Cut off shall be, and fail in every Coast.  
Our numerous Fleets (whereof so much we boast,  
(And, in whole power and multitude, I fear  
Ou● trust, and hopes too much reposed are)  
By Storms, and Piracies, that shall pursue them,  
Or want of means, and trading to renew them,  
Shall waste away unheeded; till we see  
Our ha●mes beyond our means of curing be.  
Our House's shall by strangers be possessed;  
Our goodly Temples, which, (as yet) are blessed  
With God's true worship, shall be razed, or burned,  
Or into dens of thievery be turned.  
Throughout those champain fields, & forests, where  
We hunted for our pleasure; we by Fear  
Shall hunted be: and made a prey for them  
Whom we (perhaps) did most of all contemn.  
Our People, (on whose numbers we presume)  
Shall by degrees be less●ned, and consume.  
Our Nation (late renowned through the World)  
Shall be valued, as old rubbish, hu●l●d  
In some by-corner, and quite round about us  
Our Foes, our Neighbours, & our Friends shall flout us.  
O●r Peace, sh●ll make us but effeminate.  
Our Riches, and our plentiful estate,  
Shall but enrich our enemies; and we  
(That of our King so glad, and hopeful be)  
Shall (for our sins, perchance) be quite deprived  
O● those great comforts, which we have conceived.  
For, e●●he● God may give an ●ll success  
To his be●t Counsels, for our frowardness;  
Or leave us some dist●ustings in our heart,  
To make us censure in an evil pa●t  
His gracious purposes; or give a power  
To some ill-willers of his peace, and our,  
To sow the seeds of Discord, and divide  
Our heart●, which now so lovingly are tied:  
Or let some Politician wo●ke upon  
His Goodness; and so cunningly go on,  
That he shall n●ver find, how he, and his  
Are injured, till all things are amiss:  
Which God forbid; yea, grant (O Lord) that I  
In these su●posals may not prophesy;  
As (out of doubt I shall) if any sin  
(That may procure it) we continue in.  
Yea, though our Projects may a while possess  
Our hearts with flattering hopes of good success;  
Though in affairs of War, and in our Fights  
We thrive a while, as did the Benj●mites;  
Although a league with Baalam we began;  
And ●erodach the son of Baladan  
Had sent us presents; and though he shall seem  
To have our health and welfare in esteem;  
Though to his Lords the treasures we declare,  
Which in God's Temple here among us are:  
Yea, though we g●ve those holy things, to buy  
His love, and Babylonish amity:  
It should but linger us along, till they  
(Who seek our overthrow) their snares do lay▪  
Until they have enlarged their growing powers,  
And by their Policy, befooled ours;  
Or, till our sins, or our securities  
Have ma●e us objects for their Tyrannies,  
And, there enthralled us, where long since were hung  
On willow trees, untuned, and unstrung,  
The Harps of Zion; and where Men contemn  
The heavenly Sonnets of jerusalem.  
Even this shall be our lot, and worse than this,  
If we continue still to do amiss,  
Or bring not forth the fruits of Penitence,  
When God hath scourged us by the Pestilence.  
But, if that stir us to repenting shall,  
He will not only back again recall  
That raging Plague, to which he gave such power  
Within our peopled Cities to devour:  
But, he will also on this Realm bestow  
New benefits, for entertaining so,  
With lowliness, his fatherly correction;  
And yielding him our filial affection.  
Then, every one beneath his Vine shall si●  
Without disturbance; and with pleasure eat  
The profit of his labours. Men shall go  
In ●afety through ●he Kingdom, to, and fro.  
Their Lands they shall enjoy in peace; and wear  
The warmest fleeces, that their flocks do bear.  
No sons of Belial, shall from them divert  
Their Prince's favour (in the smallest part)  
Nor shall Seditions Lovers draw from him  
Their loyalties, by misinforming them;  
But God that blessed union shall maintain,  
Which ought 'twixt King and People to remains.  
He, then, will multiply the fruits increase;  
Preserve our plenty, sanctify our peace:  
And guide by Land and Sea, our preparations  
Of lawful war, to seize upon those Nations  
That are our foes, and his. Which, that He may  
Vouchsafe unto us; let us every day  
Produce of thankfulness some new effect:  
Let us observe (with every due respect)  
The progress of that Plague sent lately hither;  
How CLEMENCY & JUSTICE came together;  
Relating to each other what we saw  
To kindle love, or keep our souls in awe;  
And so record it, that (should we be rotten)  
It may be still preserved unforgotten.  
For, that we might his honour forth declare,  
We bo●h created, and preserved were.  
To such a purpose, I do thus employ  
That scorned Faculty, which I enjoy;  
And (for the compa●●ing of my intention)  
Have offered up the best of my invention;  
And what that is (to those, who do regard  
Such pains) the following Cantos have declared  
Behold (O Lord) my purposes from heaven,  
Accept of me the gift that thou hast given.  
Permit not those, who spite or malice me,  
To interrupt my M●se in praising t●ee.  
Let none of those, who find that I neglect  
The way to wealth, which th●y ●oo much affect,  
Conceive, that I my Time have spent in vain,  
Because their Studies yield them greater gain;  
Let them perceive, though this endeavour brings  
Nor Riches, Honours, nor esteem of Kings;  
But rather wastes my Fortunes, and doth more  
Increase my charge, and troubles, than before;  
Let them (I say) conceive, and also know,  
That I am highly pleased, it should be so;  
And would not change the blessing of my Fate  
With those, whom they do hold more fortunate.  
And let not that, which I have here comprised▪  
Become (through my unworthiness) despised;  
But grant it such a moderate respect,  
Th●t I may see my labours take effect  
For their encouragements, who shall apply  
To such goode●ds, their gift of Poesy;  
And let all those, who shall peruse my Story▪  
Receive some profit, and give thee, the glory.   

The second Canto.  

Our Muse defends her lowly style;  
And (having flown aside a while)  
Tells, how the Plague first entered here▪  
What means to stay it practised were.  
Some vulgar Tenets are disputed;  
Some rectified, some refuted.  
She from the Nature, and the Cause,  
Of that Disease, conclusions draws;  
Declareth how it runs and creeps,  
And what uncertain paths it keeps:  
How long strict orders useful stood;  
The fruit of Christian neighbourhood;  
And many other things, betwixt  
These mentioned, are intermixed.  
She showeth (also) means assured  
By which, this mischief may be cured;  
How to apply that means; how those  
Who use it, should themselves compose;  
How violent the Plague did grow;  
Who from it might, or might not go;  
How much 'twas feared; how men fled;  
How ill, in flying, many sped;  
And lastly (as occasion moves)  
She grieves, she counsels, and reproves.   
LEt no fantastic Reader now condemn  
Out homely Muse, for stooping u●to them,  
In plain expressions, and in words, that show  
We love not, in affected paths, to go.  
For, to be understood, is language used;  
And speech to other ends as much abused▪  
Lines, therefore, overdarke, or over-trimmed,  
Are like a Picture with a Visor limned;  
Or like Poma●ders of a curious sent,  
Within a painted Box that hath no vent;  
Or like Peach-kernels, which, (to get them forth)  
Require more cracking, than the fruit is worth.  
Let no man guess, my Measures framed be,  
That wiser men, my little wit may see;  
Or that I do not hold the matter good,  
Which is not more admired then understood:  
For, chiefly, such a Subject I desire,  
And such a plain Expression, to acquire,  
That every one my meaning may discern;  
And they be taught, that have most need to learn.  
It is the useful matter of my Rhymes  
Shall make them live. Wo●ds alter as the Times:  
And soon ●heir fantastic Rhetoric's,  
Who trim their Poesies with schooleboy-tricks.  
That, which this age affects, as grave, and wise,  
Th● following generation may despise.  
Green●s phrase, and folly's language were in fashion,  
And had among the wits much commendation;  
But now, another garb of speech, with us  
Is pri●'d; and thei●s is thought ridiculous;  
As ours (perchance) will be, when Time (who changeth  
Things changea●l●) the present phrase estrangeth.  
Let no m●n therefore dream, I will bestow  
My precious Time in what will vary so;  
Since that, which, with most ease I shall produce,  
May have (for aught I know) the longest use.  
Let no man think, I'll rack my memory  
For pen and-inkehorne-termes, to finifie  
My blunt invention; trimming it, as they  
Who make rich clothes but for Saint George his day;  
When they may be●ter cheap a suit provide,  
To fit that feast, and many days beside.  
Nor l●t unlearned Censurers suppose  
Our Muse a course unwarrantable ●oes,  
In framing Objects representative,  
Which may imprint▪ or in the soul revive,  
True feelings of that wrath or love, which we  
In God almighty, by Faith's eyes do see.  
For, though his holy Spirit, when he will,  
Can easily the soule● of mortals fill  
With heavenly knowledges, by ways unseen;  
Yet, he himself hath sometime pleased been  
By outward objects to employ the senses,  
In reaching to the soul some excellencies  
Concealed before. Yea, many times he suits  
His Deity in our poor attributes;  
And (that our weakness he may work upon)  
Our usual speech, and passions, he puts on▪  
If so; then we, that have no other way  
Our hidden apprehensions to convey  
From Man to Man, but by the qu●int creation  
Of some Ideas in our contemplation;  
That so the senses may become inclined  
To give some information to the mind:  
Then we (I say) whose fluid memories  
Would else let go our airy fantasies,  
May such a liberty with warrant use.  
And I (no doubt) myself may well excuse,  
If other while things bodiless I cloth  
With mortal bodies; and do give them both  
Our speeches, and our gestures▪ Fo●, by this  
A dull affection often quickened is.  
Nor thus to do, are Poets only moved  
But, these are strains Prophetical, approved.  
To say, that God is angry; or that he  
Will of our wickedness avenged be;  
Moves little: but, to paint his fury, so  
That Men the dreadfulness thereof may know,  
As if they s●w it: or his love to make  
So pleading of our cause, as if it spoke  
(Within our hearing) with such earnestness,  
As friends would plead for friends in their distress●;  
Doth much incite the Reader to attention,  
And rouseth up the dullest apprehension.  
Me thinks, I do, (as with mine eye) behold  
The real sight of all that I have told:  
Yea, that which I myself described here,  
Doth touch mine heart with re●ere●ce, and fear.  
I have perpetual Visions of that rout  
Of Plagues, and judgements, which do rove about  
To punish us. And, from that dreadful host  
I see (me thinks) how to invade our Coast,  
The Plague marched hither, like a Regiment  
That is for services of moment sent  
From some great Army. And, when I can bend  
My troubled spirits truly to attend  
God's judgements, and his Mercies, as they go  
Their daily progress; I can reach unto  
Much pleasing thoughts; and oftentimes foresee,  
What his intents, and their even●● will be:  
For, when Man's heart is filled with his Fear,  
The secrets of the Lord to him appear.  
Oh! what rich treasures doth my soul possess,  
When I do contemplate the blessedness,  
The Wisdom▪ and the Way of God most high?  
How far above myself raised up am I?  
How little want I, ●ha● the world can give?  
What heights ascend I? what huge depths I dive?  
How much contemn I dangers here below?  
How c●rtaine of God's favours can I grow?  
And wi●h what sweetness is my breast inspired,  
When (by the heat of Contemplation fired)  
I sit locked up within a lonely room,  
Whe●e nothing to disturb my thoughts may come;  
And where may enter neither sight, nor Notion  
Of any thing, but what may ●●irre Devotion?  
Sure, were it not, that I am clothed about  
With flesh, that doth compel me to come out;  
Or, knew I not the Christian Man's estate  
Extended ●urther, t●en to contemplate;  
Or saw not them unthankfully precise,  
Who Gods external blessings quite despise;  
Or feared I not▪ I never should have union  
With God, unless I were in some communion  
Of Saints on earth; whom I might sharers make  
Of those sweet thoughts of him, which I partake;  
Or, if I doubted not, I might with Lot,  
Upon the daughters of my blain begot,  
Commit some spiritual incest, had I none  
To spend the seed of my full Soul upon:  
Or, if I found it not unnatural,  
To leap out of the world, till God did call;  
And that fantastic ways of selfe-contenting  
Are but the certain paths to selfe-tormenting;  
If all these things I knew not; I could bide  
Shut up, until my flesh we●e Mummy-sied;  
And (though the world should woe me) would disd●in  
(For ever) to unclose my door again.  
For though (when I come forth) I lose again  
My ●aptures; and have thoughts like other men;  
Because my natural frailties, and the fog  
Of earthly Vanities, my soul doth clog:  
Yea, though I can as hardly keep those firings  
Unquenched abroad, which are (in my retire  
Inflamed in me;) as a naked Man  
Retain that heat upon a ●ountaine can,  
Which in a close warm chamber he retaineth:  
Ye● (for my comfort) somewhat still remaineth:  
And in my recollections I possess  
More happiness, than I can well express.  
I view contentments, which I cannot measure;  
I have some tastings of immortal pleasure;  
I g●immerings have of hid●en mysteries;  
My ●ou●e on glorious things doth fix her eyes:  
And though some whited walls (who did attempt  
To bring my Muse and Me, unto contempt)  
Endeavour still (with shows of Piety)  
My best-approved pains to v●l●fie:  
I can with scorn of their base envy, raise  
My thoughts above their ignorant dispraise:  
And pity their dull sottishness, who prise  
Their shadows better, than realities.  
For I have searched their folly, and espied  
That they have drowned their wisdom in their prid●▪  
Yea, by their partial dealings, I now see  
They judge men's merits, as their titles be:  
And I have gotten those brave things in chase,  
That shall advantage me, by my disgrace.  
When, therefore, by myself I am enclosed,  
And for an heavn'ly rapture, well disposed;  
I do not grudge mine enemies to spew  
Their flanders on my name; or to pursue  
My labours with reproach; nor prey to make  
On all my fortunes: But all well can take.  
I do not then repine, although I see  
That Fools ennobled, Knaves enriched be,  
And honest men unheeded: but I bide  
As pleased, as I am at Whitsuntide,  
To see fair Nymphs in Country Towns rejected,  
And sluttish Milkmaids by the Clowns elected  
For Ladies of the May. And if I chance  
Where any of those Hobby horses prance;  
I can in sport, or courtesy, bestow  
Those terms upon them, which I do not owe.  
For when on Contemplation's wings I fly,  
I then o'erlook the highest Vanity.  
I see how base those fooleries do● show,  
Which are admired, while I creep below:  
And by the brightness of a twofold light  
(Re●●ecting from God's word to clear my sight)  
Faith's objects to her eyes, much plainer are,  
Then those which to my outward ●●ght appear.  
My towering Soul is winged up, as if  
She over-flew the top of Tenariffe,  
Or some far higher Mountain; where we may  
All actions of this lower World survey.  
I am above the touch of malice borne;  
I am beyond the reach of ●v'ry scorn;  
And could— But what mean I? this seems a ●●rai●  
Impertinent▪ Sweet Muse, come down again;  
Soare not so high. For in these lofty flights  
The Fools below, do think our Eagles, Kites.  
The world, to flout such Raptures now is prone;  
I will enjoy them (therefore) al● alone:  
Of their unhallowed censuring take heed,  
And in my former purpose, thus proceed:  
When (as you heard before) the Court of Heaven  
Commission to the Pestilence had given  
To scourge our sins, and signed her directions▪  
She took up all her boxes of Infections,  
Her Carbuncles, her Sores, her Spots, her Blains,  
And every other thing which appertains  
To her contagious practices; and all  
Her followers she did about her call;  
Appoint them to their places, and their times,  
D●rect them to the Persons, and the Crimes  
They should correct, and how they should advance  
Her main Designment in each circumstance.  
Then, on she marched; not as doth a Foe  
Proclaiming War, before he strikes the blow;  
But like an Enemy, who doth surprise  
Upon the fi●st advantage he espies.  
For (passing through the streets of many a Town  
Disguised like a Fever) she, (unknown)  
Stole into London; and did lurk about  
The well filled Suburbs; spreading there (no doubt)  
Infection unperceived, in many a place  
Before the blea●e eyed Searchers, knew her face;  
And since they knew her, they have bribed been  
A thous●nd times, to let h●r pass unseen.  
But at the length, she was discovered at  
A Frenchman's house without the B●shopsgate.  
To intimate (perhaps) that such as be  
Our spiritual Wats●men, should the more foresee  
That they with discipline made strong the Ward,  
Which God appointed hath for them to g●ard;  
And chiefly, at this present, to have care,  
Lest now, while we, and France united are  
In bodily commerce; they bring unto us  
Those Plagues which may eternally undo us.  
For, such like Pestilences soon begin;  
And (ere we be aware) will enter in,  
Unless our Bishops, both betimes, and late,  
Be diligent and watchful at their Gate.  
As soon, as e'er the Women-spyes descried,  
This Foe about the City to reside;  
There was a loud Alarm. The Countrymen  
Began to wish themselves at home again.  
The Citizens were generally appalled;  
The Senators themselves to Counsel called;  
And all (who might advise in such a case)  
Assembled in their Common meeting place;  
Where, what discretion publicly was used;  
What was admitted of, and what refused;  
What policies, and stratagems invented;  
That mischiefs, coming on, might be prevented,  
I cannot say: For I had never wit,  
Nor wealth enough, to sit in Counsel, yet.  
B●● if to judge of things it lawful were  
By ●hei● events; the propositions there  
Were such as these. Most thought the surest play  
To save their persons, was, to run away;  
But lest some higher power might then forbid it,  
They did not publish that, b●fore they did it.  
Some urged, that the Scav●nger should keep  
The s●reet● more clean, and oft the channel sweep;  
Some thought it fit, (and these no harm did think)  
That every morning we should eat, and drink.  
Some (to allay the heat) did hold it meet  
To sprinkle water often in the street.  
Some did a little further nat'●allize,  
And these unto the Air would sacrifice  
(In evening fires) pure Frankincense or Myrrh,  
Sweet herbs, or odorif'rous juniper;  
Or (for default of those) Pitch, Rosin, Tar▪  
And such perfumings as less costly are.  
For if the Heart and Liver of a Fish  
(Burnt by yo●ng Tobit in a Chafind●●h)  
A Spirit from his chamber could expel▪  
They hoped these might purge ill airs, as well:  
Some others (not contented herewithal)  
Did into consultation also call  
The Priest's of Ae●culapius, and Apollo;  
And held it fit their grave advice to follow:  
Nor without cause. For, from the wise Physician  
We best sha●l know this Enemy's condition.  
And some there were of those, who did advise  
Not only to assume those remedies  
Which Art prescribed▪ but also therewithal  
Observed what was Metaphysical.  
Yea, some sincerely, and religiously  
Upon the soul's infection had an eye,  
As well as on the bo●ies: and th●se went  
The surest way that sickness to prevent.  
But there were others, who derided these,  
And talked heath'nish●y of this disease.  
They prated much of Humours, Inclinations▪  
Conjunction, planetary Constellations;  
Of natural causes, unbelieved fictions;  
Impostures, Fables, and mere contradictions  
In th●t Philosophy, which they profess:  
Which filled men's minds with much unsettledness.  
Yet in their disagreings, they agreed  
On that which might their common profit breed▪  
One had a rare Perfume of special note;  
Another had a precious Antidote,  
Which at Constantinople had been tried  
When there two thousand on a day have died.  
A third, preferted a Mixture in a bag,  
Of whose large virtues he did largely brag,  
And said, the same they do in Plague times, wear  
At Rome, (and so I think when he was there.)  
A fourth, by Diets, safety did assure.  
A fifth, by Drinks, the Pestilence would cure.  
A sixth of Cordials, and Elixirs prates;  
And some of Treacles, and of Mithridates.  
To offer up a portion of the blood  
(To save the rest) for some, it seemed good.  
For other some to purge: for all to take  
Such means as might their purses heavy make.  
They to the rich prescribed Preservatives  
On costly terms: and, to prolong the lives  
Of poorer men, their consciences abated  
The value much: For, health, to them was rated  
At some few handfuls of that herb or grass,  
Which to be gotten▪ for the gathering was.  
This being known, the Senators dismiss  
Those men; and by advice it ordered is,  
That some Instructions shall be published,  
To further what was gravely counselled.  
Moreover, that their discipline might carry  
Some likeness to proceedings military,  
A band of Ha●be●●s, mustered was, to guard  
The people from the Plague, in every Ward.  
And, if they found, by serious inquisition,  
(Or, had but any probable suspicion)  
Where lodged it was (although but for a night)  
That Host, exiled was from public sight;  
Close prisoner him they kept bo●h night and day,  
As one that els● their City might betray.  
And, to compel that his unwelcome Guest  
Should keep within; his doo●e was crossed, and blest:  
And many Watchmen, strengthened by command,  
Did round about his dwelling, armed stand.  
I do not thus express, or mention this,  
As if I thought those Orders were amiss:  
But, that I might, hereby, the better show  
What miseries, attended on this Foe;  
And, that this Malady, on us did ce●ze,  
With circumstances, worse than the Disease.  
My Muse inspires not me so foolishly,  
That I all natural causes do deny.  
I do not think, but to this Pestilence,  
The Constellations, by their influence  
Might somewhat add: and that corrupted air,  
Might help our healthy being to impair.  
I hold, that Diets, Meats, Complexions, Passions,  
With such as these, and all their mitigations,  
May help or hinder much in such diseases  
As we endeavour shall; and as God pleases.  
Nor do I flout the wisdom, or the pain  
Of those who s●ught this mischief to restrain:  
Nor blame I their much diligence, or care;  
But praise it; and could wish it doubled were;  
W●●h som● such observations, as would make  
Their practices, the mor● success to t●ke;  
And that their natural means had hallowed been,  
With so much Fait●, and penitence▪ for sin,  
As might hav● brought more works of Piety,  
To sanctify their outward Poluy  
Fo● those dull N●turalists, who think, this Foe,  
Doth by mere natural causes▪ come o● go,  
Are much deceived▪ Yea, in their heart's, they say,  
There is no God, how ●ver gl●ze they may:  
And as their cogitation are unholy,  
So is their seeming wisdom▪ sottish folly.  
They are the base Conjunctions, and Aspects  
Of Sin, that this our Climate, so infects;  
And neither Constellations, nor the Wether:  
For, than we had been po●s'ned all together,  
By this Contagion; and had breathed the longer  
Or shorter while, as nature had been stronger,  
Or weaker in us Nothing had been free,  
But birds and beasts had died as well a● we;  
And this Disease had seized on every Creature  
Or more or less, as it partakes our nature:  
It was no noisome Air, no ●ewre, or Stink,  
Which brought this Death, as most among us think,  
For, then those places where ill smells abound,  
Had more infectious at that time been found,  
Then we perceive they were; yea, this Disease,  
On every person delicate, would seize,  
Without exception. And where Savours ill  
Still bide, the Plague should there continue still:  
Then, if they brought the same, they sure feed it,  
And, keep it always there, as well as breed it.  
Which God ●orbid; and ●each us to discern  
His providence, and what thereby to learn.  
Vain thoughts have also they, who credit can  
That, this Infirmity, at first, began,  
By means of populousness. For, were it so;  
Some Courts and Allies, many years ago,  
Had been infected: And, th●se places, where  
Thronged up together, greatest numbers are;  
From Visitation, had not free remained,  
When open Streets, and Borroughs have complained▪  
And, let them not believe their fallacy,  
Because great Cities, have most frequently,  
This fearful Sickness, or, afflicted be,  
When little Towns and Villages, are free.  
For, as there is in great and popular places,  
More sin, and more abundance of God's graces:  
So, it is just▪ that thither should be sent  
The greater measure of his Chastisement,  
That so, their eminence, might show abroad,  
As well the justice, as the Love of God;  
Whose judgements being laid on Towns obscure,  
Might small respect, and less effect procure.  
As ignorant as these, I reckon those,  
Who this Disease, infectious do suppose  
To every one: and, them, who credit not  
That Sickness, by infection may be got:  
For, these opinions can have no defence;  
Since both will false be found, in common sense.  
For, if we say, this Plague infects not any,  
How cometh it, we daily see so many  
Consumed beneath one roof in little space?  
How comes it, that it creeps from place to place,  
So orderly, as oftentimes we see,  
In some close Lane o● Street? How may it be  
That twenty Villages (far distant from  
Infected Places) tainted should become  
Within some few days after their arriving  
Who in contageous places had their living?  
None being there, before they came, infected,  
Nor any such disease nearehand suspected?  
How comes all this, unless the Malady,  
Hath in itself, as had the Leprosy,  
A spreading Nature, and envenomed that  
Which of her poison can participate?  
Believe it; as the Violet, or Rose,  
(With pure and pleasing sweetness) where it grow●s  
Perfumes the Air, and sendeth Odours out,  
Which keep a certain distance thereabout;  
And, more or less, affect the Passers-by,  
As they have more or less capacity  
In smelling them; Or, as the calmed air,  
Is either, more or less, corrupt or fair:  
Right so, this Plague, even naturally affects  
A space of Air about it; and infects,  
(At such or such a distance) every one,  
As he hath weaknesses, to work upon:  
Unless, that her malignity be stayed  
By natural means, or pour Divine alaid.  
And yet, a false Position make they shall  
Who thence infer, the Plague infecteth all,  
Who breathe her tainted Air. For, how did they  
Escape it ●hen, who long time, night and day  
In places of infection were detained?  
And in the bosom of this Pest●emain'd ●emain'd,  
Even whe●e they often had their ears and eyes,  
Affronted, by the sad aspect, and cries,  
Of Death and Dying men? How scaped he  
That in the Church, obliged was to be  
Among infectious people; and to speak  
Till tired were his lungs; and spirits weak?  
Even when the peoples, thronging, and their heat  
Did vapour up their breathe, and their sweat  
For him to swallow? What preserved the Clerks,  
The Sextens, Searchers, Keepers, and those Sharks,  
The shameless Bearers? (who were nigh become,  
A rout too bad, to pick out hangmen, from?)  
How scap't the Surgeon, that oft puts his head  
Within the steam of an Infectious bed▪  
And, every day doth handle, search, and dress,  
Those Biles, that overflow with rottenness?  
Or (which is more) how scaped those Babes, the Pest,  
That were not only weak, but sucked the breast  
Of Mother's deadly sick, when they did wear  
Those noisome Blains, that most infectious are?  
This often chanceth. Yea, this hath been seen  
When on the ve●y breast, the sore hath been.  
Nay, I have heard (by credible relation)  
That near to Stra●ford-bow, this Visitation,  
A little Infant was preserved alive,  
Who sucked on the dying breasts of five.  
How this may be I know not; If I shall  
Conclude with some, this Plague hath power on al●  
Nor can I find a reason how it stinted,  
Or how our total ruin was prevented.  
For, when it was at height; and when appeared,  
Most causes, that Infection should be feared;  
Then, no man was confined, as before:  
No Bill, or Cross, was fixed on any door;  
We visited the Sick; we shunned neither  
The place nor person; but met all together.  
Yet then, and (let us mark it) not till then,  
This Plague, her fury did abate again;  
And constantly abate, though most refused  
To keep such Orders, as at first were used.  
Which manifest●th well, that (howsoe'er  
Malignant in itself, the ●est appear)  
God hand restrains it; many a man protecting  
Immediately: some, mediately directing  
To such, or such a means of preservation,  
That they might honour him in their salvation▪  
And, as he striketh some, that men might fear  
His justice: So, he other some doth spare,  
That they might love his Mercies; and perceive  
That he can at his pleasure take, and leave.  
For, if God saved none; some Athe'st, would not  
Make doubt, perhaps, to publish that he could not;  
And, scarce one man would be so neighbourly,  
To help his brother in this malady.  
Which Charity to further (and to show  
How safely, men their Callings may pursue  
In every danger) we have had, this year,  
Of God's great Providence, fair token, here.  
For, 'tis observed, that he hath few destroyed  
Who were in this mortality employed  
About those Offices, which have to us  
(In common sense) appeared most dangerous.  
Few Sextons, and few Surgeons have miscarried,  
Who in their callings at this want have tarried.  
And of those Marketfolks▪ who at our need  
Brought in provisions, this weak place to feed,  
I cannot hear of one, who did become  
Infected; or, who brought infection home.  
Even in that Parish where I did abi●e;  
And where, nigh half a thousand, weekly died)  
Not one of all that number perished,  
That were the common Bearers of the Dead.  
But, though from midnight, till the break of day,  
They did infectious Carcases convey  
From sickly Dwellings, to those Pits of Death,  
Which breathed out a most contagious breath,  
With life and health, their service, God rewarded;  
Even though the most of them nought else regarded,  
But that base gain which might their want supply,  
Or feed them in some wicked vanity.  
How then, can we, that of this favour hear,  
From any lawful action fly through fear?  
Or doubt of God's protection, when we make  
A dangerous attempt, for conscience sake?  
And know, beside, that what we ●●rive to do,  
We are both called, and obliged unto?  
Moreover, since the latter sort here named,  
Are (for the greater part) in life defamed;  
Such, who their needful Offices abused;  
Such, who nor outward means, nor inward used;  
To keep their healths (but, grew the bolder in  
The practices of every kind of sin)  
Such, whom God's judgements stupefied more,  
And made far harder hearted, then before.  
Since those (I say) of such condition were,  
And yet preserved in their Callings, here:  
For what good use I pray can we suppose  
Those men were so preserved; but that those  
Who truly seek God's glory in their stay,  
Might have the more assurance in their way?  
And know, that if to such God please to give  
This mortal life, they shall much rather live;  
Or else (which is far better) if they die,  
Obtain a life, with immortality.  
Some Wiseman-woud-be, now, perhaps, will prate  
That this is Claphamnisme: And, that the State  
(In her good policies to stop the breach  
Of this great Plague) is wronged by what I teach?  
But, rather they injurious are to me  
Who so affirm; and vain their cavils be.  
For, though to show the power Divine the more,  
Our Muse declares, by what is gone before,  
That Gods own hand, our City did preserve,  
When we scarce Meres, or Order, did observe.  
Let no man gather thence, that we maintain,  
All Meanus▪ or Civil Orders to be vain.  
For, of self-murder that man guilty dies,  
Who, means of health doth wilfully despise.  
Yea, doubtless, there belongs a curse to them,  
That orderly proceedings do contemn.  
And, whereas we our Orders did transgress,  
It was necessity, not wilfulness,  
That u●ged it; because, our common woe,  
Did far●● beyond the power o● O●d●r, go.  
At rising of the ●loud we made a Bay;  
But, at the height, it carried all away.  
In humane Policy, we s●w no hope.  
But, as the stones and Timbers which do stop  
A Breach at first; when all is drowned o'er,  
Do nothing else, but make the waters roar:  
So, when our Sickness, and our Poverty,  
Had greater wants than we could well supply,  
Strict Orders did but more enrage our grief,  
And, hinder in accomplishing relief.  
Had every house been locked which we supposed  
To stand infected, few had been unclosed,  
Yea, our fi●st Orders had we still observed,  
The healthy Households would not half have served  
To keep the Sick. And who should then have heeded  
Our private cares? Or got us that we needed?  
As long as from each other, we refrained,  
We greater sorrows every day sustained:  
Yea, whilst for none, but for ou● selves we cared,  
Our brethren perished, and the worse we fared.  
This made us from our Policies appeal,  
And meet in Love, each others wounds to he●le.  
This, made us from our civil Orders fly,  
To make more practice of our Charity.  
And hereunto, perhaps, compelled were we,  
By mere necessity, to l●t us see  
Experiments, of that unmatched good,  
Which flowe●h from a Christian Neighbourhood▪  
And learn what public, and what pr●vate case  
It bringeth in a general Disease:  
And how it may a Commonwealth sustain  
When carnal Wisdom, and Self-love are vain▪  
O●, we perchance from vulgar helps were driven,  
Lest Overmuch assurance might be given  
To outward means: Or, lest we used them so,  
As if God's power were chained thereunto.  
O● else, it was permitted, to declare  
That fruitless all our best endeavours are.  
Without his blessing: That, no creatures have  
A Virtue to preserve till he will save:  
That, his immediate power must countermand,  
When any Plague hath got an upper hand:  
And, that, such Mercy shown in s●ch distress,  
Might bind us to the greater thankfulness.  
But, lest what here precedeth hath not shown  
My purpose fully; be it also known,  
That to restrain, or spur the PESTILENCE,  
There is both supernatural Providence  
And Causes natural. The first of these  
Can work without the later, if it please.  
The later cannot any thing effect,  
But, as the former shall the same direct.  
And, though in every sickness, thus it is,  
Yet, such hid properties are found in this,  
Such oppositions in the Natural Causes,  
Such knots, and riddles; that it much amazes  
The natural man: because he seldom finds  
(As he perceives in griefs of other kinds)  
The Causes and Effects agree together;  
For, there is much uncertainty in either.  
On some, this Plague doth steal insensibly,  
Their muddy nature, stirring secretly  
To their destruction. Some, it striketh so,  
As if a mortal hand had with a blow  
Arrested them; and on their flesh hath seen  
A palms impression, to appearance, been.  
One m●n is faint, weak, sickly, full of fear,  
And draws his breath where strongest infections are,  
Yet escapes with life. Another man is young,  
Light-hearted, healthy, stout, well-tempered, strong,  
And lives in wholesome air, yet gets a fit  
Of this Land Calenture, and dies of it.  
Some are tormented by it, till we s●e  
Their veins and sinews almost broken be,  
The very soul distracted, sense bereft,  
And scarce the smallest hope of scaping le●t,  
Yet soon recover. Othersome, again  
Fall suddenly; or feel so little pain  
When they are seized, that they breathless lie,  
ere any dying Symptoms, we ●spy.  
On some, an endless drowsiness doth creep●:  
Some others, cannot get one wink of sleep.  
This, useth every day preservatives,  
Yet dies: another taketh none, yet lives.  
Even thus uncertainly this Sickness plays;  
Spares, wounds, and killeth, many several ways.  
From this experience, let us not conclude,  
As many do among the multitude,  
Who misconceiving (to no small offence)  
The doctrine of Eternal Providence,  
(Who from the truth of sober knowledge wand'ring,  
And God's Decrees, and justice also slandering)  
Do so necessitate the Fate of man,  
That, whatsoever he endeavour can,  
His pains is lost; and that foredoomed, he must  
At this or that set moment turn to dust:  
And that no industry, no innocence,  
No wilful carelessness, or foul offence,  
N●r any humane actions helpful be  
To life or death, but merely God's De●ree.  
Even such there be. And, howsoever they  
Preach Faith, or Works, in show, yet, th●y denay  
The power of both; and secretly maintain,  
(By consequence at least) that means are vain.  
For, they affirm that every thing men do,  
They are by God predestinated to  
Before all worlds; So, that our power, or will,  
Affecteth; not effecteth good, or ill;  
And that we are by doom inevitable  
In every kind of action made unable.  
Which Tenet, seemeth rather to arise  
From those, who write of heathenish Destiny's,  
Then from a Christian. For, though true it be,  
That, God Almighty, all things doth foresee,  
And order so, and so dispose of things,  
That, to perfection his own work he brings,  
In spite of Satan, and of every deed  
That may from his malignant brood proceed:  
Yet, they have Actions naturally their own,  
Which God permits. He likewise hath bestown  
On us that are his children, grace, and powers,  
Good Actions to perform, which we call ours  
By God's free gift. Moreover, he doth please  
To promise bliss, or threaten plagues, for these,  
According to their natures; that each one  
May heed the be●ter, what is to be done:  
Be stirred up to put good works in use,  
Or else be left at last without excuse.  
For▪ though I am assured we possess,  
By Nature, no inherent Righteousness;  
I, naithelesse believe that every one  
(Whose being, first, from Adam's loins begun)  
Received since our Universal fall  
One Talon, at the least, to work withal,  
With so much power of working also, that  
We may and should with God cooperate.  
As Adam all men did of life deprive;  
Even so by Christ, were all men made alive:  
Yea, even as Moses did not let remain  
One hoof in Egypt which did appertain  
To Isr'ell; So believe I that not one▪  
Was left unransomed by Gods only Son:  
But that all through the sea of blood d●d come,  
As well those other who do wander from  
Truth's path in this life's wilderness; as they  
Who come within the Land of Promise may.  
And, though like him, who impudently, laid  
Injustice to his Master's charge, and said;  
He reaped where he sowed not, though, I say;  
There want not some among us, at this day,  
Who like to him, do most unthankfully  
This grace of God in JESUS CHRIST deny;  
(Affirming, that he some enjoins unto  
Much more, than he did give them power to)  
Our Maker unto every soul that lives,  
So much by virtue of Christ's Passion gives,  
That whosoever falleth, fal●s not by  
Another's, but his own iniquity;  
And, by his actual crimes, makes unforgiven  
That Debt original which was made even  
By his Redeemer, who, that, back will have,  
(If we abuse it) which at first he gave.  
Who e'er wants power to do what God doth bid,  
Lost in himself, that pow●e as Adam did:  
Yet, we that have it, neither had that power,  
No● keep it can, by any strength of our;  
But by his holy Spirit, who hath taught  
That path of life wherein to walk we ought.  
And, this is such a Mystery, that some  
Which think they s●e, are blind therein become▪  
Our guilty Souls and Bodies were bereft  
Of all good Faculties, and had not left  
So much as Will, much less the power to do  
What soul or Body's health conduced to.  
Their guilt Christ from them took; and by his might  
Depraved Nature so much sets to right,  
That unto every Soul, he gives the will  
Which Adam had, of choosing good or ill.  
And then both Life and Death, he doth propose  
Before them so, that either may be chose.  
To them, whom in his Church he doth afford  
To live past Childhood, He doth by his Word  
(And by no other means) this tender make.  
With Infants, and with Heathens, he may take  
Some other course. But, surely, when, or how  
He that effects; concerns not us to know.  
When God doth make this tender (which is then  
When he doth please, and no man knoweth when)  
If any Soul by Satan's guile doth choose,  
What Gods good Spirit moves her to refuse,  
She, then, to put in action doth begin  
The heinous and impardonable sin  
Against the Holy Ghost (which fearful crime  
Is made apparent to the world, in time,  
Or more or less, by outward actions here,  
As God shall please to let the same appear)  
And, after this refusal, every thing,  
Which doth increase of grace, to others, bring,  
Doth make her grow more senseless of her state,  
Or else enrage, or make her desperate.  
And, her freewill, in Adam lost before,  
Is lost again, by her, for evermore.  
But, if she chooseth as the Spirit moveth,  
The Lord, this Soul, without repenting loveth;  
In her, preserving such affections still,  
And such a portion of her first Freewill,  
That though the frailties of her flesh do seem  
To choke them often, in the world's esteem;  
(And sometime in her own) yet she for ever  
Doth in her motion towards God persever,  
Till she arrive in him. Nor doth she cease  
Of pious works, her number to increase:  
But labours for assurance in election,  
By reaching every day at more perfection.  
An●, far is it from God to take away  
The guerdon of our Faith; or to denay  
What he did by his Covenant, ordain,  
To be the wages of our Christian pain:  
Or to command us what should profit nought;  
Or, to neglect the works that we have wrought.  
For, since God heeds those things that are so small,  
As birds alighting, and as hairs that fall;  
Makes use of every circumstance, and chairs  
(To further those main ends which he ordains)  
Ten thousand little trifling things together;  
Not one omitting, none displacing neither,  
Which may be pertinent his ends to further,  
Or to effect them, in their timely Order.  
How could so fond a crotchet be devised,  
That God our serioust actions hath despised?  
Or, that by his Foreknowledge, or Decree,  
Our deeds should all annihilated be?  
Or, that he should so oft incite us to  
What he had given to man, no power to do?  
I dare not venture upon their distractions,  
Who search the order of Eternal actions;  
Nor do I further seek what God foreknows,  
Then he within his Word revealed shows;  
Nor will I ever strive to pry into  
His hidden counsels, as too many do:  
But their unwarrantable paths eschewing,  
And, Gods disclosed purposes pursuing,  
Search only for the knowledge of those things  
Which an effecting of his pleasure brings.  
Since, if I follow them, it cannot be  
That he would purpose any harm to me;  
Or in his secret counsel ought ordain  
To make his publi●e will to be in vain.  
For, though, when Abram, Isa'k thought to kill,  
God's hidden purpose, and revealed will  
Did seem to cross each other (And when he  
Did threaten Niniveh destroyed should be)  
Yet, they appear not opposite to those  
Whose faith, such holy secrets can disclose.  
Or were it so; from acts particular  
None should conclusions general infer.  
God never said, as yet, that I could hear,  
Man, such a day shall perish, howsoe'er  
By faithful works for safety he endeavour.  
But, all his promises and threatenings, ever  
Were made conditional; and have fore-spoken  
Our life, or death, as they are kept, or broken.  
Nor is this any bar, or contradiction  
To God's free Grace; or to his firm Election,  
Or never-ending Love.. Nor helps it those  
Who, perseverance of the Saints, oppose:  
But, rather, maketh all those Doctrines good.  
Yea, being rightly weighed and understood,  
God's justice, and his mercy it unites,  
Whom men's blind Cavils have made opposites.  
God knew the doom, and date of Adam's crime,  
Yet, he did fore-expresse no certain time;  
But, speaking of it, spoke indefinitely,  
And said, That d●y thou sinnest, thou shalt dye.  
And sure, of all men's deaths (who e'er gain says)  
It is their sin that setteth down the days.  
For, till transgression forfeited our breath,  
There was no peremptory day of death.  
And, in affirming, where God's Word is mute,  
It is presumption, to be absolute.  
Do this, saith God, and live; Do that and perish.  
Yet some, whose overfights too many cherish,  
Dare contradict it; and affirm that we  
Good, bad, dead, living, damned, saved be  
e'en from eternity, without respects,  
To any causes, or to their effects.  
And these imply, that (whatsoever we do,  
Or leave undone) God fore-appoints us to  
A certain doom; which we shall strive in vain,  
With all our strength, to shun▪ or to obtain.  
And wherefore then did God his Gospel send?  
Why doth his Word exhort us to amend?  
Why doth he ●id us, this, or that to shun?  
Why hath he charged some things to be done?  
If he no power hath given, or else by fate  
Disableth all men to cooperate?  
And leaves them neither good nor ill to do  
But what he fore-decreed long ago?  
Why threats he stripes? why promiseth reward?  
If there be no compassion, no regard,  
Nor meed for what is done. And what I pray  
Is all Religion, if these truth do say?  
I know God reprobates▪ and doth foresee  
Before all worlds, who reprobates will be.  
But, none he forceth to be so accursed,  
Save those who have his Grace rejected first▪  
And unto those, indeed, he power denies  
To work his will, because they did despise  
His proffered Love; And just it is in him,  
To make them blind, who did the light contemn.  
He doth eternally abhor the crime;  
But he the persons reprobates in time.  
And None doth choose, or personally reject  
(What ever some conceive) but with respect  
Unto his Covenant; which hath implied  
Something to be performed on either side.  
For, were it so, that God hath fore-decreed  
What should befall unto us without heed  
To any Covenant; and barred Salvation,  
By an eternal doom of Reprobation,  
(In such like manner as the fantasies  
Of some (not well advisedly) devise)  
What compass we by striving therewithal▪  
Why spend we time, in rising up to fall?  
Why linger we to act so many crimes?  
To suffer over grief so many times?  
And live so many several deaths to taste,  
To be nor worse, nor better at the last?  
Or wherefore have we prayed, since we know  
What must be, must be, though we pray not so?  
I might be thought o'er bitter, if as they  
I should interrogate, who sharply say;  
Why do not these, who this opinion hold,  
Go hang themselves before that they are old?  
Or in their Gardens, TIMON like, erect  
Fair Gibbets for the Scholars of their Sect?  
What tends their life unto? why should not they  
Refuse to eat and drink; and, wisely, say,  
" God, for our end, a certain day hath set,  
" Which we shall reach, although we taste no meat.  
Why do they shun a danger in the street,  
Since they shall live their time, what e'er they meet?  
If they to any place, desire to go,  
Why trouble they their feet to help thereto?  
Since they are sure, that if decreed it were  
They should come thither, they their pains may spare?  
If thus I should have said, some men would deem me  
To be more bitter than did well beseem me:  
For, I confess that on the quick they grated,  
Who in this manner have expostulated.  
And I forbear it. Yet, this generation  
Hath some who need this tart expostulation;  
With whom loud noises more prevail by far,  
Then do those proofs, that Faiths and Reasons are.  
I know to these Objections, most replies;  
I know their strength, and where their weakness lies;  
I know what holy Scriptures, men mistake,  
Which proofs of their assertions seem to make:  
I know, how they their Arguments mis-lay,  
From that of Esau, and the Potter's clay:  
I know what Times and Terms they misconceive,  
And wherewithal themselves they do deceive.  
I know with what nicknames of heresy,  
Some Readers will for this my Muse belie;  
And that nor they, who called Armini●ns be,  
Nor they who reprehend them, will with me  
Be friends for this; for neither those nor these  
Am I desirous to offend or please.  
But to uphold the Truth, which is belied▪  
Injuriously by most of either side.  
I know their spite, their vinegar, their gall;  
I know what spirit most are led withal  
Who spread the Doctrines which I have reproved,  
And know such Reason nev●r to be moved,  
With favour to them that I dare to say,  
It is the nearest and the straightest way  
To all profaneness. It the bridle gives  
To ●arnall liberties, and makes the lives  
And hearts of many men so void of care:  
From hence distractions; hence despairings are.  
Hence mischiefs; hence self murders do arise;  
Hence is it that such multitudes despise  
Good discipline: yea, this contemned makes  
The life of Faith, if once it rooting takes:  
Disableth pious practices outright▪  
And where it roots, destroys Religion quite.  
Let no man then admit into his thought,  
That God Almighty hath decreed aught  
Which on his justice may infringement bring,  
Or on his Mercy in the smallest thing:  
Or that his Wisdom any thing ordains  
Without the means which thereunto pertains:  
Or think, because our sin he doth permit  
That therefore he necessitateth it:  
Or that he wills those errors he foresees,  
As he the works of righteousness decrees:  
Or, that our humane actions ciphers are:  
Or, that within this world there ever were  
Or shall, those persons be, whom God will call  
Unto account, until he give them shall,  
At least, one Talon, which may serve unto  
The working of that work he bids them do.  
Let no man dream these dreams; nor censure this,  
Till he hath well considered what that is  
Which I deliver. For in this dark way,  
Our learnedst Clerks do sometimes run astray.  
Nor let them think that I concur with all,  
Who in appearance hold this Tenet shall:  
Or that I differ from all men that may  
In terms descent from what I seem to say.  
For they that in expression disagree  
In one wellmeaning, oft united be.  
And either (if that they in love contend)  
Shall then at length, obtain their wished end.  
Oh! labour this, all you that would be thought  
GOD'S glo●y in your studies to have sought;  
That though offences come, they may not move  
Disunion; but God's worthy ones approve.  
And let us with a true sobriety,  
So heed his Actions of eternity,  
That we may see in them a boundlessness,  
Beyond our humane wisdom to express;  
Leave quarrelling about his ways unknown,  
And take more heed here after to our own.  
For, though God pleaseth, other while, to use  
Our vulgar Terms, some notions to infuse  
Of his eternal workings, and apply  
His deeds that way, to our capacity,  
Disclosing them unto us one by one,  
As if at several times they had been done,  
(Because our shallowness no means can find  
To entertain them in their proper kind)  
And though (respecting us who temp'ral be)  
We say, that God Almighty doth foresee,  
Foreknow us, and predestinate; yet sure,  
His Essence no such terms can well endure  
In proper sense; Because with him, no doom,  
Word, Thought, or Act, is passed, or to come.  
But all things present. Yea, all Times, and all  
Those things which we by several names do call,  
Our Birth●, our Lives, our Deaths, and our Salvations,  
Our free-el●ctions, and pr●d●stinations,  
Are all at once with God, without foreseeing;  
e'en all in one-eternall-present-being.  
Which few observing, many men have thought  
That God's eternal actions should be wrought  
Like ours in Time, which is, as if they should  
Endeavour how the world they might enfold  
Within a Nutshell. And while thus men strive  
(According to their fancies) to contrive  
An order in God's Workings, they mistake them  
Blasphemously, and orderless do make them.  
Yea, to define his actions, they neglect  
That part which is their duty to effect;  
Themselves and others losing in a path  
Which neither profit, end, nor safety hath;  
And, by disputing what from us is hidden,  
Disturb the doing that which God hath bidden:  
I have digressed enough; and some there are  
Who think, perhaps, that I have gone too far.  
Yet, let it not be judged impertinent,  
That I have so pursued this Argument.  
For, want of minding what is here rehearsed,  
Hath often times the Pestilence dispersed.  
Yea, some who fond said, that every man  
Shall live his time decreed, do what he can;  
And that each one at his fixed hour shall dye,  
Against which he seeks in vain, a remedy:  
Even these, made much good means of health neglected▪  
Much wise and wholesome counsel be rejected;  
And caused, oft, in this our common woe,  
That Death was brought and carried, to and fro.  
But, lest in chase them, I run astray;  
I'll prosecute again my purposed way.  
The Pestilence doth show herself inclined  
So variously, she cannot be defined.  
She neither certain form, nor habit wears,  
But, partly metaphysical appears,  
And partly natural. She oft may carry  
Her Progress on, by means that's ordinary;  
But, rarely doth begin, or end her Arrant,  
Save by an extraordinary Warrant.  
It doth infect, and it infecteth not.  
It is an arrow which is often shot  
By Gods own hand, from his farstriking bow▪  
Without the help of any means below.  
It is God's Angel, which to death can smite,  
Miraculously, an army in a night.  
It is a rational Disease, which can  
Pick, with discretion, here and there a man;  
And pass o'er those, who either marked are  
For Mercy; or, a greater Plague to bear.  
We see, it suiting hath to Nature's laws,  
A natural motion, and a natural cause;  
For, as a Fire among great Buildings thrown,  
Burns ●imber, melteth Metal, cracketh Stone,  
Defaceth Statues, makes moist places dry,  
The Vaults below to sweat, the tiles to fly  
And manifests his force, in several kinds,  
According to the objects which he finds:  
So, hath the Pestilence a natural power  
To ha●den, fright, endanger, or devour,  
(And diverse other changes to procure)  
As she doth find a several temperature  
In mind or body, fitting the rejection.  
Or for the entertainment of Infection.  
These things considered. They who shall desire  
To scape from this Contagion, must acquire  
A double Ward▪ For, doubtless, there is none  
That can resist it with one guard alone.  
In times of Danger, vainly we presume  
Upon our Ivory boxes of Perfume.  
To little purpose, we defend our noses,  
With Wormwood, Rue, or with our Radeliffe Posies  
Of tarred Ropes. Small warrant for our lives,  
Are all such bodily Preservatives,  
As Cordial waters, Gums, Herbs, Plants, and Roots,  
Our simple or compounded Antidotes.  
Our Boezar-stone; our medicines Chemical;  
Or, that high-prized jewel wherewithal,  
For horn of Unicorn, men cheated are:  
Or, those unhallowed Charms, which many wear.  
For, these are far unable to withstand  
The vigour of his incorporeal hand,  
Who strikes for sin, unless to these we add  
A Plaster which of better things is made.  
Yea Nature fails, unless adjoin we do,  
A medicine metaphysical thereto.  
Moreover, fruitlessly devout are they,  
And that they seek to God they falsely say,  
Who wilfully neglect, or else contemn,  
That outward means, which Nature offers them,  
And God provides, to cure, or to prevent,  
The mischief of Diseases pestilent.  
For, since we framed of souls and bodies are,  
God pleased is, that we should have a care  
To both of them; and labour how to find,  
What appertains to either, in his kind.  
He therefore, who desireth a defence  
Against this Arrow of the Pestilence;  
A complete Armour must from God procure,  
And still be armed, his person to secure.  
He must put on the Helmet of Salvation,  
And show his feet with holy Preparation.  
A Bel● of Truth must for his loins be sought;  
His Breastplate must of Righteousness be wrought.  
The Shield of Faith, his Target must become,  
The darts of Satan to secure him from.  
God's Word must be the Sword upon his thigh,  
His Prayers, like continual shot must fly;  
And he should keep for ever his abode,  
Within the shadow of Almighty God.  
Or else the Workman looseth all his pain;  
And he that watcheth, wake●h but in vain.  
He also must expel out of the soul,  
That filthiness of sin, which makes it foul.  
He must avoid the crimes he lived in;  
His Physic must be Rue (even Rue for sin)  
Of Herb of Grace, a Cordial he must make;  
The bitter Cup of true Repentance take;  
The Diet of Sobriety assume;  
His House with works of Charity perfume;  
And watch, that from his heart in secrecy,  
Arise no savours of Hypocrisy.  
He must believe, God so doth love him, that  
His everlasting good, is aimed at  
In all he suffers; and, that, God doth know,  
And mark his nature, and his temper so,  
As that he will impose nor more, nor less,  
Than shall be needful for his happiness.  
For, such a Faith, will keep h●m still content,  
Still lowly, under every chastisement;  
Still thankful, whatsoever doth befall;  
And Blessings make, of what we Plagues do call.  
He must, moreover with a holy Fear,  
In all his Christian duties persevere;  
Still watchful, and at no time daring aught  
Which may from God divert him in a thought:  
(So near as possibly, the power of man,  
So great a diligence endeavour can.)  
For, round about him are a thousand Fears,  
A thousand Dangers, and ten thousand Snares,  
And, as a Traveller, who for his Bridges,  
To pass deep waters, having nought but ridges  
Of narrow Timbers, dares not cast his eye  
From off the Plank, nor set his foot a wry;  
because beneath him, he beholds a Stream,  
That runs, and roars, and gapes to swallow him:  
So, he that must an hourly passage make,  
Through such like Plagues, as this whereof I speak,  
(And many dangers waiting on him hath,  
To catch him, if he slip his narrow Path)  
Had need be careful that he never stray,  
Nor swarve in any thing beside the way.  
Let, therefore, every man desire, at least▪  
This power; that his desirings may be blest,  
With such pe●formances as he shall need,  
Or, have his Will accepted for the Deed.  
And, let him to his Calling ever stand:  
For, whosoever doth leave that place unmanned  
Wherein God set him; forfeits that reward  
(And is deprived of that Angel guard)  
Of which his Muse doth prophesy, who says,  
We shall preserved be in all our ways.  
Far is it from my nature, to reprove  
With proud insultings, those whom fear did move  
To step aside: For, good and pious men  
Give way to natural frailties now and then;  
And, we whom God emboldened now to stay,  
Hereafter, from less frights may run away.  
Yea, sure I am, that if it do not flow  
From Love, and Pity, that their s●apes we show,  
God may, and will (our folly to deride)  
Make them dare stand, where we shall sear to bide.  
And therefore, hoping none amiss will take  
What I have writ for truth and conscience sake;  
(That men in times to come might look into  
This duty, and be heedful what they do)  
I will affirm, th●t every one hath erred,  
Who in his lawful Calling, was deterred  
So much, as in ●his danger to forsake it:  
And, though a trifling matter many make it,  
I know, the most apparent shows of terror  
Are not excuse enough for such an error.  
For, that we should not in such cases dread  
The greatest perils: God hath promised,  
That if we keep ou● ways, and him observe,  
He will not only, from this Plague preserve;  
But, cause us without ham to walk among,  
Even Adders, Dragon's, Lion's old and young:  
By which pernicious creatures, and untamed,  
Is every danger meant ●hat can be named.  
These things we must observe, if we will hope  
Gods extraordinary blow to stop;  
And other circumstances must attend  
Those means. But, they so naturally depend  
On what precedes; that in well doing one,  
We cannot leave the other part undone.  
Such were those holy medicines, which prevented  
The Plague, at Niniveh, when she repent;  
Such Isr'el used, and it saved them;  
Such kept the Plague out of jerusalem;  
And when the bloody Angel came, had power  
To stop him in Araunab's threshing floor.  
Thus Hezekiah was preserved; thus David  
Was from the very same contagion saved:  
And if unfeignedly we practice thus,  
He doth of safety also warrant us.  
Yea (through this means) we shall be fortified  
With such a coat of proof, as will abide  
That murdering Arrow which in darkness flies,  
From God● own Bow, unseen of mortal eyes.  
And when we thus have done, attempt we may  
To stop the Shaft, that flies abroad by day;  
I mean the natural Sickness, whi●h doth smite  
By means, that is apparent to the sight.  
For, as God striketh, oft, immediate blows  
By some immediate way: right so he shows  
A natural cure to those, whom he doth please  
To warrant from the natural Diseas●▪  
Thus, he for Hezekiah's health revealed  
That Plaster, wherewithal his grief was healed,  
Thus from this Plague have many been secured,  
And many saved, who the stroke endured.  
Here I could show, what Medicines may be taken  
To cure or to prevent the outward stroke;  
To qualify the Air, what might be used;  
What Diet should be taken, what refused;  
What Symptoms do attend on this disease;  
What good, or ill, from Labour, or from Ease  
Too much, or over-little, may be got:  
But, to proceed in this presume I not,  
For, to prescribe external medicines, here  
To every man, too hard a task it were;  
Since they must often changed and mixed, ●e,  
As we the sickness changeable do see,  
And as we find the measure of infection,  
The party's Age, his Temper, or Complexion.  
To those I therefore will commit this part,  
Who are allowed professors of that Art;  
Advising all, that none their aid refuse,  
Nor out of season, their assistance use.  
For, if, before our peace with God be made,  
We (seeking outward means) a cure have had;  
That means shall be the means our death to ●et:  
That cure shall only cure us, to beget  
Another Plague: unless we have repent  
Our folly, and the mischief, so, prevented.  
Yea such, as take that course, do sugar o'er  
Strong poisons, and skin up a festering sore;  
Because those medicines, and that watchfulness  
(From which they did expect a good success)  
Not being with repentance sanctified,  
Nor (in their place) with faithfulness applied,  
Corruptd grow; make what was evil, worse;  
And (in the stead of blessings) bring a curse.  
This Reason proves, For, since it is from Sin  
Whence all our griefs, and sicknesses have been:  
We shall as vainly strive th'effects to stay,  
Till we the Causes first remove away,  
As if we went about to drain a River,  
Before to stop the Springs we did endeavour.  
And, as we neither should o'er much r●ly  
On outward helps; nor take disorderly  
The means of Health; ●ight so, beware we must  
That we do never use it with distrust.  
For as, in seeking safety, most men use  
Preposterous courses (whence much harm ensues)  
Or else (when likely medicines they have got)  
Presume so far, on what availeth not,  
Without God's blessing; that, from him they take  
His due, and of his Creatures, Idols make:  
So, some there be so fearful, that their Fear  
Corrupts their blood, where no infections were;  
Begets that Plague within them which they shun;  
And makes it follow, when they from it run.  
No place, or counsel can of rest assure them;  
No means their hope of safety can procure them:  
But still they are distempered; ever taking  
New courses, and new Medicines always making.  
Of all they meet (if any meet they dare)  
For some Receipt, their fi●st inquiries are.  
What e'er he be that tells them, that, or this  
Prevents the Plague; it straightways practised is.  
They swallow down hot Wa●●rs, Syrups, Drinks,  
Choke up their Chambers wit● Perfumes, & Stinks;  
With Rue, and Wormwood cram their bowels up,  
With Physic break their fa●ts, and dine, and su●:  
Yet, still d●spaire, as if that world of sluffe  
(Which they devoured) were not half enough.  
And, this their terror, doth to me appear,  
A greater Plague, then that which they do fear.  
Mistake me not; I do not here condemn  
The christian, and the filial fear of them,  
That are (with holy dread) employed about  
Such means, as works true salvation out.  
Nor blame it, when a moderate fear doth make  
Alarms in us, Reason to awake.  
For, while our Fear preserves a moderation,  
It is a very necessary passion,  
And stands for Sentinel, to bid us Arm,  
When any Foe doth seem to menace harm.  
Nor do I check that natural Fear, which from  
The knowledge of our weaknesses doth come:  
For, want of that, is mere stupidity;  
And such, can neither feel a Misery,  
Nor ta●te Gods Mercies, with more profit, than  
The brutish Creatures wanting Reason, can;  
Who, of their pains, or pleasures, nought retain  
Much longer, than it doth in act remain.  
I count not each man valiant, who dares die,  
Or venture on a Mischief desperately,  
When, either heat of Youth, or Wine, or Passion  
Shall whet him on, before consideration:  
For, thus a Beast will do, and hath (no doubt)  
As much foresight in what he goes about;  
As those blind Bayards, who courageous be  
In perils, whose events they do not see.  
Nor will I any man a Coward call,  
Although I see him tremble, and look pale  
In dangerous attempts▪ unless he slack  
His just Resolves, by basely stepping back.  
For, as the greater part of men w● find  
To laugh and blush, by nature, much inclined:  
So, many have a natural inclination,  
To trembling, paleness, or some other passion,  
Which, no Philosophy can take away,  
Nor any humane wit, or strength, allay:  
And if their Apprehension proveth better  
Than other men's; their Passions are the greater▪  
Because their searching wits find perils out,  
Whereof the Dullard (never having doubt)  
Hath boldly ventured on them, and outdared,  
Wh●t being heede●, him to death had scared.  
Give me the Man, that with a quaking arm  
Walks with a steadfast mind through greatest harm;  
And though his flesh doth tremble, makes it stand  
To execute what Reason doth command.  
Give me the Soul, that knowingly descries  
All dangers, and all possibilities  
Of outward perils; and yet doth persever  
In every lawful action, howsoever.  
Give me that Heart, which in itself doth war  
With many frailties (who li●e Traitors are  
In some besieged Fort) and hath to do  
With outward Foes, and inward Terrors too;  
Yet of himself, and them, a conquest makes,  
And still proceeds in what he undertakes.  
For, this is double- valour; and such men  
(Although they are mis-censured now, and then)  
Enjoy those minds that best composed are;  
In lawful quarrels are without compare;  
And (when the Coward, hoodwinked goes to fight)  
Dare cha●ge their sternest Foes with open sight.  
Let no Man therefore glory, or make boast  
Of Courage, when they feel their Dread is lost,  
Or think themseles the safer, when they find  
Their Fear is gone, whilst Peril slays behind;  
Especially, when they besieged appear,  
With such like Plague's, as this, we treat of here.  
For that endangers, rather than secureth;  
Since Custom, or else Ignorance procu●eth  
That brutish ●earlesnesse: And, where we see  
Such hardiness, God's judgements fruitless be.  
There is required, yet, one Caveat more  
To perfect that, which hath been said before;  
Even this; that we grow watchful, lest the while  
We trust in God, we do ourselves beguile  
With fruitless confidence, and on his grace  
(Beyond his warrant) our assurance place.  
For, many thousands wondrous forward are  
In God's large promises to claim a ●hare;  
Who, those conditions never mused on,  
Which he doth ground his Covenant upon.  
And as the jews (from whom they take example)  
Bragged of their outward worship, and their Temple,  
As if God's League extended unto all,  
Who could themselves, the sons of jacob, call,  
Without respecting their partic'lar Way:  
So, we have some among us, that will say,  
They trust in God, and that, in this infection,  
They full assurance have of his protection:  
Because they formally his Truth profess;  
Perform external works of Holiness;  
Or visibly, with such, partakers are,  
With whom the Pledges of Gods love appear.  
But, they that on these outward works rely,  
Without true faith, and true sincerity;  
Commit those guilded sins, whose gloss will wear,  
And leave their natural corruptions bare:  
Yea they, of their professions, idols make;  
And, will the Covenant of God mistake,  
Until in his conveyances, they see  
What duties, on their par●s, required be.  
God promises (indeed) all such to save,  
Who in his holy Church their dwelling have;  
And th●t he will vouchsafe them his de●ence  
From dangers of the noisome Pestilence:  
But they must love him, and invoke him, then,  
Or else the Bargain is unmade again.  
Thus much infers the Psalmist, in that Ode,  
Which prophecies the saving Grace of God.  
Those, therefore, too too much on them assume,  
Yea, (foolishly) of mercy they presume,  
Who boast of God's protection, and yet tread  
Those paths, which to a sure destruction lead.  
I do not mean, when any man mis●does  
Through frailty, or unwillingly mis-goes:  
But when, with liking, and without remorse,  
He wilfully pursues a wicked Course.  
For, such, their confidence on God, belly,  
Depending on their own security;  
And cannot see those dangers they are in,  
Because ●heir Consciences have seared been.  
How many thousands in the Grave are laid,  
Who, in their lifetimes, impudently said  
They should be safe in God? yet never took  
His counsel, nor one vanity forsook  
For love of him? How many have I heard  
Presumptuously affirm, they never feared  
The danger of God's Arrows? though they flew  
At n●one, at midnight, and so many slew  
In every street? yea, shamelessly profess  
Their trust in God, to cause their fearlessness,  
Yet, nothing for the love of him ●ndevour?  
How boldly have I seen them to persever  
In every ●in, when Gods fierce Angel stood,  
Even just before them, all embrued in blood;  
And slaught'ring round about them neighbours, brothers  
Their friends▪ their kinsmen, children, fathers, mothers,  
And some of every sort? Nay, I have heard  
Of such, who were not any jot afeared  
To bargain for their Lust, in times to come,  
Within the compass of the selfsame room,  
Where (at that instant) they beheld their wives  
Lie newly dead; or labouring for their lives.  
They waste Gods Creatures in luxurious diet;  
Consume their times in wantonness, and riot;  
They feasts, and merriments, in Taverns keep,  
Whilst others in the Temples, fast, and weep;  
Th●y persecute their brethren, and the poor;  
Perform no good; forbear no sin the more;  
And live so carelessly, as if they thought,  
That, when the greatest wickedness they wrought,  
It proved, their trust in God to be the greater;  
And, that lewd works, showed forth their faith the better;  
Or else that God the more obligement had,  
Because he was so good, and they so bad▪  
Even such there are. And these make boastings will,  
Of ●rust in God, yet such continue still.  
Alas, it is but vain to say Lord, Lord,  
Or to profess a confidence in word,  
Where lively Faith appears not: for, God granteth  
Protections unto none, but whom he planteth  
Within his Vineyard; wherein grows no tree,  
But in some measure, it will fruitful be;  
Or ●lse, a storm shall come, which down will shake it,  
With whatsoever, carnal props, we s●ake it.  
No high-presuming Cedars, nor stiff Oaks,  
Are those whom God exempteth from the strokes  
Of his tempestuous wrath: but, that which bendeth  
To every blast, which he in judgement sendeth,  
As doth a bruised, or low-stooping Reed,  
Which, by the bowing, is from breaking freed.  
Yea those, who really within the shade  
Of his defence, have their abidings made;  
Those only, may depend on his protection,  
Amid the ragings of this hot Infection.  
And who are these, but such, as (when they see  
The threatened Plague) afraid, and humbled be?  
Such, as through hearty love, ashamed grow,  
That they so good a God displeased so:  
Such, as are sorry for their passed crimes,  
And truly purpose, in all future times  
A better life: Such, who, for conscience sake  
(And not through servile fear) themselves betake  
To pious exercises: such, who strive  
To mortify their lusts, and how to live  
As worthy their free-calling: such, as they,  
Who every hour, do labour, watch, and pray▪  
Their duties to perform; and dare not peep  
Abroad at morning, or at evening sleep,  
Till they the sacrifice of thanks have paid,  
For favours past; and begged for future aid.  
Such, as on Gods own pleasure can rely,  
And, in his Faith resolved are to dye.  
Such, as have Charity; and working are  
Their safeties with continual joy, and fear●▪  
Even such as these, securely may repose  
When twenty thousand dangers them enclose.  
On these, God's Angels wait▪ and these they shall  
From stumbling keep, when many Millions fall▪  
From every kind of harm they shall be free,  
And sleep, where fears, and mischief's thickest be:  
Yea, though that seize them, which the Plague we call,  
It shall to them become no Plague at all;  
But rather be their furtherance, to acquire  
That perfect happiness, which they desire.  
Let no man, therefore, in this Visitation  
Tye God unto the temporal preservation;  
Or be discouraged, if he shall please  
To exercise him under this Disease,  
Supposing, he inflicteth it on none  
(As some fools think) but Reprobates alone.  
For he did Hezekiah thereby strike▪  
He, by th●s Malady, or some such like,  
Afflicted holy David, his Elected;  
Whose Reprobation is of none suspected.  
And though just men from temporal infection  
Shall find more certainty of God's protection,  
Than others do: yet sure, that Pestilence  
(From which God promised absolute defence)  
Is not that sickness which the body slays;  
But that, which death unto the soul conveys.  
Our ●●rthly griefs, to heavenly joys do rear●,  
And why should any Man or grudge or fear  
A mortal wound, so he might gain thereby  
A body clothed with immortality?  
Or why should we repine, in missing that,  
Which (to our damage) we had aimed at;  
When God doth give us more than we desired;  
●nd lifts us higher, than our hopes aspired?  
To him due praises, rather, let us give,  
Whose love to us, is better, then to live.  
But, I have said enough to this effect,  
And if, what I have spoken, have respect,  
We shall (I hope) hereafter well dis●erne,  
What, by this judgement, we are bound to learn▪  
How much to trust; how much to hope, or fear;  
What outward means, or inward helps there are,  
Whereby, this heavy Plague may be prevented▪  
Or entertained, with a breast contented.  
So few (as yet) have thus prepared been,  
That now of late it quickly rushed in  
In spite of all our Halberds, and our Watches.  
And as a Flame (which in a Tempest, catches  
On some full Barn) is blown about the Village,  
And fi●eth, here, the hopeful fruits of Tillage;  
A Cottage there; on th'other side the way  
A well-●ill'd Stable, or a Rick● of Hay;  
Another yo●; close by, doth menace harm  
Even to the Church; forthwith consume ● Farm;  
Some dwellings (now, and then) doth overgo▪  
Anon la●es waste a dozen in a row;  
And still increase, go forward, and return,  
Until the Town in every quarter burn:  
So raged the Pestilence. And, as we see  
Those workmen, who, repairing breaches b●  
In Thame, or Trent, at first the Banks do raise▪  
Shut clos● the Sluices, strengthen up the Bay's,  
And labour seriously with much good hope,  
While they perceive but some few gaps to stop:  
But, when they see the Flood prevailing more,  
(Ten breaches made, for ●v'ry one before)  
And all endeavours fail; they work forsake,  
Leaving the waters their own coarse to take:  
So, when this Flood began▪ we had ● thought  
To keep it back; and to that purpose wrought:  
But, when we saw it rise beyond our power,  
We gave it way at pleasure to devour.  
At first, the public Officers did show  
Their skill in curbing this encroaching Foe,  
Not sparing to be prodigal of pain,  
The spreadings of Infection to restrain;  
And every private family beside,  
Against this danger did for arms provide▪  
Their Yards, and Halls, were smoked with perfume,  
To stop the stinks, which thither might presume.  
Their Chambers furnished were with Antidotes,  
With Viols, Boxes, Glasses, Gallipots,  
All filled with munition of defence  
(As they supposed) against the Pestilence.  
Some did in Meats their means of safety think;  
Some Epicures did arm themselves with Drink;  
Some, foolishly did build up monstrous hope●  
Upon the smoking of Tobacco shops;  
(But this disease, without a Conscience making  
Of their presuming on Tobacco taking,  
Came thither too, and frequently did carry  
Good-fellows from their smoking Sanctuary.)  
Some, one, and some another course devised▪  
Yet, every day more places were surprised.  
Which, when we saw, and how it overcast  
All temporal force; we thought upon (at last)  
The help of God: and then we did repair  
To crave his aid in Fasting, and in Prayer,  
Then some, through servile terror; some, for fashion,  
And some, out of a true humiliation,  
Emplored aid from heaven; and showed in teare●  
Their Hope, their true Repentance, and their Fears:  
But, whether God did for a while contemns  
Ou● suit, because we gave not ear to him,  
When first he called: or, whether he thought fit,  
(That we the longer might remember it)  
To fright us somewhat more: or whether we  
Brought not such hearty penitence, as he  
Expected from us: or appointed were  
Some further trials of our Faith to bear:  
Sure, some such cause there was; and for that cause,  
God did not only seem to make a pause  
In answering our Petition; but, to chide  
More sharply, and to throw it quite aside.  
For with a doubled, and redoubled stroke  
The Plague went on; and, in (among us) broke  
With such unequalled fury, and such rage;  
As Briton never felt in any age.  
With some at every turning she did meet.  
Of every Alley, every Lane and Street  
She got possession: and we had no way,  
Or passage, but she there, in Ambush, lay.  
Through Nooks, & Corners, she pursued the Chase,  
There was no barring her from any place:  
For in the public Fields in wait she laid;  
And into private Gardens was convaid.  
Sometime, she did among our Garments hide;  
And, so, disperse among us (unespyed)  
Her strong Infections. Otherwhile (unseen)  
A Servant, Friend, or Child betrayed hath been,  
To bring it home; and men were fearful grown  
To tarry, or converse, among their own.  
Friends fled each other▪ Kinsmen stood aloof▪  
The Son, to come within his Father's roof  
Presumed not; the Mother was constrained  
To let her child depart unentertained.  
The love, betwixt the husband, and the wife,  
Was oft neglected, for the love of life;  
And many a ●ne their promise falsified,  
Who vowed, that nought but death should then divide.  
Some, to frequent the Markets were afraid;  
And some to feed on what was thence purvayed.  
For on young pigs such purple spots were s●ene,  
As marks of De●th on Plague-sicke men have been▪  
And it appeared that our suburbe-Hogs  
Were little better, than our Cats, and Dogs▪  
Men knew not, whither they might safely come,  
Nor where to make appointments, nor with whom.  
Nay, many shunned G●ds-house, and much did fear  
So far to trust him, as to meet him there.  
In brief, the Plague did such destruction threat,  
And Fears, and Perils were become so great,  
That most men's hearts did fail; and they to flight  
Betook themselves, with all the speed they might:  
Not only they, who private persons were,  
But, such as did the public Titles bear.  
The Mayor startled, and some say was gone:  
But, when his Charge he truly thought upon,  
It settled him; and he at Helm did 'bide  
Until his room was orderly supplied.  
And (let me do him right) it since appeared,  
That, with go●d Diligence his Course he steered.  
For, on hi● back were many burdens laid;  
The Country of provisions us denied;  
The greater part with sickness waxed froward;  
Much want did make the poorer sort untoward;  
That when I call to mind his heavy task,  
And little help; me thinks it praise doth ask.  
Most of his gowned- Brethren him forsook,  
And to their Country Bowers themselves betook;  
Where, how they prayed, or what they sent by gift,  
To feed the Poor; I leave it to the shrift  
Of their own consciences; which best can tell,  
What things they have performed ill, or well.  
Physicians were afraid, as well as these,  
And neither Galen, nor Hypocrates  
Could yield them any warrant for delay;  
And therefore (with the first) they went away.  
Some Leeches of the Soul, (who should have stayed)  
Were much (nay somewhat overmuch) afraid,  
And had forgotten so, how to apply  
Thei● heavenly Cordials of Divinty,  
Against the fear of ●eath; that when most dangers  
Beset their Flocks; they left ●hem unto strangers.  
Nay▪ some there were, who did among us teach,  
That Men should fly; & that, which they did preach,  
They taught the people by example too.  
Pray God, in other things th●y may do so.  
Few stayed, of any calling or degree,  
Who to their Country-●riends might welcome be;  
Or, of themselves were able to provide  
A place of Harbour, where they might abide.  
Yea some, (to scape uncertain Death) did fly  
Into the jaws of certain Beggary,  
By leaving of their Callings; and are flown  
So far, and high a flight out of this Town,  
On borrow'd-feathers; that their Neighbour's fear,  
They never more will in their shops appear.  
Those of our wanton Gentry, that could brook  
No Air, but London's; London quite forsook;  
And all that Crew of Spendthrifts, whom (until  
This Plague did fright them) nor Star-Chamber Bill,  
Nor strictest Proclamation, could compel  
Upon their own Inheritance to dwell;  
Were now, among their racked Tenants fain  
To seek for shelter; and to air again  
Th●se mu●●● Rooms, which ●heir more thrifty Sire●  
Kept warm and sweet with hospitable Fires.  
God grant, that where they come, they may do good,  
Among their Tenants, by their neighbourhood.  
Of some we hopeful are, they will be such;  
And of some others we do fear as much,  
That by their presence they will plague them more,  
Then by their willing absence heretofore.  
In many a mile you scarce could find a Shed,  
Or hovel, but it was inhabited,  
(Sometime with double Families) and Stalls  
And Barns were trimmed up in stead of Halls.  
Those Burgesses, that walked in Gowns, and Furs,  
Had got them coats, and swords, and boots, & spurs;  
And, till you saw them ride, you would have sworn,  
That, they, for horsemen, might have served the turn.  
Those Dames, who (out of daintiness, and Pride)  
The rustic plainness did (erewhile) deride,  
(And, at a better lodging, Fob, would cry)  
Beneath a homely roof were glad to lie;  
And fawn on every Child, and every Groom,  
That, so they might the welcomer become.  
Those, who in all their life-time never went  
So far, as is the nearest part of Kent:  
Those, who did never travel, till of late,  
Half way to Pancridge from the City gate:  
Those, who might think, the Sun did rise at Bow,  
And set at Acton, for aught they did know:  
And dream, young Partridge suck not, but are said  
As Lambs, and Rabbits, which of eggs are bred:  
Even some of these have journeys ventured on  
Five miles by Land (as far as Edmonton.)  
Some hazarded themselves from Lion-key  
Almost as far as Erith down by Sea:  
Some rowed against the stream, and straggled out  
A● far as Hounslow-heath, or thereabout:  
Some climbed High-gate-hill, and there they ●ee  
The world so large, that they amazed be;  
Yea some are gone so far, that they do kno●  
E'er this, how Wheat is made, and Malt doth grow.  
Oh, how they trudged, and busled up and down,  
To get themselves a furlong out of town.  
And how they were becumbred, to provide,  
That had about a m●le or two to ride.  
But when whole households further off were sent,  
You would have thought the Master of it, meant  
To furnish forth some Navy, and that he  
Had got his neighbour's ventures to be.  
For all the near acquaintance thereabout,  
By lending somewhat holp to set them out.  
What hiring was there of our hackney jades?  
Wh●t scouring up of old, and rusty blades?  
What running to and fro was there to borrow  
A Safeguard, or a Cl●●ke, until the morrow?  
What shift made jack for girths? what shift made Gillian  
To get her neighbour's footstool, & her pillian,  
Which are not yet returned? How great a pother  
To furnish, and unfurnish one another  
In this great voyage did there then appear?  
And what a time was that for Bankrupts here?  
Those who had thought (by night) to steal away,  
Did unsuspected shut up shop by day;  
And (if good luck it in conclusion prove)  
Two dangers were escaped at one Remove:  
Some hired Palfr●yes for a day, or twain,  
But road so far, they came not back again.  
Some dealed by their neighbours, as the jews  
At their departure did th' Egyptians use:  
And some, (with what was of their own, content)  
took up their luggage, and away they went.  
And had you heard how loud the Coaches rumbled;  
beheld how Carres, and Cart● together jumbled;  
S●ene how the ways with people thronged were;  
The Bands of Foot, the Troops of Horsemen there;  
What multitudes away by Land were sent;  
How many thousands fo●th by Water went;  
And how the wealth of London thence was borne;  
You would have wondered; and (almost) have sworn  
The City had been leaving her foundation,  
And seeking out another situation;  
Or, that some Enemy with dreadful power,  
Was coming to besiege, and to devour.  
Oh; foolish people, though I justly might  
Authorise thus my Muse●o ●o mock your flight,  
And still to flout your folly's: yet, compassion  
Shall end it in a kind expostulation.  
Why with such childish terror did you try  
To run from him, from whom you cannot fly?  
Why left you so the place of your abode,  
Not hasting rather to go meet your God  
With true repentance, who for ever hath  
A mercy for us in his greatest wrath?  
Why did you not your lawful callings keep?  
But straggle from you● folds like wand'ring Sheep▪  
That had no Shepherd? And, oh, why, I pray▪  
You Shepherds, have you caused them to stray?  
Your Neighbours why forsook you in distress?  
Why did you leave your brethren comfortless?  
When God did call for Mourning, why so fast  
Did you to seek for mirth, and pleasures, hast?  
And take away from other, when you fled,  
What, in their need, should them have comforted?  
If Death be dreadful, stay, and learn to die;  
For, Death affects to follow those that fly.  
Had you not ●one, you might for ever after  
Have said, That Sorrow profits more than Laugh●er.  
You should have known that Death hath limits here,  
And loosed was, where he did bound appear:  
That many were preserved in th● flame,  
And many burnt, that came not nigh the same.  
Yea, some of you, be●ore from hence you went,  
Had, of these Truths, got some experiment.  
What ●olly then, or Frenzy you bewitches,  
To leave your houses, and go dye in ditches?  
Forgo the Comfort, which your City yields,  
To venture for a lodging in the fields?  
Or (which is worse) to tràvell far, and find  
Those prove ungentle, whom you hoped, kind?  
A Plague so bitter, That might Plagues be chused  
I would be Plague-sicke, rather than so used.  
Did you suppose the Pestilence would spare  
None here, nor come to seize on any there?  
All perished not, that did behind you stay;  
Nor did you all escape, who fled away.  
For, God your passages had so beset,  
That He with many thousands of you me●.  
In Kent, and (all along) on Essex side  
A Troop of cruel Fevers did reside:  
And ro●nd about, on every other Coast,  
Of several Country- Agues lay an host.  
And, most of them, who had this place forsook,  
Were either slain by them, or Prisoners took.  
Sometime the Pestilence herself ●ad been  
Before them in their Lodging, at their Inn;  
And hath arrested them upon the Bed,  
Brought many sick away, and many dead.  
Sometime (again) she after them hath gone,  
And when (perchance) she was not thought upo●:  
Among their friends, and in their merriment,  
Hath seized them, to their greater discontent.  
She divers apprehended on the way,  
Who to so many mischiefs were a prey;  
That poorest beggars found more pity here,  
And lesser grief, than richer men had there.  
I do not mean concerning that neglect,  
That barbarous, unmanly disrespect  
Their bodies had among the clownish crew,  
When from the tainted flesh the spirits flew.  
For, if their carcases they did contemn,  
What harm, or what disease was that to them?  
What pain, or torment was it, if that they  
(Like carrion) in the fields, unburied lay?  
What felt they, being ●ragged like a Log,  
Or hurled into a Saw-pit like a Dog?  
What disadvantage could that Doctor have,  
Who (learnedly) was drawn into his grave  
By na●ed men? since those things do disgrace  
The living rather, and do wrong the place  
Th●t suffers, or allows that barb'rousnesse  
To shame the Christian Faith, which they profess.  
Alas; my heart as little can bemoan  
A mangled carcase, as a broken stone▪  
It is a living body, and the pains,  
Which I conceive a broken heart sustains,  
That moveth me: their grief, in life-time was,  
And, whilst they lived, their sorrows did surpass  
These feigned ones, as Death, and loathed Care,  
By Life, and true Content, excelled are.  
Some, who forsook fair houses, large, and high;  
Could scarcely get a Shed to keep them dry;  
And such, who many bed●, and lodgings had,  
To lie on straw without the doors were glad.  
Some over-tyred with weariness, and he●t,  
Could not, for money, purchase drink, or meat;  
But cruelly of succour were denied,  
Till, through their faintness, they grew sick & died.  
Some, who in London had been waited on  
With many servants, we●e enclosed alone  
In solitary places; where they m●ght  
Find leisure, to repent them of their flight.  
And, when they had supplies at any need,  
The bringers did (like those that Lions feed)  
Even throw it at them; or else some where set it,  
Where (after their departures) they might fet it.  
And many a one (no helper to attend him)  
Was left to live, or dye, as God should friend him.  
Some, who unwisely did their homes forsake,  
That trial of the Country they might make;  
Have brought their lives to miserable ends  
Before they could arrive among their friends.  
Some, having reached the places they desired,  
(With no mean difficulty, weak, and tired)  
Have miss welcome, where they sought relief;  
And, strucken by unkindness, died with Grief▪  
The sickly Wife, could no assistance have  
To bring her Husband's body to the grave.  
But was compelled, with a grieved heart,  
To act the Parsons, and the Sexton's part.  
And he, that wanted strength ●o bear away  
His mate, who dead within his presence lay;  
Was fain to let the stinking body lie,  
Till he in death should bear him company.  
Ah me; what tongue can tell th● many woes,  
The passions, and the many griefs of those?  
What mortal pen is able to express  
Th●ir great temptations in that loneliness?  
What heart can think, how many a grievous fear  
To those distressed people may appear,  
Who are with such afflictions over-tak●n?  
Of every Creature in the world forsaken?  
Without a Comforter left all alone,  
Where to themselves they must themselves bemoan,  
Without a remedy? And where none may  
Or know, or pity, what they ●eele, or say.  
Me thinks to muse on those who suffered thus,  
Should bring to mind the mercy showed us,  
And make our pens and voices to express  
The love of God, with hearty Thankfulness.  
For when no sorrows of mine own I had,  
The very thought of those hath made me sad.  
And were it not that God hath given me  
Some trials of those Com●orting●, which He  
For men in their extremities provides,  
And from the knowledges of others hides:  
Or felt I not, how prevalent God's power  
Appears in us, when there is none of our:  
What liberty he give's, when we do fall  
Within the compass of an outward thrall:  
And what contentments He bestows on them,  
Whom others do neglect, or else contemn:  
Yea, had I not believed him who says,  
That God doth knowledge take of all our ways;  
That He observes each rub within our path,  
With every secret sorrow, which it hath;  
That he is nearest then, when we bemoan  
His absence, an● suppose him furthest gone;  
And often in us dwells, when Those abroad  
(With most insulting) say; Where is their God?  
Had this been hidden from me: I had here  
For every line I writ, dropped down a tear;  
And in a flood of sorrows drenched mine eyes,  
When first I mused on these miseries▪  
But I have known them, to my great content▪  
And felt so oft, w●at comforts God hath lent,  
When of all outward helps we are deprived;  
That (could the same of all men be believed)  
It would be thought, true Pleasures w●re possessed  
Of none, but men forsaken, and distressed.  
How ever; though such mercy God bestows,  
And brings men comfort in their greatest woes;  
Let none of us presume, (as some have done)  
Without our Circle, foolishly to run;  
Nor leave our proper station, that we may  
Go seek our fortunes in an uncouth way.  
Conceive me right; I do not here deny,  
Or call in doubt the lawfulness, to fly:  
Nor am I of their counsel, who despise  
All such as fled: nor, judge I too precise  
Those, who the Person, or the Place avoid,  
Which is with any noisomeness annoyed.  
For, when the causes of remove, are just,  
We then may fly the Plague; nay, than we must;  
Since, those who will not, (in such cases) go,  
Tempt God, and fail in what they ought ●o do.  
If that a King, or Prince, should live within  
A City much infected, it were sin.  
For he (no doubt) hath some Vicegerent there  
Who, in his absence, may supply his care:  
Or, if that Place were certain of decay  
By his departure; yet he might not stay.  
The Reason is; there many thousands are  
O● Towns, and Cities, that in him have share.  
Who, would conceive, it were unjustly done,  
That he should venture all their wealth in One.  
And make great Kingdoms hazards to endure,  
The welfare of one City to procure.  
So, Counsellors of State, and he, whose Charge  
Extends throughout the Common wealth at large,  
With every other Magistrate beside,  
(Except his power to s●me one place be tied)  
Must shun the Plague; because that such, as he,  
Sworn servants to the whole Weal-public be.  
And since the safest Physic and defence  
For Children, in the times of Pestilence,  
Is to remove them: they unwisely do,  
Who, having wealth, and friend's to send them to,  
Neglect the means, by being over nice;  
Or grudging at the charge, through avarice.  
Moreover they, whose calling seems to lie  
Within two several places, equally,  
(Till some plain causes hinder) may be fre●  
To live where safety best appears to be:  
Unless their secret conscience do gainsay;  
And who can judge of that, but God, and They?  
Yea, Men, on diverse good occasions more,  
May from the places of Infection go.  
For there be times of stay, and times of going,  
Which, every one (that is discreet) well knowing,  
Doth censure no partic'lar Man, at all:  
But calling unto mind, that blessed Paul  
Was once even in a basket forth conveyed  
From his Pursuers; yet no iotafraid  
(At other seasons) to continue there,  
Where bloody persecutions hottest were.  
And if my words have done my meaning right,  
My Muse denies not, but alloweth flight:  
Provided always, that Men do not fly  
From Casual Plagues, to Plagues with Certainty:  
From those with whom the bands of Charity,  
Of Duty, Friendship, or Affinity,  
Or of their Calling, doth requi●e a stay.  
Provided also, when they part away,  
That as God blessed them hath, they somewhat ●●nde,  
To comfort those, who must abide behind;  
And, that they trust not to their Flight, as tho,  
That, of itself could save: but, ra●her know,  
And use it as the gracious means of him,  
Who saves; and, not as that which saved them.  
Let the● consider likewise, that the Sin  
Was partly theirs, which did the Plague begin;  
And, in their absence (with a Christian fear)  
Make suit for those, who must the burden bear,  
From which they scape: yea, let them all confess  
Their sins with penitenc● and humbleness;  
Avoiding every pleasure, where they live,  
Which out of mind, their brethren's cares may drive;  
Lest God pursue them whither they are fled;  
There ●eize upon them to their greater dread;  
Or from them take away all due correction,  
Which Plague were greater than this great Infection.  
For, when his judgements, God, in wrath, removes,  
His Mercy, then, the greater judgement proves.  
There be, I know, some people gone away,  
Who mi●ding our afflictions, night and day,  
Have much bewailed our distressed case,  
And sent up earnest prayers fo● this Place:  
For, of their Piety good fruits are seen,  
And, by their hands, the poor refreshed have been.  
These, from this Den of Slaughter, were (no doubt)  
By God's especial favour called out,  
Who, for their sakes, I hope, those towns will spare,  
To which, for shelter, they escaped are,  
As he did Zoar. And I wish they may  
Obtain their lives, and safeties for a prey.  
But, there be some; (and would to God, that some  
Were but a little one) who parted from  
Our City walls, as if they had not gone  
With Vengeance at their heels; or waited on  
By fears and dangers; but, so finified,  
As if their meaning was, to show their pride  
In Country Churches, for a week or twain,  
Ride out like Cockneys, and come home again:  
The sorrows of their brethren they forgot;  
In holy duties they delighted not:  
In drunken meetings they their leisure spent;  
In idle visits; foolish merriment:  
And, to their Country-friends they carried down  
Those sins that are too common in this Town.  
Which (if they practise there, as here we do)  
Will bring their wages, also, thither too.  
These giddy runaways, are they that were  
Beginne●s of that great unmanly fear,  
Which did first author of disorder prove.  
These, caused that improvident Remove,  
Which did both wrong the welfare of the Citi●,  
Distract the Country, make it void of pity;  
And, give occasion of those Tales which Fame  
Hath now dispersed, to our common shame.  
For, if their flight had timely been provided,  
(With Conscience and Discretion truly guided)  
Th●i● profit here at home had been the greater,  
And▪ f●iends abroad, had entertained ●hem better.  
And, yet I take small pleasure to excuse  
T●ose Peasants, who so grossly did abuse  
Their Manhood and Religion, in denying  
T●e dues of Charity, to people dying.  
For, though their folly might their fall deserve,  
Yet we our Christian pity should preserve,  
Our brother in extremities relieving;  
Not adding sorrows to increase his grieving,  
Nor taking notice of his evil deed●,  
So much, as of that comfort which he needs:  
Till, he refreshed by a friendly ●and,  
His errors, by our love, may understand.  
And, sure, there was a means to succour stranger's  
In their distress, and to escape the dangers  
Of that Infection, (which so much was feared)  
Had Understandings eye be●ne better cleared;  
And, that Self-love, and Avarice, removed,  
Which kept good path● unseen, and unapproved.  
But, since that easy knowledge hath been hid,  
By wilful blindness, well enough I did,  
If, here, I (Satyrizing) should express  
The Country's folly, and forgetfulness.  
And yet, I will not write, to their disgraces,  
What of some Persons, and particular Places  
Hath rumoured been: lest I should spirit a blot  
So black, as that it would not be forgot  
In future Ages; but, make Times-to-come,  
Suspect, they had denied their Christendom.  
For, should our Muse (who, if she list thereto,  
Cares not who frowns, or frets, at what we do)  
Should she put on that strain of Bitterness,  
With which their cruelty we could express:  
Should we in our description of their Fear,  
Cause all their Indiscretion to appear:  
Should we illustrate here, the true Relations,  
Of what hath passed in many Corporations;  
What uproars in some Towns have raised been,  
When Londoners, approaching them, were seen:  
How master Maior was straightway flocked about;  
How they to Counsel went to keep them out;  
How they their watches doubled, as if some  
Had brought them news that Spinola would come:  
And what ridiculous actions passed among them;  
Some few, perhaps, would think th●t we did wrong them;  
And, they would subjects be of scorn, and laughter,  
For ●ll their evil willers, ever after.  
Or, should we tell what propable suspicion  
Appeared, sometime, of wisdom and discretion,  
In goodman Constable; when, in a standing,  
To windward from the Road (& there commanding  
Brown bills, and Halberds) he examined  
Such Travellers, as from the City fled:  
And (at the very looks of them affrighted)  
Sent feeble women, weary and benighted,  
(Without or meat or drink) to try the field●  
What Charity, their better nature yields.  
If this we told, it might go hard▪ when we  
Should apprehended in their Watches, be.  
Or, should we show, what polici●s did please  
The wisdom of some rustic justices;  
Describe that wondrous witty stratagem  
Which for a while was practised by them  
To starve the Plague; how Christianly they sought  
That no provisions hither might be brought;  
Should we produce their Orders, which of late  
Were put in u●e, and wisemen laughed at:  
Or, publish to the world what we have heard  
Of their demeanours, when they were afeard:  
How they were fooled by some of them that fled:  
What course was taken to inter their dead:  
How▪ he who for that work could hired be,  
Was f●r his labour, chained to a tree  
A full month after: how, they forced some  
From their sweet wholesome houses forth to come;  
And (being sick and weak) to make their bed  
Within a paltry new erected Shed,  
Composed of clods; which near some Common-side  
Their charitable Worships did provide:  
Or, should I on some other matters touch  
Which I have heard; it would enlarge too much  
This book: and some of those, perhaps, perplex,  
Whom I desire to counsel, not to vex.  
But, I from aggravations will forbear,  
And, those their oversights, at this time, spare.  
For, some (although most others did not so)  
Thei● love and Christian piety did show,  
In counselling, in cherishing, in giving,  
And, in the wisest manner of relieving.  
Beside; I love the Country, as I pity  
The sorrows and afflictions of the City.  
And (since they both are guilty) being loath  
To side with either; I the faults of both  
Have showed, so, that neither I abu●e.  
Now, they that like it may; the rest may choose.   

The third Canto.  

The House of MOURNING, which most ●eare,  
(And fly so much) is praised here.  
It shows that outward joys and Care,  
Nor merely good, nor evil, are;  
But things indifferent; which the wise  
Nor over-praise, nor under-prize.  
The strife within our Author's breast  
About his stay, is next expressed.  
Then doth it orderly recite  
What Reason argued for his flight:  
What Faith alleged, to reprove  
The Motives urging his remove:  
What Arms for him, she did prepare,  
To bide the shock of Death, and Fear:  
What proof she to his Conscience made,  
That, he a lawful Calling had,  
In midst of this great Plague to tarry,  
By Warrant-extraordinary:  
What, thereupon he did conclude:  
What joy, and Confidence ensued:  
How much this Favour he doth prize,  
Above Earth's glorioust Vanities:  
How he his Time desires to spend:  
And so, this CANTO hath an end.   
HOw childish is the World! and what a path  
Her Throng of brainsick Lovers trodden hath!  
Like brutish herds they troop along together,  
Both led, and leading on, they know not whither.  
Much hoping, where no ground of Hope appears,  
Much fearing, where indeed, there are no fears.  
In those things pleased, which true Mirth destroy:  
For that thing grieved which procureth joy:  
Most shunning, what might bring most gain unto them;  
And seeking most, for what would most undoo them.  
How few are so clear-sighted, a● to see  
What pleasures mingled with afflictions be?  
Or what contentments do concealed lie▪  
Behind the seeming dangers which they fly?  
How few have, by experience, understood  
That God hath sent their troubles for their good?  
How few consider, to what fearful ends,  
The fair smooth way, of easeful Pleasure tends?  
And, therefore, oh! how few adventure dare  
Where Mournings, rather than where Laughters are?  
Though God himself prefer the house of Grief,  
Before vain Mirth; and Pleasures of this life  
Hath termed Thorns, that choke the heavenly seed:  
Yet few of us have taken so much heed  
Of what the sacred Volume doth record,  
(And, flesh and blood) distrusteth so the word  
Of his fi●me Truth) that blindly we pursue  
Our own vain counsels, and his Tract●schew ●schew.  
'Tis therefore doubtful, it would vain appear,  
If I should labour to discover here,  
How many secret pleasures I have seen  
While in the Ce●s o● Mourning I have been.  
And, what contentments God bestowed hath,  
When I have walked the solitary path  
Of Disrespect; (assaulted by those fears,  
Which oft affront us in this Vale of tea●es)  
O● what prevailing hopes I have possessed,  
When I, beyond all hope, have seemed oppressed.  
For, vulgar men, do such expressions hold  
To be but idle Paradoxes, told  
By those, who grown distempered, through some gri●f  
Vent melancholy passions, past belief.  
And as our Upland Peasants, from the shores  
Beholding how the Sea swells, foams, and roars,  
Iud●e foolishly, that ●v'ry Seaman raves,  
Who talks of mirth and safety on the waves:  
So, they will fond pass their doom on me,  
Who strangers to the Seas o● Sorrow be.  
But, though the world allow not what I say,  
Yet, that the Love of God, proclaim I may;  
That, I may justify him in his Word;  
That for mine own avail I may reco●d  
What I have seen: and that experience might  
Increase my hopes, and hope put fear to flight,  
In future sufferings: here I testify,  
(And Heaven is witness, I affirm no lie)  
My soul did never feel more ravishment,  
Nor ever tasted of more true content,  
Then when my heart, nigh broke with secret pain,  
Hath borne as much as e'er it could sustain;  
And struggled with my passions, till it had  
Attained to be excellently sad.  
Yea, when I tears have poured out, where none  
Was witness of my grief but God alone,  
He hath infused pleasures into me,  
Which seldom can in public tasted be.  
Such Grief is Comforts Mother. And I mow  
Oft times with mirth, what I in tears did sow.  
Before my eyes were dried; I have had  
More cause of singing then of being sad.  
The Lamp in darkest places gives most light;  
And truest joys arise from Sorrow's night.  
My Cares ar● Blessed Thistles, unto me,  
W●ich wholesome are, although the● bitter be:  
And though their leaves with prick● be overgrown▪  
(Which pain me) yet their flowers are full of down,  
Whereon my head lies easy when I sleep:  
And I am never saddest when I weep.  
Yet, long it was before I could attain  
This Mystery: Nor doth it appertain  
To all. For, even as Sarah had not leave  
Within her body Isaac to conceive,  
(Which laughter signifies) until in her  
Those customs ●ailed which in women are:  
So, in our souls, true joys are not conceived,  
Till we by some afflictions ar● bereft  
Of carnal appetites, and cease from su●h  
Vain pleasures as affect us overmuch.  
To little purpose do they look for these  
Conceptions, who are evermore at ease.  
Such comforts are of those but rarely found,  
Whose wheel of Fortune never runneth round▪  
No soul can apprehend what maketh glad  
The grieved heart, but his that grief hath had,  
And various interchanges: nor can he  
Who knows the joys that in such sorrows be  
As these I mean, a true contentment take  
In any merriment, this world can make:  
(No not in all her pleasures) if among  
Her sweets, there should be sharpness wanting long.  
For (being fearful that his bodies rest  
The souls true peace might secretly molest)  
His mirth would make him dull: his being jolly  
(As worldlings are) would make him melancholy:  
And (if no other cause be thought upon)  
Would grieve, because the sense of grief were gone.  
Whilst I have galloped on in that Career,  
Which youth, in freedom, so affecteth here;  
And had the most delightful blandishment,  
My youth could yeed me for my hearts content:  
When I in handsome robes have been arrayed,  
(My Tailor, and my Mercer being paid)  
When daily I on change of dainties fed;  
Lodged, night by night, upon an easy bed,  
In lordly Chambers; and had therewithal  
Attendants forwarder than I to call,  
Who brought me all ●hings needful: when at hand▪  
Hounds, Hawks, and Horses were at my command:  
When choose I did my walks, ●n hills, in valleys,  
In Grove●, near Springs, or in sweet garden allies▪  
Reposing either in a natural shade,  
Or in neat Arbours, which by Art were made:  
When I m●ght have required without denial,  
The Lut●, the Organ, or deepe-sounding Viol●,  
To cheer my spirits; with what else beside  
Was pleasant: when my friends did this provide  
Without my cost or labour: Nay, when all  
Those pleasures I have shared, which be●all  
In praises, or kind welcomings, among  
My dearest friends; my soul retained nor long  
Nor perfect rest, in those imperfect things:  
But, often drooped amid their promisings,  
Grew dull, and sickly: and, chose  
Hath pleased been in want, ●and miseries.  
Fo●, when long time, even all alone they laid me,  
Where every outward comfort was denayed me▪  
To many cares and wants unknown obtruded;  
From fellowship of all mankind excluded;  
Exposed to slanderous censures, and disgrace;  
Subjected to contempts, and usage base;  
With Tortures threatened, and what those attends;  
By Great-men frowned on; blamed of my Friends;  
Insulted on by Foes; and almost brought  
To that for which their malice chief sought:  
Even then, my spirits mounted to their height,  
And my Contentment slew her highest flight.  
In those di●easings, I more joy received,  
Then can from all things mortal be conceived.  
In that contemned estate, so much was cleared  
My Reason's eye; and God so bright appeared  
To my dim-sighed Faith; that, lo, he turned  
My Griefs to Triumphs Yea, me thought, I scorned  
To labour for assistance from abroad,  
Or beg for any favour, but from God.  
I feared not that which others thought I feared;  
Nor felt I pain, in that which sharp appeared:  
But, had such inward quiet in my breast,  
Till outward ease made way to my unrest;  
That, all my Troubles seemed but a Toy.  
Yea, my Affliction so increased my joy,  
That more I doubted loss of my content,  
By losing of my close imprisonment,  
Then ever I can fear the body's thrall,  
Or any mischief which attend it shall.  
For, as if some Antipathy●rose ●rose  
Betwixt the pleasures of the world, and those  
Enjoyed then; I found true joys begin  
To issue ou●, as they were entering i●.  
Ti●l others brought me hopes of my Release,  
I scarcely held it worth my hopefulness.  
I had no frighting dream; no waking care:  
I took no thought for meat, nor what to wear;  
I slighted frowns, and I despised the threat  
Of such as threatened, were they mean or great▪  
I laughed at dreadful Rumours, and disdained  
Of any sufferings to have then complained,  
I valued not a jot the vulgar doom,  
Nor what men prated might of me become.  
I minded no such trifles, wherewith you,  
And I, and others, are oft busied now:  
But, being, as it were exiled, then,  
From living in the world, with other men,  
'twixt God, and mine own Conscience, to and fro,  
My thoughts, in a quotidian walk, did go.  
With Contemplations, I was then inspired,  
Beseeming one that wholly was retired.  
I thought, like him, that was to live al●●e;  
I did like him, that had to do with none.  
And, of all outward actions left the care  
Unto the world, and those who lived there,  
Nor hath God only pleased been to show  
What comforts from a private grief may flow,  
But, that a new experience might be taught me,  
He to the house of Publike-s●rrow brought me  
In this late Pestilence▪ And, there I saw  
Such inward joy commixed with outward awe;  
Things bitter with such sweetnesses allayed;  
Such pleasures, into sorrow's cup convaid;  
Such fi●me- assurance, in the greatest dangers;  
Such f●endlines, when others friends were strangers;  
Such freedom in restraint; such ●ase in pain;  
Such life in death, and every fear so vain,  
(Which outwardly affrights) that Pleasure's Court  
Would half be robbed of her large resort,  
(And stand less visited,) if men could see  
What profits in the Cells of Sorrow be.  
For, he that knew what wisdom there is had,  
Would say that mirth were foolish, laughter mad:  
That ●ase perpetual bringeth endless pain:  
That carnal joy arrives at hope in vain:  
That, from all outward perils●o ●o be free,  
M●y prove most perilous▪ that, health may be  
The d●adl'est sickness: that, our pleasures are  
But pitfalls▪ our security a snare;  
And, that sometimes those things to which we run,  
May bane us more, than those we s●eke ●o shun.  
I found it so. And, in my blamed slay,  
(Whilst others f●om the Plague made haste away)  
I gained some renewings of that ●es●▪  
Whereof I h●d been formerly possessed.  
It forced foll●, further to depart:  
It brought God's mercies nearer to my heart:  
Brave combats in my soul did then begin,  
Which I took courage from, and pleasure in.  
New trials of my Frailty did befall;  
And, of God's love, I had new p●oo●es withal.  
In all my discontentments, such contents,  
And of God's workings, such experiments  
Vouchsafed were; that crowned should I live,  
With all those glorious wreathes that King● can g●ve,  
And had by them obtained each happiness,  
Which worldling's in their greatness do● possess;  
I would not sell the comfort of my s●ay  
For that, and all which those imagine may.  
Nor do I overprise the same, although,  
The ignorance of some will think I do:  
For, it hath left within me, ever since,  
Of God's firm love, so strong a confidence,  
That, whatsoever accidents betid,  
I hope to stand the better fortified  
Whilst here I live: and that no time to come  
Can send me to a place, so perilsome,  
That I shall fear it, or, to undergo  
The dreadfullest perils man can fall into;  
If that my calling do oblige me to it,  
Or God, in justice, m●ke me undergo it.  
In other cases, I expect no mo●e,  
But, rather, less imboldning then be●ore.  
For, he that any dangerous task assumes,  
Without good warrant, foolishly presum●s;  
Tempts God; and justly perisheth, unless  
The ve●le of Mercy hide his wilfulness.  
Yea, they who over desperately have dared  
Bold things at first; at last have basely feared,  
Re●enting their foolhardiness▪ in vain,  
When hope was lost, of turning ba●k again.  
For, though from dangers, griefs, and miseries,  
Far greater comforts oftentimes arise,  
Then from prosperity (if we attend  
God● pleasure, and accept what he doth send)  
Y●t, o● themselves, nor pains, nor pleasures can  
Felicitate; nor is the wit of man  
So perfect, that precisely he doth know  
His own just temper, or his nature so,  
As to appoint himself, what will be needing  
Of weal, or woe, (nought wanting, or exceeding)  
And therefore, as some man hath by affecting  
Ease, wealth, or temporal fame, (without respecting  
God's pleasure) often perished by that  
Which his unbounded will ha●h reached at;  
So, they who shall that ●ase or wealth contemn  
(Which God by lawful means doth offer them)  
And they, who shall unthankfully refuse,  
Of any outward blessing, means to use,  
(Through discontent, self trust, or wilful pride)  
When they might honestly those means provide▪  
Even both of these are guilty of offence,  
Against the wise eternal Providence:  
And are in danger to be l●ft of God,  
In those misleading p●ths which th●y have trod.  
These things I mused; and in heart revolved  
A thousand more, before I was resolved  
To keep in London, where m●n draw no breath  
But that which menaced the body's death.  
And, seeing▪ many have condemned the fact.  
As an unwar●antabl●, foolish act:  
Since, i● may teach them to forbear to give  
Their Verdict, till they Evidence receive:  
Since, thus to mention it, a m●ane● may be,  
To build again the like Resolves in me  
When ●uture peril so requireth it;  
And when, perhaps, this mind, I may forget:  
Yea, since the manner of it, may, perchance,  
Deliver others from some ignorance,  
And help their Christian Resolution's out,  
When they are thralled with carnal fear, or doubt:  
Even for these causes, (and to glorify  
The power of God in this my victory)  
I will relate what Reason's m●de me stay:  
What ●opes they were, which drove my fears away:  
And, with what circumstances, I obtained  
That knowledge, which my shaking Faith maintained.  
When I perceived the PESTILENCE to rage  
In every street, nor sparing sex, nor age;  
How from their City-hive, like Bees in May,  
The fearful Citizens did swarm away:  
How fast our Gentry hasted to be gone:  
How often I was urged and called upon,  
To bear them company: what safeties were  
By absence promised; what great terrors here  
My death did m●nace: how, by timely flight  
I might behold my Country with delight:  
How nothing could be gotten by ●y stay,  
But wants, and new afflictions every day:  
With such like disadvantages, which brought,  
A hundred other muse to my t●oug●t.  
They made it seem, a while, well wor●h reproving,  
To stay, a minute, longer from removing▪  
But, than my Conscience also did begin  
To draw such powerful Motives, from within▪  
And, to propose before my understanding  
Such Reasons, my departure countermanding,  
As made me stagger, and new doubts to make,  
What course it best behoved me to take.  
At first, I thought by counsel from the Wise,  
To build up my Resolves, and to advise  
By their opinions what I ●hould pursue;  
But, of the gravest I perceived so few  
Who could advise themselves; that I grew more  
Divided by their counsels, than before.  
I saw such foolishness, and such distractions,  
Appear among them in their words and actions;  
That I perceived they had enough to do,  
Their own particulars to look unto.  
Then, guided by example would I be;  
But, that I quickly found no Rule ●or me;  
For, they who in opinion do consent,  
Oft differ, in ●he active Precedent.  
And some, who have a tongue the truth to say,  
Have wanted grace to walk the safest way.  
Beside, men's actions, which indifferent are,  
May foolish, wise, or bad, or good appear,  
As their unknown occasions are who do them;  
And, small respect is to be had unto them,  
By way of Precedent, till we can find  
Their outward motives, and their secret mind▪  
This heeding; and still waxing more molested,  
With differing thoughts, and reasons undigested,  
I knew no better way, then to repair  
For counsel unto God, ●y humble Prayer;  
Beseeching his direction, how to take  
That course, which for his glory▪ most should make.  
And he (I think) was please● to suggest,  
That if I asked my Conscience what was bes●,  
His Word and Spirit would inform her so,  
That she should show me what was best to do.  
Then, from the noise of other men's persuasions,  
(From self-conceit, and from those vain occasions,  
Which bring disturbances) I did retire,  
God's pleasure, of my Conscience, to inquire.  
Who, finding in my breast a strong contention  
'twixt Faith and Reason; and, how their dissension  
Was fi●st to be composed (that I might  
The sooner understand the truth aright)  
She called a Court within me; summoned thither  
Those Powers, and all those Faculties together,  
Which Tenants a●e in chief u●to the Soul:  
Their faulty inclinations did control:  
And, that she might not without profit chide,  
Some ill advised courses rectified.  
Then willed she FAITH and REASON to debate  
Their Cause at large: and, that which they, of late,  
Had urged confusedly within my breast,  
She willed them, into Method, to digest:  
That so, my judgement might the better see,  
To whether part I should inclined be  
They both o●e●'d. And, REASON (who supposed  
Delay bred danger) hastily composed  
Those many strong persuasions, wherewithal  
She did my person from the City call;  
Before my Conscience, them in order laid,  
And (as half angry) thus me thought she said.  
What meanest thou, thus fond, out of season,  
To show thy boldness in contempt of Reason?  
Why art thou always these mad courses taking?  
Thy Lines, and Actions, Paradoxes making?  
Why thus pursuest thou what to ruin tends,  
To glad thy foes, and discontent thy friends?  
By making wild adventures, to the blame  
Of thy blind Faith, and my perpetual sh●me?  
Is't not enough, that by thy little caring  
To humour Fools, and by thy over daring  
To ●eard proud Vices, thou h●st lately cros●  
Thy way to riches, and preferment lost?  
Is't not enough, that when thou dost become  
The scorn of Foole●, thou wert delivered from  
A m●●ked Hate, even in that day, and place,  
Which Malice had assigned for thy disgrace?  
And sawst the shame of that unjust Intention  
Alight on him who plotted that Invention?  
Is't not enough, that thou escape● hast  
Through many wants and perils undisgraced,  
When thy adventurous Muse drew down upon thee  
Those Troubles which were like to have undone thee?  
Suffice not these, unless thou now assay  
A needless act? and fool thy life away  
By tempting Heaven, in wilful staying there,  
Where, in thy face grim death doth always stare?  
Look what thou d●st, and w●ll observe ●hine errors,  
For, thou art round about, enclosed with terrors.  
And if thou be not stupid thou mayst see  
That there is cause thou shouldst affrighted be.  
Dost thou not smell the vapours of the Gr●ve?  
Dost thou not hear thy plague-sicke neighbours rave?  
Dost thou not taste infection in the Air?  
Dost thou not view sad objects of despair?  
Dost thou not feel thy vital powers assailed?  
Dost thou not find thy spirits often quailed?  
Or with thy judgement hast thou lost thy sense,  
That thou dost make no greater speed from hence?  
Mark there, how fast with Corpses they do throng▪  
See yonder, how the Shadows, pass along.  
Behold, just now, a man before thee dies:  
Behind thy back, another breathless lies.  
That Bell, now ringing, soundeth out the Knell  
Of him, whom thou didst leave, last evening, well.  
Lo, he that for his life, lies gasping, there,  
Is one of those who thy companions were  
This very morning. And, see, see, the Man  
That's talking to thee, looketh pale, and wan,  
Is sick to death; and, if thou do not run  
For help, will die before his tale be done.  
Yet, art thou no● afraid? I prithee, tell  
Why mightst thou not have been that man as well?  
Though he this minute hath prevented thee,  
Why mayst not thou, the next that follows be?  
Why shouldst not thou as quickly drop away,  
Since, fl●sh and blood thou art, as frail as they?  
What can thy speedy dissolution hinder,  
Since thy complexion is as apt as tinder  
To take that Flame? And, if it seize thee must,  
What art thou better, than a heap of dust?  
There is no Constitution, Sex, Degree,  
Or Age of man, from this contagion free.  
Nor canst thou get an Antidote to fit  
For all Infection, though, perhaps, thy wit  
Could learn thy temper so, as not to wrong●  
Thy health, by things too weak, or over strong.  
For, men oft change th● temper they should hold,  
Are sometime hot; sometime again are cold▪  
One while are sprightly, otherwhile are dull;  
Are now too empty, and anon too full:  
That, 'tis a doubtful, and a curious act,  
To add a just proportion, and subtract  
(In using outward means of preservation)  
According to the bo●ies variation.  
And, many, therein failing, lose their lives,  
By wrong, or misapplyed Preservatives.  
Thou shalt have, therefore, but uncertain hopes  
From Druggist's, or Apothecary shops.  
To warrantize thy health▪ if thou on those  
In staying here, thy confidence repose.  
And sure, thou neither harbor'st such a thought,  
That, thou of any better s●uffe art wrought  
Then other men: nor trustest unto Charms,  
To keep off this Disease from doing harms:  
For, those unhallowed Medicines, and impure,  
Breed greater Plagues, than those they seem to cure.  
Nor art thou, of that Brotherhood, which sees  
The Book of God's particular Decrees;  
And Gipsy like (by heathenish Palmistry,  
Or by the lines of Physiognomy)  
Conjectures dareth not alone to give,  
Who of this Plague shall dye, or who shall live:  
But also wickedly, presumes to t●ll  
Which man shall go to heaven, and which to hell:  
Of these I know thou art not. For, as yet  
I hope thou hast not so forgone thy wit:  
To credit their illuding profanations,  
Which are but fantosmes of illuminations  
Begot in these late Ages (by mischance)  
Betwixt much pride, and zealous ignorance.  
Thou dost not think thy merits greater are  
Then other men's, that God thy l●f● should spare.  
Nor canst thou hope thy safety to possess,  
For that thy follies or thy sins are less.  
Since if thou hadst but one time been misled,  
Thy life for that one time were so●fei●ed.  
And, this Disease, with outward ma●ks, doth strike.  
The Righteous, and the Wicked, both alike.  
Then, since thou art a Sinner, and art sure,  
That sin did first this Pestilence procure:  
Since thou mayst also justly say with grief,  
That, thou of all transgressor's art the chief:  
Since thy offences some of those have been,  
Which h●lpe to bring this great Infection in:  
Nay; since it may be (if thou search thy heart)  
That thou a principal among them art,  
Who from the Ship must jonas-like be thrown,  
Before this Tempest will be over blown▪  
Why doth it not thy guilty soul dismay,  
And make thee hasten more to fly away?  
It may be thou dost vainly hope for Fame,  
By doing this. Oh! what avails the same,  
When thou art raked up quite void of sense,  
Among the slaughters of the Pestilence?  
What will it profit when thou sleepest in clay,  
Some▪ few should praise, and some lament thy stay?  
Some heed it not? Some make a mock thereat?  
Some deem thee foolish, others desperate?  
Some, judge thy tarrying might for trifles be?  
Some, for thy best intention slander thee?  
Or with base trash thy breathless Muse belie▪  
Or, misreport thy dying, if thou dye?  
For, if thou chance to perish in this Place,  
These ways, and other means to thy disgrace,  
Thy Foes will find▪ and in thy fall contented,  
Accomplish what, thy life might have prevented.  
But say to scape alive thy Lott it be;  
A troop of other perils wait on thee.  
Thou knowst not what extremities may fall,  
Nor how thy heart may struggle therewithal.  
Such Poverty upon this Town may seize,  
ere God assuage the rage of this Disease,  
That means may sail thee; and before supply  
Thy friends can send thee, thou mayst famished lie:  
For they who now affect thee, and with whom  
Thou shal●, perhaps, to live resolved become,  
Even they may perish in this Pest, and leave thee  
To strangers whose affections will deceive thee:  
In time of health, but slenderly befriend thee:  
In sickness, to a lonely Room commend thee:  
Make spoil of what is thine, and senseless be  
Of helping, and of all regard of thee.  
And then it will, perchance, afflict thy mind  
That thou unto thyself wert so unkind,  
As to neglect th●t wholesome Country Air▪  
Whereto thy friends invited thy repair.  
Thou mayst remember, when it is too late,  
Those pleasures, and that happy healthy state  
Thou mightst have had: A●d wi●h how much respect  
Thou shouldst have lived with those that thee affect;  
A comfort to thy Parents, who with fear,  
D●e sorrow for thy needless lingering here:  
For, them thou leavest, an● some friends beside,  
(To live, 'twixt hope and fear, unsatisfied  
By this thy doing) whom thou dost abuse,  
If that which may discomfort them thou choose.  
And, when they shall thy wilfulness condemn,  
With what good Reason's wil● thou answer them?  
Thy Dwelling is not here; nor is thy stay  
Compelled by Affairs that urge it may.  
Thou hast nor public neither private charge;  
But, mayst in any place, go walk at large.  
The wo●ld conceiveth not the least suspicion,  
That thou art either Surgeon, or Physician,  
(Whose Art may stand this place in any s●eed;)  
Or that thy friends will thy attendance need.  
For thou canst neither Broths nor Caudles make,  
Nor drenches good enough for horse to take.  
Thou hast no Calling, that may warrantize  
This boldness: neither can thy wit devise  
How thou will answer God, f●r daring thu●  
An act so needless, and so perilous.  
Consider well, that there are pains in death;  
Consider, that when thou ha●t lost thy breath,  
Thy Flesh, the dear companion of thy Soul,  
Shall be rejected as unclean, and foul,  
And, lodge within a Grave, contemned and vile,  
Which might have lived esteemed, yet a while.  
Consider, that thou hast not an estate  
Of being, which is base or desperate;  
But such, as few on earth possess a better,  
Though each one, that hath aught, enjoys a greater.  
Consider, that thou dost endanger now  
The blessing of long life. Consider, how  
Thou mightst have lived to a larger measure  
Of riches, of preferment, or of pleasure;  
And profited thy Country, whereunto  
Thy Death, or Sickness, will no service do.  
Nay, if thou now miscarry, where will be  
Those honest hopes which late possessed thee?  
To ●hose thy Studies who an end shall add,  
Which but a while ago, beginning had?  
And, being left unfinished, make the pain  
And hours, upon them spent, to be in vain?  
With somewhat thou endued art, whereby  
Thou ma●st thy blessed Maker glorify;  
Thyself advantage, and a joy become  
To such as well affect thee; and against whom  
(If thus thyself thou separate) thou shalt  
Commit a most inexpiable fault.  
Oh! therefore, I beseech thee, wary be,  
To think what service God requires of thee:  
Think, what thou w●st thyself; and call to mind,  
That some well-willers thou mayst leave behind,  
Whose hopes thou shouldst not wilfully bereave,  
(Whose loves thou shouldst not unrequited leave)  
By hazarding thy Life, which is a debt  
To their deservings. For, thou knowst not, yet,  
How that may grieve thy soul, or fill thy head  
With troubled sancies, o● thy dying-bed.  
I cannot make discovery, by all  
My faculties, and powers rational,  
What work tho● mayst imagine should be done  
T●at's worthy of the hazard thou dost run.  
Nor can, as yet, my understanding reach  
(What hope soever Faith may please to preach)  
To those Felicities; which after death  
Her supernatural Doctrines promiseth.  
Nor find I suc● assurances, a● may  
Preserve thee unaffrighted in thy stay.  
For when within my Natural Scale I place  
Those Arguments, and Promises of Grace,  
Which Faith allegeth; they so airy prove,  
That they my Balance very little move.  
Yea, such transcendent things declareth she▪  
As they me thinks should so distemper thee,  
That doubts and terrors rather should possess  
Thy Soul, than hopes of real happiness;  
Since what in Death, or after Death shall come,  
Are things, that Nature is estranged from.  
Fly therefore, this great peril. Seek a place  
Where thou mayst plead more safely of thy Case:  
And, since thy God, with Reason, thee doth bless,  
Now, most thou needest it, be not reasonless.  
All this (and what the carnal wit of man  
Object, in such an undertaking can)  
Did REASON urge, to make my stay appear  
An act improvident, and full of fear:  
And what her seeming rightful c●use advances,  
Was uttered with such dreadful circumstances,  
That she did hal●e persuade me to confess,  
My Resolution would be foolishness.  
But, when my REASON had no more to speak,  
My FAITH began: & though her strength was weak,  
(Because my frailties had enfeebled her)  
Yet, than I felt her with more vigour stir,  
Then in less perils. For, she blew aside  
Those fogs wherewith my heart was terrified:  
Made clear my judgement: and (as having wa●gh'd  
The speech foregoing) thus, me thought, she said.  
How wise is REASON in an Ethnic School,  
And, in divine proceedings, what a fool?  
How many likely things she mus●er can,  
To startle and amaze a natural man,  
W●ich, when I am advised withal, are found  
But panic fears, and terrors without ground!  
And yet, how often doth blind Ignoranc●,  
Above my reach her shallowness advance?  
Or else of madness, wickedly condemn  
My wisdom, and my safest paths contemn?  
Yet be not thou (my Soul) deceived by  
The foolishness of humane Sophistry.  
But, since by thy Afflictions, thou hast got  
Experience, which the world attaineth not;  
Give heed to me, and I will make thee know  
Those things which carnal Reason cannot show.  
Yea make thee by my power more certain be  
Of that which mortals can nor hear nor see,  
Then of the plainest objects that appear  
Unto the sense of corporal eye or ear:  
And though my promise, or my counsel seem  
To vulgar judgements, but of mean esteem,  
I'll so enable the● those sears to bide,  
Wherewith the worldly-wise are terrified;  
And, teach thee such contentedness to gain,  
Though in Death's gloomy shades thou dost remain:  
That, thou (without all doubtings) shalt perceive,  
Thou shouldst not this afflicted City leave.  
And Flesh and Blood, with wonder, shall confess●  
That Faith hath power to teach men fearlessness,  
I● perils; which do make their hearts to ache,  
Who scoff at her, and part with Reason take.  
It cannot be denied that this Place  
Yields dread enough, to make the boldest face  
To put a paleness on, unless the mind  
Be over much to senselessness inclined:  
Because, we naturally abhor to see  
Such loathed objects of mortality.  
'Tis also true, that there is no defence  
To guard the body from this Pestilence,  
Within the compass of man's pow●r or wit:  
Nor can thy merit so prevail with it,  
But that (for aught thou knowest) thou mayst f●ll  
The growing number of Death's weekly- Bill.  
And what of that? whìlst I befriend thee shall,  
Ca● such a common danger thee appall?  
Shall that, which heath'nish men, and women bear,  
(Yea tender infants) without shows of fear,  
Amate thy spirit? shall the drawing nigh  
Of that, from which thou has● no means to ●●ye,  
(And which thou walkest toward, every day,  
(With seeming stoutness) fright thee now away?  
Is Death so busy grow●e in London streets,  
That h● with no man in th● Country me●ts?  
Beleeve●● thou, the number he hath slain  
Hath added any thing unto the pain?  
Or, hast thou lately apprehended more  
Deaths fearful gast lin●sse, then heretofore,  
That in this time of trial thou shouldst find  
Thy Soul to slavish Cowardice inclined?  
Death is that Path, which every man must tread;  
A●d, whe● thou shalt descend among the dead,  
Thou go'st but thither where thy fathers be,  
And whither, all that live shall follow thee.  
Death is that Haven, where t●y Bark shall cas●  
Her hopeful Anchor, and lie moored fast,  
Exempted from those furious winds and seas▪  
Which in thy heavenly voyage, thee diseas●.  
Death i● th● Iaile-deliv'ry of ●he Soul:  
Thy joyful year of jubilee: thy Goal:  
The Day that ends thy sorrows, and thy sins;  
And that, wherein, best happiness begins.  
A lawful act, then wherefore shouldst thou fear  
To prosecute; although thy death it were?  
Full oft, have I enabled thee to bide  
The brunt of dreadful storms, unterrifide▪  
And, when thy dastard Reason (not espying  
That heavenly Game, at which thy Faith was flying)  
Disheartened grew; I did thy body free  
From every peril which enclosed thee:  
So working, that those thin●s thy praise became,  
Which Malice had projected for thy shame;  
And, common Reason, who supposed thee mad,  
Did blush to see how little wi● she had.  
Yet, now again, how foolishly she tries  
To cast new fogs b●fore thy judgements eyes?  
●hat childish Bugbears hath she mustered ●ere,  
To scar t●y senses with a causeless flare?  
Of those loathed Objects wherefore doth she tell,  
Which uox the sight, the hearing, and the smell?  
Since, when the utmost of it shall be said,  
All is but Death; which can but strike thee dead.  
And when that's done, thou shalt (by me revived)  
Enjoy a better life than thou has● lived.  
If those hobgoblin terrors of the grave,  
(Wherewith mere natural men affrighted have  
Their troubled souls) deter thee from that path,  
Whereto the will of God enjoined hath;  
To thee (oh! Soul) how dreadful would it be  
If WAR, with all her fears enclosed thee?  
Nay, if such common terrors thee amaze,  
How wouldst thou quake, if in a general blaze,  
The world should flame about thee? (as it may,  
Perhaps, before thou see another day)  
Sure, if these Scarecrows do det●rre thee so,  
Thou scarce wilt welcome (as thou oughtest to do)  
That Moment when it comes; nor so rejoice,  
As they, who long to hear the Bridegroom's voice.  
Here therefore stay, and practise to inure  
Thy soul to trials; that thou mayst endure  
All changes, which in after times may come:  
And wait with gladness, for the Day of Doom.  
Seek here, by holy dread, to purge away  
Those Crimes which heap up terrors for that day.  
Endure the scorching of this gentle fire▪  
To purify thy heart from vain desire.  
Learn here, the death of righteous men to dye;  
That thou mayst live with such eternally.  
H●re, exercise thy Faith, and watch, and pray,  
That when thy body shall be mixed with clay  
The frightful Trumpet, whose amazing sound  
Shall startle H●ll, and shake earth's massy Round.  
May make thee leap with gladness from thy grave,  
And no sad horrors in thy Conscience have.  
What canst thou hope to purchase here below,  
That thou shouldst life unwillingly for go?  
Since, there is nothing which thou canst possess,  
Whose sweetness is not marred with bitterness:  
Nor any thing so safe, but that it may,  
To th●e, become a mischief, many a way?  
If honourable thou mightst live to grow,  
That honour may effect thy overthrow.  
And (as it makes of others) make of thee  
A thing as blockish, as bruit creatures be▪  
If Rich; those Riches may thy life betray;  
Choke up thy virtues, and then fly aw●y.  
If Pleasure follow thee; that pleasing vain  
May bring thy soul to everlasting pain:  
Yea, that which most thou longest to enjoy,  
May all the pleasures of thy life destroy.  
Seek therefore true co●t●n●ment where it lies,  
And fear not every Baby's fantasies.  
If Life thou love; Death is that entering in  
Where life which is eternal doth begin.  
There, what thou most desirest is enjoyed;  
And, Death itself, by dying is destroyed.  
Though length of life, a blessing be confessed,  
Yet, length of days in sorrow is not best.  
Although the Sailor, sea-room doth require,  
To reach the harbour is his chief desire:  
And, though 'tis well our debts may be delayed,  
Yet, we are best at ease when they are paid.  
If ●itle●, thou aspire unto: Death brings  
The Faithful, to become immortal Kings:  
Whose glory passeth earthly pomp, as far  
As Phoebus doth outshine the Morningstar.  
Desirest thou a pleasant healthful dwelling?  
By Death thou gainest a Country so excelling;  
That, plenty of all useful things is there,  
And all ●hose objects that delightful are.  
A golden pavement thou sh●lt walk upon;  
And lodge in Buildings walled with precious stone.  
If in rich Garments to be clothed thou seek,  
The Persian Monarches never had the like:  
For, Purity itself thy Robe shall be;  
And like the Stars, thy Crown shall s●ine on thee.  
Hast thou enjoyed those companions here,  
Whose love and fellowship delightful are?  
Thou shalt, when thou from sight of those art gone,  
Of that high Order be installed one,  
Which never did false Brother entertain;  
Whereof, even God himself is Sovereign:  
And in whose company thou shalt possess  
All perfect, dear, and lasting friendliness.  
Yea, there even those whom thou on earth hast lo●ed  
●n●●se time (with such love as is approved)  
Thou shalt enjoy again: and not alon●  
Their friendship; but the love of every one  
Of those blessed men and women, who both were,  
And are, and shall be, till our judge appear.  
Hath any mortal beauty pleased thee so,  
That, from her presence thou ●rt loath to go?  
Thou shalt in stead of those poor imperfections,  
Wh●r●on thou settlest here unsure affections▪  
The Fountain of all Beauties, come to see  
(Within his lovely bosom lodged be)  
And know (when thou on him hast fixed thine eye●)  
That, all earth's Beauties are deformities.  
To these, and happinesses, greater far  
Then by the heart of man conceived are,  
Death maketh passage. And, how grim soe'er  
He may to those that stand aloof appear;  
Yet, if thou bide unmoved in thy place,  
Till he within his arms do thee embrace;  
Thou sh●lt perceive that who so timely dieth,  
Enjoys contentments which this life denyeth.  
Thy fear of painfulness in death is vain;  
In Death is eas●; in Life, alone, is pain.  
Man makes it dreadful by his own inventions▪  
By causeless doubts, and groundless apprehensions.  
But, when it comes, it brings of pain, no more  
Than Sleep, to him that restless was before.  
Thy Souls departure, from the Flesh, doth maze,  
And thee afflicteth more than there is cause:  
For, of his sting, thy Saviour, Death despoiled:  
And, fears, and dangers from the Grave exiled.  
Thou losest not try Body when it dies;  
Nor doth it perish, though it putrifies.  
For, when the time appointed, it hath lain,  
It shall be raised from the dust again,  
And, in the s●ead of this corrupted one,  
Thy Soul, a glorious Body shall put on.  
But hadst thou not a Faith which might procure the●  
Such comforts, and such life in death assure thee:  
Or, though thou shouldst, by dying, be possessed  
Of nothing else, but of a senseless rest:  
methinks thy ●arnall Reason should, for that,  
Persuade thee rather to be desperate,  
And stay, and seek for Death, e'●e languish in  
Perpetual sorrows, such as thine have bi●.  
For, if to God-ward, ●oy thou foelest not,  
What comfort to the world-ward ●ast thou got,  
Which may desirous make thee to delay,  
Or linger out thy life another day?  
'Tis true that God hath given thee a share  
I● all thos● Pleasures, that good pleasures are;  
And (to the Giver's glory be i● spoken)  
H●e hath bestowed on thee as many a ●ok●n  
Of his abundant love, as he bestows  
On any, with so sew external shows.  
For even of outward things he doth impart  
As much as fits the place in which thou art;  
With full as many pleasures as may serve,  
Thy Patience, in thy sufferings, to preserve:  
And, when for Rest, and Plenties, thou art fitter,  
I know, he will not make thy cup so bitt●r.  
But if thou live for outwared pleasures merely;  
By living thou dost buy them over dearly.  
For (if thy peace in God were s●t aside)  
So many ways thou hast been crucified,  
That some would think thy Fortune (if they had it)  
Most bitter; though most sweet thy hopes have made it.  
H●re, but a Pilgrimage thou dost possess,  
I● wand'ring, and perpetual restlessness.  
Like Travellers, in sunshine and in rain,  
Both d●y and wet, and dry and wet again.  
With rest, each Morning, well refresh● and merry▪  
A●d, every Evening, full of grief, and weary.  
To Vanity, in bondage thou dost lie,  
Still beaten with new storms of Misery;  
And, in a path to which thou art a stranger,  
Assaulted with variety of Danger.  
His Face, sometime, is hid, whence comforts flow,  
And, men and devils, seek thy overthrow.  
Sin multiplies upon thee, every day:  
Thy vital powers, will more and more decay:  
Wealth, honour, friends, and what thou best dost love,  
Doth leave, deceive thee, or thy torment prove;  
Man's very Body burdens him; and brings  
Unto itself a thousand torturings▪  
Thy Heart, with many Think is perplexed:  
Yea, by thine own Affections thou art vexed:  
And (though by overcoming them at last,  
Thy soul hath comfort when the fight is past,)  
Thou hast perpetual conflicts, which requir●  
Continual watchfulness: for, no Desire  
Or natural Passion, ever did molest  
The heart of Man, that strives not in thy breast.  
In every Pleasure, somewhat lurks to scar thee▪  
In every Profit, somewhat to ensnare thee:  
Whole armies of Afflictions swarm about thee,  
Some fight within thee; some assail without thee:  
And, that which thou conceivest shall relieve thee,  
Becometh oft another means to grieve thee.  
Yea, thine own thoughts, thy spe●ches, and thine actions,  
Occasion discontentments, and distraction:  
And all the portion which thou dost inherit,  
Yields nought, but perturbations of the spirit.  
In Childhood, all thy pleasures were but toys;  
In heat of Youth, as fruitless were thy joys:  
Thy riper years, do nought but ripen care:  
And, imperfections, thy perfections are:  
If Old thou grow, thy griefs will aged be▪  
And, Sickness, till thou die, will live in thee.  
Thy Life's a Warfare, which must quite be done,  
ere dangers vanish, or the Field be won.  
It is a Voyage full of weariness,  
Till thou thy wished harbour dost possess:  
And, thou of no external joy canst b●ast,  
That may not e'er thy dying day be lost.  
But, truth to say, what thing dost thou possess,  
Which others thi●ke to be a happiness?  
The world allows thee little that is hers,  
And ●hee to very small esteem prefers.  
Among her Minions: but, in every place  
Endeavours to affront thee with disgrace;  
Deprives thee of thy labours, and bestows  
On Parasites, on Foo●es, and on thy Foes,  
Thy due: and with a spiteful enviousness,  
Thy best approved Studies doth suppress.  
Behold, dorothy Mask, an idle Song,  
The witless jesting of a scurrilous tongue,  
Th● capering Dancer, and the foining Fencer,  
The bold Buffoon, the sly Intelligencer;  
Those foolish raving fellows, whose delights  
Are wholly fixed on their Curs and Kites▪  
The Termly Pamphleteers, whose Dedications  
Do sooth and claw the times abominations:  
Even such ●ike things as these can purchase grace,  
And quickly compass Pension, ●ift, or Place;  
When, thy more honest Labours are abused,  
Contemned, slighted, or at best refused.  
If such a one as these forenamed, resort  
To set abroach his qualities in Court,  
He finds respect, and as an useful man,  
His Faculty, some place afford him, can.  
He soon hath entertainment. Or if not,  
Yet, something may sor his avail be got.  
A base Invention, that scarce merit may  
The reputation of a Puppet-play,  
So●e spangled Courtier, or some foolish Lord▪  
Admires, affects, and of his ow●e accord  
Prefers it to the Prince, or to the King,  
As an ingenious, or much useful thing.  
And (ten to one) if then the Author can  
But humour well his Lordship, or his man  
(That rules his Honour's wisdom) it may gain him  
Some such like Lord as that to entertain him,  
For his companion; y●a, the privy purse  
May open to him: and, be fareth worse  
Than many a Fool hath done, unl●sse e'er long▪  
He purchaseth to be enrolled among  
The best Deservers; and arise to be  
Superior to a better man than be.  
'twixt these and thee what distances appear?  
And, 'twixt your Fortunes what a space is there▪  
When thou hadst finished a Work divine,  
(As much for others profit, as for thine)  
Thou scarcely found'st a man, to make thee way  
Thy Present, at thy Sovereigns' fee● to lay.  
And when thou didst▪ No sooner laid he by  
What tendered was, but some in●urious eye  
Did quickly take thereof a partial view,  
And with detracting Censures thee pursue.  
Yea, those mere Ignorants, whose courtly wi●  
Can judge of nothing, but how clothes do fit;  
How Congees should be acted; how their Boy  
Observe them should; or some such weighty ●oy:  
Those Shreds of Compliment, patched up for things  
To fill vast Rooms in Palaces of Kings,  
(As Antiques do in Hanging) more for show▪  
Then any profit, which from them c●n flow.  
even those (scarce worth our laughing at) have pa●●  
Their dooms on that which thou presented haste;  
As if they understood it: and, as those,  
●y chance did censure, so the Censure goes.  
If these, or any such like Mountebanks,  
By slavish fawning, or by picking thanks;  
By ho●eliest services, (or worse) by cheating;  
Extorting from the poor, or by defeating  
Men honestly disposed, (or, by any  
Of those ill means, whereof this age hath many)  
Can, out of heggery, their fortunes rear▪  
To hundreds, or to thousands by the year:  
They think themselves abused, if any grudge  
O● murmur, as if they had got too much.  
But, though thou from thy childhood wert employed  
In painful studies, and hadst not enjoyed  
So much external profit, as would pay  
The charges of thy Troubles, for a day:  
(Nay, rather, hindrance hadst, and punishment,  
For that, which gave most honest men content)  
Yet (mark their dealing) when but hope there was  
Of gain to thee (which never came to pass)  
And though that gain were less than Traders can  
Allow sometimes unto a journeyman:  
Yea though it were to no man's prejudice;  
(●ut many profiting) and did arise  
By thine own labours: that small yearly summ●  
Expected for, nought, yet, but loss doth come)  
Was grumbled at; as if it had been more  
Than any ever gained heretofore;  
And would the Commonweal have prejudised,  
Had none, thereof, to frustrate thee, de●ised.  
Some, therefore (whose maliciousness is yet  
Unanswered for) themselves against thee set;  
And, by the damage of their own estate,  
Have laboured, thee and thine to ruinate.  
Some others, as injuriously, as they,  
Laid causeless Nets, to snarl thee in thy way:  
And have procured, for thy best intents,  
Reproofs, Contempts, and Close Imprisonments;  
(As rigorous as ever were inflicted,  
Of those th●t for High Treason stood convicted)  
Yea, that which might an honest wealth have won thee,  
●as that, whereby they sought to have undone thee.  
Fowl Scandals, thy best actions have attended.  
And (as if on thine Infamy depended  
The Kingdom's glory) Pamphlets false and base,  
Yea, public Ma●ques, and Plays, to thy disgrace,  
Were set abroach; till justly they became,  
To those that made, and favoured them, a shame.  
In Rhymes, and Libels, they have done thee wrongs;  
Thou hast been mentioned in their drunken Songs,  
Who nothing worse unto thy charge could lay,  
But, that, thou didst not seem so bad as they.  
Mere Strangers, who are quite unknown of thee,  
(Although they see not what thy manners be)  
Take pleasure to traduce thee, and to draw  
Those things in question, which they never saw.  
Nay, at their public meetings, few forbear  
To speak that scandal, which they think, or hear▪  
Even since this Plague began, and whilst thy hand  
Recording was that judgement on this Land;  
Thou art informed, that, Westward from this place  
(Some scores of miles) a general rumour w●●  
Both of thy biding here, and of thy death.  
And, they who said, thou hadst expired thy breath,  
(Supposing, as it seems) it could not be  
That God from this Disease would shelter thee)  
Reported also, that, of Grace forsaken,  
And, by the sin of Drunkenness o'ertaken,  
Thou brok'st thy neck. It may be those men thought,  
That when the Plague●hy ●hy life to end bade brought,  
They should have added somewhat, to have slain  
The life of good Report, which might remain.  
Nor was that aim quite void. For, (though of all  
Gross sins, the stain of t●at, lest b●ur thee shall)  
Some strait believed what malice did surmise;  
Condemned thy Virtues, for Hypocrisies.  
Made guilty all thy Lines of evil ends▪  
Used thee, as job was used by his friends▪  
Did on thy Life unchristian Censures pass▪  
Affirmed, thy Death had showed what it was;  
And, many a one that heard it, shall not know  
Until his dying day, it was not so.  
But, than they shall perceive, that most of that  
Is false, which men of others use to prate.  
But, wonder it is none, that thou among  
Some Strangers, in thy Fame hast suffered wrong:  
For, ●o, thy Neighbours (though they privy be  
To no such act as may difparage thee,  
But unto many rather, which in show,  
Appeared from a Christian mind to flow)  
Even they, in private whisper, many times  
Have taxed thee as guilty of those crimes  
Thou never perpetratedst, but dost more  
Abhor them, then do Miser's to be poor.  
And from th●se blots the more thy life is free,  
The more is theirs defiled, by slandering th●e.  
In wicked Places (where yet n●ver came  
Thy foo●) some ac●ed follies in thy name:  
That others present, knowing not thy face,  
Might spread abroad of thee, to thy disgrace,  
What others did. And, such a mischief, none  
But perfect Malice, could have thought upon.  
Thy very Prayers, and thy Charities  
Have ●●cked been, and judged hypocrisies.  
When thou wert be●● employed, thou wert s●re  
The basest imputations to endure.  
When thy intentions ha●e been most sincere,  
men's misconstructions always ha●shest were;  
And, when thy piovan action thou hadst wrought,  
Then▪ they the greatest mischief on thee brought.  
The best, and most approved of those Lays,  
By thee composed for thy Maker's praise;  
Have lately greatly multiplied thy F●es,  
And, not procured alone the spite of those  
Whom brutish Ignorance besots among  
The misconceiving and illiterate throng:  
But▪ they who on the seats of judgement sat,  
thou, and those Labours have inveighed at.  
The Learned, who should wiser men have been,  
Did censure that which they had never seen.  
Even they, who make fair shows of sancti●y,  
(God grant, it be not with hypocrisi●)  
With spightfulness, that scarce can matched be,  
Have shamefully traduced that, and thee.  
Nay, of the Clergy, some (and of the chief)  
Have with unseemly f●ry, post belief,  
So undervalued, and so vilified  
Those Labours (which the trial will abide,  
When their proud spleen is wasted) that, unless  
God had, in mercy, curbed their furiousness,  
(And by his might abated, in some measure,  
That power of acting their impe●ious pleasure)  
Their place, and that opinion they had gained,  
Of knowledge, and sincerity unfeigned,  
Had long ere this, no doubt, made so contemned  
Those Lines, and thee; that thou hadst been condemned  
Without a trial. And so true a feeling  
Hadst gained ere now, of base and partial dealing,  
That, Disconten●●ight then have urged thy stay,  
In hope this Plague, would th●t, have taken away:  
But, thou by others, hast received the ●●ings  
Of Malice▪ otherways, in other things.  
Those men, whose over-grosse and open crimes,  
Are justly taxed in thi●●●onest ●imes,  
Have by the general notice of thy name,  
Sought how to bring thee to a general shame,  
By raising causeless rumours to be blown  
Through every quarter where thy lines are known.  
For, there's no place without an envious ●are,  
And slanderous tongues be ready every where,  
To cast, with willingness, disgrace on those,  
Of whom, some good report, beforehand, goes.  
And since thou canst not answer every man,  
As he that's known in some few Townships, can;  
The falsest Rumours Men divulge of thee,  
Do soon become a common Fame to be.  
Moreover (that less cause there may appear,  
Why thou shouldst life desire, or dying fear)  
The most affected thing this world contains,  
Hath tortured thee with most heart-breaking pains.  
For, they whom thou hast loved: they to whom  
Thou didst obliged many ways become:  
Yea ●hey who knew thy faithfulness; even they,  
Have made their outward kindnesses the way  
To make thee most ingrateful seem to be,  
Yea, they have heaped more disgrace on thee,  
More griefs, and disadvantages, than all  
Thy Foes together, bring upon thee shall.  
And long pursued have, to thy vexation  
Their courses with harsh tricks of aggravation;  
Yet still pretending Love: which makes the curse,  
Of this Affliction twenty times the worse.  
I will ●ot say that thou afflicted art  
In this (by them) without thy own desert:  
For who perceives in all how he offends?  
Or thinks, that God correction causeless sends?  
Nor will I say this injury proceeds,  
Fromany Malice. For, perhaps, it breeds  
From their distempered love. And God to show  
Some needfullsecret (which thou best mayst know  
By this experiment) a while doth please,  
To make thy late Contentments thy Disease.  
Thy first Acquaintance, who did many a year  
Enjoy thy fellowship (and glad appear  
To seem thy friends) have wearied out their love,  
By length of time; and strangers now do prove.  
Thou also seest, thy new acquaintance be  
Worn out as fast as gotten. For, to thee  
Most come, for nothing but to satisfy  
Their idle fruitless curiosity:  
And, having seen, and found thee but a man,  
Their friendship ended, just as it began.  
Nay, they who all thy course of life have seen,  
And (in appearance) have persuaded been,  
So well of thy uprightness, as if naught  
Could move in them, of thee, one ●vill thought:  
These, by a little absence, or the sound  
Of some untrue Relation (wanting ground)  
Do all their good opinion sometime change;  
Suspect thy manner's, and themselves ●strange,  
So unexpectedly▪ and without cause,  
That what to judge of them it makes thee pause▪  
For they that virtuous are, but in the show,  
Do soon suspect, that all men else, are so.  
Th●se things are very bitter unto such  
Whose hearts are sensible to every touch  
Of kindness, and unkindness; and they make  
Life tedious, where they deep impression take.  
But, many other griefs thy Soul do grind;  
And thou by them, art pained in a kind  
So differing from the common sense of others,  
(Although thy patience much distemper smothers)  
That Reason might me thinks contented be,  
Thou shouldst pursue thy Death to set thee free.  
I speak not this, as if thou didst repined  
At these, or any other lots of thine:  
Nor to discourage thee, because the World  
So little of her Grace on thee hath hurled.  
For, I would have thee scorn her love; and know  
That whether sh● will favour th●e or no,  
I wil●, in thy due season, make thee rise  
To honour, by that way which me● despise:  
Even to those honours, which are greater than  
The greatest that conferred are, by men.  
And, this I mention, in reproach of them  
Whose Pride, thy humble Mufing, doth contemns:  
And ●o remember thee, how vain it were,  
To seek for life, where such harsh dealings are.  
And, as I would not have thee wish to live  
●or love of any thing, this world can give:  
So, I am loath her troubles should have power  
To make thee seek to shorten life an hour.  
But rather in contempt of all her spite,  
To lengthen it, until pale Envy quite  
Consume herself; and thou at last be sent  
From hence, victorious, crowned with content.  
I therefore, here, persuade thee not to stay▪  
That vainly thou mightst fool thy life away:  
Or, that some poor applauses may be got;  
Or, for such trifling ends as profit not;  
And, whereof, Reason her dislike infers:  
For, my opinion jumps in that, with hers.  
I do not counsel thee to cast aside  
That care▪ which teacheth wisely to provide  
For wholesome Antidotes: Or to observe  
Such courses, a● are likely to preserve  
Thy body sound: nor is it my intent,  
Thou shouldst employ, by way of compliment,  
Thy time in visiting infected friends;  
When to their comfort it little tends.  
Nor am I pleased in him that so presumes,  
Or such a frantic foolishness assumes,  
As desperately to thrust himself among  
The noisome brea●hings of a sickly throng,  
When such a danger nothing may avail:  
And, where the means of lif● will surely fail.  
Nor would I now betray thee to thy sin;  
Or work thy losses, that thy foes may win;  
Or make thee tempt thy God; or grieve thy friends▪  
Or bar thy Labours of their wished ends:  
Nor can●●t thou think thy Rea●on well hath said,  
To cast such stumbling-blockes, as she hath laid:  
For, just and comely things, I do advise;  
And, seek not Mischiefs, but their Remedies.  
A carnal Wisdom says she seeth not  
What knowledge and assurance may be got  
Of those eternal things, that objects are  
Of Christian hope. But, wherefore shouldst thou fear  
What ●lesh and Blood blasphemously hath said?  
Since, into thee already are convaid  
●●th Notions, and the real sense of that  
Which they, who would not see, do stumble at?  
Mere humane Reason cannot ●each to know  
Of many thousand Creatures here below,  
The secret natures: Do not wonder thou,  
That few celestial things perceive she can:  
But call to mind, that to be fl●shly wise,  
Is to be foolish in Truth's Mysteries.  
Give God the praise, who hath on thee bestown  
A better apprehension than thine 〈◊〉.  
Remember still, to cherish this belief;  
Let Prayer daily fet thy Faith relief:  
And be assured that I advise thee best,  
What e'er thy carnal Reason shall suggest.  
If thou suppose that thou hast aught begun,  
Which may thy Country profit, being done,  
Or honour God: proceed thou in his name,  
With cheerfulness, and finish up the same.  
For God will either give thee life to do it,  
(If cause the●e be) or call another to it  
Of better gifts▪ And, if thou grudge at this,  
Thou seekest thine own honour, more than his:  
And, though a pious purpose thou pretend,  
Thy holy shew●s have some unholy end.  
Say, thou among the multitude must fall;  
Say, they that hate thee, thereof triumph ●hall;  
Or others (out of levity) contemn  
Thy course; or thee unjustly should condemn,  
As Reason pleads? what prejudice to thee  
Wo●ld this be more, then s●ch men's pra●ses be?  
What harm is this to thee wh●n ●hou art gone?  
And hast no se●se of any wrong that's done?  
What needst thou care, if all the wo●ld suppose  
To hell thou sinkest; if thy spirit it goes  
The way to heaven? And in that narrow path  
A ●lessed being, unperceived hath?  
Pursue brave Actions, as a Christian ought,  
And, care not thou what shall of them be thought:  
(Except to rouse up other men it be,  
By making them perceive what roused thee)  
When thou dost walk uprightly, walk thou on,  
And scorn to look aside, who looks thereon:  
For▪ he's a fool (if not an hypocrite)  
That in well-doing feeleth no delight,  
Until some witness of his deeds he know,  
Or feel some praises his proud saines to blow,  
Nay, he that cannot in a virtuous deed,  
(Wherein, his Conscience, warrants to proceed)  
Persist without returning, though he should,  
Of all the world together, be controlled;  
Or, if he thought it not a favour too  
That God would call him such a work to do;  
(Yea though that for his pains, he should become  
Abhorred of all men▪ t●ll the Day of Doom)  
Even such a Man is far below that height,  
To which by perfect Virtue climb he might;  
And lose he doth, by fears that are in vain,  
The bravest honour that his Faith can gain.  
Thy Reason says, that thou a sinner art;  
And, thereupon doth urge thee to depart.  
But wherefore should the guilt of sin ●ffright  
F●●m staying, rather than from taking flight?  
For, if thou shalt remove away from hence,  
Thy guilt retaining, by impenitence,  
God hath not so his Plagues confined hither,  
But that they may pursue thee any whither.  
And whereas here, the danger, and the fear,  
Encompassing this place, might so deter,  
So mollify, and awe thy heart within thee;  
So move, and to amend thy life, so win thee,  
That God shall cleanse thy soul of every stain;  
And reconcile thee to himself again:  
Perhaps, the wicked vain securit●,  
That will attend thee whither thou shalt fly,  
May m●ke the measure of thy sins completer,  
Thy comforts fewer; t●y afflictions greater;  
When lest thou fearest, most of all disease thee;  
And keep off this, that some worse thing may seize thee:  
And, though thy Reason urge thee to beeleve,  
Thy friends may wronged be, or too much grieve,  
By this adventure: I, thy Faith, assure thee,  
That if my Motives may to stay procure thee,  
(For such good purposes as I propose)  
Thy God shall pay thy friends what ere they lose;  
Make some (by fearing what thy dangers are)  
Of their own ways to take the greater care:  
Krepe others (by preserving of them sad)  
More watchful, that might else less heed have had▪  
And, stir up thee for them, and them for thee,  
So zealous in continual vows to be,  
As w●ll (perchance) worse perils drive away,  
Then those, which are so feared, in thy stay.  
Oh! God, how many souls, by fleeing hence  
Escape this, and catch a deadlier Pestilence!  
How many hearts whom Fear doth somewhat strike  
With sorrows, which begins Repentance-like,  
(And might by staying here, accomplish that,  
Which every true Believer aimeth at)  
Will fall from those beginnings, by their flight,  
And lose the feeling of God's Iudgement●, quite?  
How many! by wr●ng seeking to prevent,  
Their heavenly Father's loving chastisement,  
Incorrigible in their lives will grow?  
And bring themselves to utter overthrow?  
And oh! what multitudes, by staying here,  
Shall change their dread, into a filial fear?  
Their fear to love, and love, and laud thee too,  
For sending that, which they abhorred so!  
Like them, who in the Deeps employed be,  
Here, thou the wondrous works of God shalt see.  
That thou mayst tell ●he world what he hath done;  
And sing the praise of that Almighty-One  
To this, and future a●es. And▪ for what  
Did he thy Soul and Body first create?  
For what redeem thee? For what end infuse  
That Faculty, which thou dost call thy Muse?  
For what, but for his honour, to declare  
Thos● judgements and his Mercies which will h●re  
Be shown unto thee? and to sing the Story  
Of wh●t thine eye beholdeth to his glory?  
For, if not here, then where? Or if not now,  
Then, at what other time expectest thou  
So fair an oprortunity, to show  
With how much readiness thou couldst bestow  
Thy life, and all thy faculties, on him  
(And, for his service) who bestowed them?  
What nobl●r Subject can the wo●ld afford,  
For thee, or for the Muses to record,  
Then will those judgements, and those Mercies be▪  
Which God will in this place disclose to thee?  
If Reason seek some purpose in thy stay,  
Me thinks, this purpose please thy Reason may:  
For, though those men who love their own vain praise,  
Have little care of their Creator's ways,  
And find small pleasingness in those Relations,  
Which are composed of such like Observations;  
Yet, all the glorioust acts of greatest Kings,  
A●e trivial, worthless, base, and foolish things▪  
Respecting these. And, though some nicer wits  
Scarce think that such a Subject well befits  
Their artful Muses. Yet, 'twixt this and that  
Whereon they love to plod and meditate,  
There's much more difference, then between their Laier  
And those which they do most of all dispraise:  
And they who live (the time) I hope shall see,  
These Poems, much, more prized than they be:  
Yea, though it may appear to common Reason,  
An act impertinent, and out of season,  
For such an end as this to make thy stay:  
Let not her carnal Sophisms thee dismay.  
For sin●e thou seest a vain Historian dares  
His person to adventure in the wars,  
That he (for fame, or hire) may w●i●e a story  
Of wha● is done to his Commander's glory:  
This action, wherefore shouldst thou startle from,  
As if thy judgement it would misbecome?  
If just it be, our safeties to contemn,  
In such a case (if that be good in him)  
How much more just, is thy adventure, then  
Who sin●●t the praise of God, and not o● men?  
How mu●h more safely walkest thou, than they?  
How much more glory, and how much more pay,  
Can thy great Captain give thee? And how small  
Should be thy fear? If thou shouldst fear at all.  
Nor to thy God, or to thyself alone,  
Will acceptable services be done  
By sta●ing here: but, peradventure some  
That living are, and some, in time to come,  
May reap advantage by it, and confess,  
That thou wert borne for them; and didst possess  
And use thy life, not for thyself alone,  
But ●hat to others profit might be done.  
The general notice which men take of thee,  
Will make thy actions more observed be  
Then those of twenty others, who do seem  
In their small circuits, men of great esteem:  
And, when hereafter it is known abroad,  
To what good purposes thou mad'st abode  
In this afflicted City: on what ground,  
Thy blamed resolution thou dost found:  
How sensible thou wert of every sear,  
And of each peril thou adventredst here:  
How many friends thou ●adst to fly ●nto:  
How much elsewhere thou mightst have found to do;  
What Censures thou shouldst hazard, in t●y stay:  
W●at pleasures wooed th●e to come aw●y:  
How, thy continuing here was not by chance  
By discontent, or humorous ignorance:  
How, no compulsion, no persuading Friend,  
No office, hope o● gain, or such like end  
Necessitated thee. Yea, when by such,  
Who are to fear enslaved overmuch,  
All this is heeded well; And when men shall  
Consider it, comparing therewithal,  
What causes moved thee; what meditation  
Confirmed thy stay; what kind of conversation  
Thou daily practisedst; and what good use  
They may from th● experiments produce;  
It will perchance occasion some to learn  
Those things, which yet they do not well discern:  
Help, in good Resolutions, some to arm:  
Some weak ones in temptations much confirm:  
To some become a means to make them see  
That men despised, may enabled be,  
By Faith, to keep their place undaunted there,  
Where men of better seeming gifts do flare.  
And peradventure thou mayst compass that  
Which likeher men in vain have aimed at▪  
For, though it may be said this place hath store  
By Calling and by Gifts, adapted more  
For such a task; and that there may be some,  
That have no warrant for departing from  
Th●se noisome streets, who well enough may take  
This pain●s; and thereof thee excused make.  
Yet, shall not that excuse thee. For, all they  
Have Callings, which employ them wholly may▪  
Yea, they whose wits are abler, think not on  
That work, perchance▪ as needful to be done.  
Or if they do, perhaps, they may expire  
Before they have performed it; or tyre.  
And though they should make perfect their designs:  
Yet their obscurity, may bar their Lines  
From taking that effect, which if thou write,  
Thy being far more known, accomplish might.  
For, Fame prevails with many (now adays)  
And, if uncout●'d, unkist (as Chaucer says.)  
Or grant that many had the same attempted,  
(And men of note) yet wert thou not exempted.  
For, best it is, when such like things as these  
Confirmed are by many witnesses.  
Beside, if those assurances which thou  
Shalt publish (and thy ●aith shall well allow)  
Affirmed were by none but such as they  
Who might not from this place depart aw●y  
Without much loss, or blame: mere natural men  
Might have contemned all those counsels, then,  
And all those just reproofs, that may, by thee,  
Or any other man objected be,  
Against their flavish Fears: and may reply,  
That no man stayed, but he that could not fly:  
Or that none durst become a voluntary,  
In such a Fire, for conscience sake▪ to tarry:  
And, that no mortal man had power obtained  
To bide such brunts, till outwardly constrained.  
Whereas thy free abiding here, will move  
Much better thoughts: thy constancy approve;  
Procure the more belief to thy Relations;  
The more effectual make thy good persuasions:  
And stop th●ir mo●thes, who might some other w●y  
Thy paine● have wronged, had aught procured thy stay.  
Oh! f●r, far be it, that Lust, Ava●ce,  
The strong distempers of some hateful Vice,  
A stupid Melancholy or the tumours  
Of some wild Passion, or fantastic Humor●,  
Should fix more stoutness in the heart of man,  
Then temperate, an● pious knowledge can.  
Far be it, that old women, for their pay,  
Or Sextons for as little b●re, as they,  
We in the w●lks of Death should walking see  
Without all flare; yet, they deterred be,  
Who boast of knowledge; and have sung, and said,  
That though in Death's black shadows they w●re lai●▪  
They would without dismay continue th●re;  
Because God's Rod, and Staff, their keepers are.  
Oh! let not this be so: And be it far  
From proving true; that they who studious are  
Of Wisdom, and of Piety, should shrink,  
Where he, whose head piece is but armed with drink▪  
Sits fearless: Or, that Use, or Custom shall  
Embolden more, than Christian Faith, and all  
The Moral Virtues: Or, that thou shouldst yield  
To carn●ll Reason, and forgo the Field.  
More Arguments I could, as yet, express,  
To prove thy staying hath much usefulness:  
As that it were unkindness to forsake  
Those persons here, who comfort in thee take.  
For, some profess already, that th●y bide,  
By thy example, greatly fortified,  
(In their compelled stay) by seeing thee  
So willingly, the●r griefs companion be.  
Y●a, many a one, observing thee to stay,  
Confesseth, he doth shame to fly away.  
Thereby, those Resolutions they have got,  
Which very lately they embraced not;  
And might, perhaps, if now thou shouldst departed▪  
Become afraid, because thou fearful art.  
Me thinks, it is unmanliness to fly  
From those, in woe, whom in prosperity  
Thou lovedst: yea, 'tis baseness, not to share  
In ●v'ry sorrow which thy friend's d●e bear,  
As well as in their pleasures, if they be  
Such friends, as some of thine do seem to thee.  
Here, thou hast long continued. On the bread  
Of Dainties, in this City thou hast fed.  
Here, thou hast laughed and sung; and here thou hast  
Thy youthful years, in many f●llies past;  
Abused thy Christianliberty, and trod  
That Maze, which brings forgetfulness of God.  
Here, thy example, some corrupted hath;  
Here, thou hast moved thy Creator's wrath:  
Here, thou hast sinned; and thy sins they were,  
Which holp to bring this Plague now raging here.  
Here, therefore, do thou fast: here, do thou mourn,  
And, into sighs, and tears, thy laughter turn.  
H●re, yield ●hy self to prison, till thou see  
At this Assize, how God will deal by thee:  
Even here, the time redeem thou: here, restore  
B● good examples, th●se whom heretofore  
Thou hast offended: here, t●y self apply  
God's just incensed wrath to pacify.  
Here, join in true Repentance, to remove  
●hat Storm which now descendeth from above.  
And the●, or live or dye▪ this Place, to thee  
A place of Refuge, and of ●oy shall be.  
Nor Sin, nor Death, nor H●ll, no● any thing  
Sh●ll discontent, fear, or peril bring  
Which to thy Soul or Body, shall become  
A disadvantage; but help save thee from  
Destruction: joys, as yet, unfelt, procure:  
In all temptation, mak● thy mind secure:  
Discover plainly how thy Reason failed;  
And, make thee bless the time, thy Faith prevailed.  
But, thou dost w●nt a Calling (REASON cries)  
Thy staying in this place to warrantize.  
And, that until thereof tho● dost obtain  
The full assurance, all my speech is vain.  
Indeed, the glorioust work we can begin,  
Unless God call us to it, is a sin.  
And therefore, every man should seek to know  
What, God, and what vain ●ancy calls him to.  
For, Pride▪ and overweening Arrogance,  
The Devil, or a zealous Ignorance,  
Suggests false warrants; and allureth men  
To dangerous adventures, now and then:  
Yea, maketh some, from God● commands to fall,  
And take employments at the Devils call.  
To judge thy Calling, then, learn this of me,  
That, some Vocations ordinary be,  
Some extraordinary If thou take  
An ordinary Calling, thou must make  
The common entrance, which that power doth give  
Within whose jurisdiction thou dost l●ve:  
Else (whatsoever Cause thou dost pretend)  
It is Intrusion: and, thou shalt offend.  
If thou conceivest thou some Calling haste  
In Extraordinary; see it passed  
By God's allowance, from God's holy Writ▪  
Before such time as thou accept of it.  
And, then, beware that nothing force thee back,  
Or, make thee in thine Office to be slack.  
In brief; a Calling extraordinary,  
To justify itself, these Marks must carry;  
And, if it fail of ●hem, but in the least,  
Thy Conscience is deluded in the r●st.  
God's glory will be aimed at, in chief:  
It will be grounded on a true belief:  
It doth not Gods revealed will oppose:  
No step that errs f●om Charity it goes:  
It seeketh not, what cannot be enjoyed:  
It makes no ordinary calling void:  
Some cause not frequent must invite thereto:  
And (to accomplish what thou hast to do)  
Some Gift, that's proper for it, must be given,  
And then, thou hast thy Calling sealed from heaven.  
Approve thyself by these, and thou shalt see,  
That, God, no doubt, hath truly called thee.  
To this adventure. For, thy heart intends  
His praise in this, above all other ends.  
Thou dost bele●ve, that (whether live or dye)  
Thy st●y shall somewhat add, to glorify  
Thy blessed Maker; and that something shall  
To thine, and others profits, here, befall.  
Thy judgement, to thy Conscience naught discloseth,  
Wherein it Gods revealed Will opposeth:  
It well agrees with Charity, and tries  
To compass no impossibilities.  
Nor binder's it, nor calls it th●e from aught  
Which is more necessary to be wrought.  
A Cause not ordinary now requires  
Thy presence here; and, God himself inspires  
Thy B●est with Resolutions that agree  
To such an a●tion. Gifts, which none but he  
Can give, he gives thee; such, as are by Nature,  
Not found in any sub●oelestiall Creature,  
But, me●rly of his Grace ● and, such, as none  
Can counterfeit, by all that may be done.  
And, whence are all th●se Musiags here expressed?  
Whence come these combatings within thy breast  
'twixt M● and Reason? who is it that makes  
Thy heart so fearless, now such horror shakes  
The souls of others? what embolden can  
The frightful spirit of a natural man,  
In such apparent dangers to abide?  
And yet, his Reason nothing from him hide,  
That seemeth to be dreadful; neither leave him  
Such Aims, or s●ch like Passions to deceive him,  
As harden others? Who, but he, that giveth  
Each p●rfit Gift, these Gifts to thee deriveth?  
And sure he nought bestows, but therewithal  
He sends occasions that employ is shall.  
Few Officers shall w●nt a doubtfulness  
That they their places doubtfully possess,  
If this be doubtful; whether God (or no)  
Hath called thee to what I bid thee do.  
For, outward Callings, most men do, or may  
Intrude upon, by some sinister way:  
By Simony, by Bribery, by Spoils,  
By open Violence, or secret Wiles.  
And therefore (though the Se●les of Kings they gain  
To strengthen what unduly they obtain)  
Some doubting of their Callings may be had  
To God ward, though such doubts be rarely made.  
But, for thy Calling thou Commission hast  
So firm; and it so many Seals hath past,  
That nothing should induce thee to suspect  
Thy Warrant, or distrust a good effect.  
God, from thy Cradle, seems to have ordained thee  
To such a purpose: for, he yearly trained thee  
Through several cares, and perils, so inure  
Thy heart, to what he meant thou shouldst endure:  
Else why shouldst thou (whose actions honest were  
To Man ward, though to God ward foul they are)  
Be more for that afflicted, which doth seem  
(To some) a work deserving good esteem,  
Then are a multitude in these our times,  
Convicted of the most notorious crimes?  
Why, at thy very birth, did he infuse  
Thy Soul with natural helps to form thy Muse,  
Which is a Faculty not lent to many,  
Nor by mere Art attained to, of any?  
To thee, why gave he Knowledge, such a way  
As others l●se it by? And why I pray  
Did he bestow upon thee so much Fame  
For those few childish lines that thou didst frame  
In thy minority▪ Why did he then  
(When scarce a man) enrol thy Name with men?  
And make thee to be praised and prized before  
Those men whose Years, and Sciences are more?  
What was there in thy Poems? what in thee,  
That seemed not worthy of contempt to be,  
Much more than of applause? And what hast thou  
From scorn to save thee, but God's mercy now?  
Believe it, he divulgeth not thy Name  
For thine own honour: But to make the same  
A means of spreading his. From perils past  
He saved not thee, for any worth thou hast,  
But, to declare his Mercies At this season,  
He moves this plea betwixt thy Faith and Reason,  
Not to be passed over, as in vain;  
But, in thy Breast true courage to maintain.  
Thy Muse he gave thee, not to exercise  
Her power in b●se and fruitless vanities,  
Or to be silenced: but, to magnify  
The wondrous workings of his Majesty.  
And, as the seals of Kings authorise those  
To whom they do their Offices dispose,  
So, these are Signs which force enough do carry  
To seal this calling extraordinary:  
And, they who slight the same will in some measure  
Incur the King of heavens high displeasure.  
Mor● might be said (hereof to make a proof)  
But, more to say, were more than is enough.  
Of this, no further, therefore, I'll dispute;  
But, bid thee stay, thy Place to execute.  
When FAITH had made this pleading in my breast  
My REASON was persuaded to protest  
Her full assent, to what she first gainsaid,  
Which, that it might be constantly obeyed,  
My Conscience, in her Court, did soon decree;  
And, all my thoughts were then at peace in me.  
From that time forward, neither Friend, nor Foe,  
Could startle me in what I meant to do.  
No vain desires within me did controul●  
My purpose: no distrusts did fright my soul:  
Nor seemed it, so dangerous, to stay,  
As (knowing what I ●new) to fly away.  
For, though these Arguments, and such as these,  
Can never fit in all men's Consciences,  
The just Meridian (seeing, variations,  
In manifold respects, make alterations)  
Yet, mine they suited with; and may, and shall  
Be some way useful, to my Readers all.  
I wished it so: For, I was then inspired  
With love to all▪ and all men's weal desired.  
Me thought, I pitied those, who should not see  
What God within this place did show to me:  
And should have grieved to have been constrained,  
Within the City, not to have remained.  
For by myself, when I to censure b●ought  
My present Lott; it pleased me: and, me thought,  
That, Go● vouchsafed to employ me so,  
And furnish me for what I was to do,  
With such a healthful body, and a mind  
To act his will so readily inclined;  
It seemed more comfort, and more honour far,  
Then if a Monarchs' Favourite I were,  
Or might for temporal respects become  
The noblest person of all Christendom.  
A●●, if I shall not still this mind embrace,  
A dog half hanged is in better case.  
For, when that favour I do value less,  
I shall grow senseless of all happiness.  
Oh! God, how great a blessing, then, didst thou  
Confer upon me? And what G●ace allow!  
Oh! what am I, and what my parentage?  
That Thou of all the Children of this Age  
Didst choose ou● m●, so highly to prefer,  
As of thy Acts, to be a Register?  
And g●ve me Fortitude and Resolution,  
To stay, and view thy judgements execution?  
That, I should live to see thy Angel here,  
Even in his greatest dreadfulness appear?  
That, when a thousand fell before my face,  
And at my right hand (in as little space)  
Ten thousand more, I should be still protected  
From that contagious blast, whi●h them infected!  
That, when of Arrows thou didst shoot a flight  
So thick by day, and such a storm by night  
Of poisoned shaft▪ I, then, should walk among  
The sharpest of them; and yet pass along  
Vnharmed▪ And that I should behold the path  
Which thou dost pace in thy hot burning wrath,  
(Yet not consume to Ashes) what a wonder  
To me it seems, when thereupon I ponder!  
How great a grace it was, whose tongue can say,  
That I who am but breathing dust and clay,  
Should waking (and in all my senses, well)  
Walk down the Grave almost as low as hell,  
Yet come again unscarred? and have leave  
To live and tell what there I did perceive!  
Yea come (as from the dead) again to show  
The faithless wo●ld what terrors a●e below!  
(And justify, that though a man be sent  
Even from the Grave to move men to repent,  
No Faith would in those hearers be begot,  
Who Moses and the Prophets credit not.)  
How great a Mercy was it, that when I  
Was thought in dangers, and in griefs to lie,  
That, for my Shepherd I had thee my God?  
And in the p●th of best contentments trod?  
That I, on sweetest Pleasures banqueted,  
When other men did eat Afflictions bread?  
That, I had perfect joys even in my tears?  
Assured ●afety in my greatest foares?  
A thousand comforts, whereof they who lived  
In better-seeming states, w●●e quite deprived?  
And much content, which they will never know,  
Who keep those paths in which the Vulgar go.  
What matchless benefits were these! & whence  
Canst thou, that gav'st them, have thy recompense,  
But from thyself▪ Or who but ●hou alone  
Can give me heart enough to think ●pon  
These Graces' as I o●●ht? Oh! therefore, deign  
To make my breast sufficient to contain  
That measure of due thankfulness, which may  
Accepted be, for what I cannot pay.  
And, suffer not my frailties, or my sin  
To hide again, what thou dost now begin  
To make me see; but grant to me thy grace,  
For ever, to behold thy cheerful face.  
Nor Oil, nor Corn, nor Wine can glad me so:  
Nor shall their brutish lovers ever know  
What joys within my breast begotten be,  
When thy pleased countenance doth shine on me.  
Let those who of great Kings affections boast,  
(And for ●heir ●avours are engaged most)  
Those, who possess (their starveling souls to please)  
Sweet Gardens, Groves, and curious Palaces,  
Rich jewels, large Revenues, princely Styles,  
The flatteries of Lords, and female smiles,  
The pleasures of the Chamber, and the Fields,  
All those which dainty fare, or Music yields,  
The City or the Court; and all tha● stuff  
Of which their hearts can never have enough:  
Let these, and those who their desires approve,  
With such enticing Objects fall in love:  
Let them pursue their fancies, till they find  
What sorrows and disgraces come behind:  
And let the●●urfet on them, till they see  
By tried experience, w●at their fruit will be.  
I never shall ●nvy their happiness;  
Nor cove● their high for●unes to possess,  
If thou preserve m● still in thy protection,  
And cheer my spirit by thin● eyes reflection▪  
For than I shall not fear the scorns of such▪  
My ●ares, 〈◊〉 shall never grieve me much:  
I shall not 〈◊〉 to ●rouch and sue to them,  
Who thee, and me, and virtue shall contemn▪  
I shall nor shrink nor startle, when I hear  
Those evil tidings, which men daily fear.  
Not leave my standing, though that in the room  
Of this great Pestilence, a War should come.  
Or (which were wo●se) another Fiery-triall,  
To ●orce us, of thy Truth to mak● denial.  
And, in these fearful times, no temporal bliss  
Would seem a greater privilege than this,  
To those, who now with trembling souls, expect  
What our proceedings will at last ●ffect.  
Yea, they, perhaps, who now are stupefied,  
Will praise my lot, when they their chance have tried.  
But (though even all men living should despise  
The comfort of it) I the same will prize.  
I praise thee for it, LORD, and here implore.  
That I may praise thee for it, evermore:  
Th●t these expressions of thy love to me,  
May helpful also to thy praises be  
In other men: And (if it may be so)  
In other times, and other places too:  
And, that the showing how I did compose  
The wa●re which 'twixt my Faith and Re●son ros●,  
M●y teach some others how they should debate  
Such doubts within themselves; and arbitrate  
(Within their Co●rt of Conscience) what is fit  
To be concluded, and so practise it.  
For, why so largely, I have this expressed,  
That, was not, of my purposes, the least.  
I beg moreover, that I may pursue  
To utter that which I have yet to show.  
And, that nor Sloth, nor Want, nor any Let,  
M●y to these Po●●es their last period set,  
Till I have made my Readers to conceive,  
That this was undertaken by thy leave▪  
And, that my Censurers may come to say,  
There was an useful purpose in my stay:  
Or show me what they did; or, what I might  
Have done to better uses in my flight.  
〈◊〉 I lastly, crave (which is, I trust, begun)  
That, I ●he way of thy Commands may run,  
The remnant of my Talon, and my days,  
Employing in good actions, to thy praise:  
That, I, for ever, may those paths refuse  
Which may unhallow, or pervert my Muse:  
And that, when this is done, I may not fall  
Through Pride or Sloth; as if this act were all:  
But, humbly strive such other wo●kes to do,  
As thou requirest, and I was borne unto.  
Yea furnish me with every thing by which  
I best may se●ve thee, and I shall be rich.  
This beg I, LORD; and nothing else I crave,  
For, more than that, were less than nought to have:  
I beg of thee, nor Fame, nor mortal praise,  
Nor carnal pleasures, nor yet length of days,  
Nor honours, nor vain wealth, but, just what may  
The Charges of my Pilgrimage defray.  
Oh grant me ●his; and hear me when I call:  
For, if thou stand not by me, I shall fall.   

The fourth Canto.  

Our Muse, in this fourth Canto, writes  
Of melancholy thoughts, and sights:  
Wha● changes were in ●very place;  
What Ruins in a little space:  
How Trades, and how provisions failed;  
How ●orrow thrived, how Death prevailed;  
And, how in 〈◊〉 he did ri●e▪  
With all his horrors, by his side.  
To LONDON, then, she doth declar●  
How suiting her afflictions were  
To former sins: what good and bad  
Effects, this Plague produced had:  
W●at friendly Champions, and what Foes  
For us did fight, or us oppose:  
And, how the greatest Plague of all  
On poor Artificers, did fall.  
Then, from the Fields, new grief she takes,  
And, useful Meditations makes:  
Relates, how flowly Vengeance came,  
How, God forewarned us of the same:  
What other Plagues to this were joined:  
And, here and there are interlined  
Upbraid, warn, exhortations,  
And, pertinent expostulations.   
WHen Conscience had allowed my Commission,  
For staying, & declared on what condition;  
I did not only feel my heart consent  
To entertain it, with a full content,  
But also, found myself prepared so  
To execute the work I had to do,  
That without pain (me thought) I was employed,  
And all my Passions to good use enjoyed.  
For, though God fre●d my soul from slavish fear,  
Ye●, so much awe he still preserved there,  
As kept within my hea●t some natural sense  
Oft is displeasure, and of penitence  
He gave me joys, yet left some Grief withal,  
Lest I into security might fall;  
Or▪ lose the fellow-feeling of that pain,  
Whereo●, I heard my neighbours to complain.  
He lent me health: yet, every day some twitches  
Of pangs unusual; many qualms, and stitches  
Of short continuance, my poor heart assailed,  
That I might heed the more what others ailed.  
He kept me hopeful: and yet, now and then,  
His rods (wherewith▪ in love, he scourgeth men)  
Did make me smart; lest else I might assume  
The liberty of Wantoness, and presume.  
My ordinary means was made their prey,  
Who seek my spoil, and lately took away.  
Yet, me with plenties, daily did he feed,  
And I did nothing wan●, which I could need,  
Which God vouchsafed to assure to me,  
That when unusual works required be;  
He will (ere we shall want what's necessary)  
Supply us by a means, not ordinary.  
By many other signs, unmentioned here,  
God's love, and providence, did so appear,  
And so me thought engage me, to remove  
What ever to his work a let might prove;  
That (so far forth as my frail nature could  
Admit, and things convenient suffer would)  
My own Affairs aside, a while I threw,  
And bent myself, with heedfulness, to view  
What, worth my notice, in thi● Plague I saw,  
O●, what good uses I from thence might draw.  
But, far I needed not to place about,  
Nor long inquire to find such Objects out.  
For, every place with sorrows then abounded,  
And every way the cries of Mourning sounded.  
Yea▪ day by day, successively till night,  
And from the evening till the morning light,  
Were Schemes of Grief, with strange variety▪  
Knit up, in one continuing Tragedy.  
No sooner waked I, but twice twenty kneels,  
And many sadly-sounding passing-bells,  
Did greet mine ear, and by their heavy tolls,  
To me gave notice, that some early souls  
Departed whilst I slept: That other some  
Were drawing onward to their longest home;  
And, seemingly, presaged, that many a one  
Should bid the world good-night, ere it were noon.  
One while the mournful Tenor, in her tones  
Did yield a sound as if in deep fo● groans,  
She did bewail the sorrow which attends  
The separation of those loving friends,  
The Soul and Body. Other while, again,  
Me thought, it called on me, and other men  
To pray, that God would view th●m with compassion▪  
And give them comfortable separation.  
(For, we should with a fellow-feeling, share  
In every sorrow, which our brethren bear)  
Sometime my Fancy tuned so the Bell▪  
As if her Towling did the story tell  
Of my mortality, and call me from  
This life, by oft, and loudly sounding, Come.  
So long the solitary nights did last,  
That I had leisure my accounts to cast;  
And think upon, and over-think those things,  
Which darkness, loneliness, and sorrow brings  
To their consideration, who do know,  
From whence they came, and whither they must go.  
My Chamber entertained me all alone,  
And in the rooms adjoining lodged none.  
Yet, through the darksome silent night did fly  
Sometime an uncouth noise; sometime a cry,  
And sometime mournful callings pierced my room,  
Which came, I neither knew from whence, nor whom.  
And, oft betwixt awaking and asleep,  
Their voices who did talk▪ or pray, or weep,  
Unto my listening ears a passage found,  
And troubled me, by their uncertain sound.  
For, though the sounds themselves no terror we●e▪  
Nor came from any thing that I could fear;  
Yet, they b●ed Muse; and those muse bred  
Conjecturing, in my half sleeping head:  
By those Conjectures into mind w●re brought  
Some real things, before quite out of thought;  
They, diverse Fancies to my soul did show,  
Which m● still further, and still further drew  
To follow them; till they did thoughts procure  
Which humane frailty cannot long endure:  
Even such, as when I fully was awake,  
Did make my heart to tremble, and to a●e.  
And, when such frailties have disheartened men▪  
Oh! God, how busy is the Devil then?  
I know in part his malice, and the ways  
And times, and those occasions which he lays  
To work upon our weakness; and there is  
Scarce any which doth show him like to t●is.  
I partly also know by what degrees  
He worketh it; how he doth gain or lose  
Hi● labours; and some sense I have procured,  
What pangs are by the soul that while endured.  
For, though my God, in mercy, hath endued  
My Soul with Knowledge, and with Fortitude  
In such a measure, that I do not fear  
(Distractedly) those tortures which appear  
In solitary da●kness●: yet, some part  
Of this, and of all frailties in my heart  
Continues he; that so I might confess  
His mercies with continual thankfulness,  
And, somewhat (●vermore) about me bear,  
Which unto me my frailties may declare.  
Yea (though without distemper, now it be)  
So much of those grim fears are showed me,  
Which terrified my childhood, and which mak●  
The hea●ts of a●ed men, sometimes to quake▪  
That I am sensible of their estate;  
And can their case the more compassionate,  
Who on their beds of ●eath do pained lie,  
Exiled from com●ort, and f●om company,  
When dreadful Fancies do their soul's aflight▪  
Begotten by the melancholy night.  
Glad was I, when I saw the Sun appear,  
(And with his Rays to bless our Hemisphere)  
That from the tumbled bed I might arise,  
And with more lightsomness refresh mine eyes:  
Or with some good companions, ●ead, or pray,  
To pass, the better, my s●d thoughts away:  
For, though such thought oft useful are, and good▪  
Yet, knowing well, I was but flesh and blood,  
I also knew man's natural condition  
Must have in joys, and griefs, an intermission,  
Lest too much joy should fill the heart with folly,  
Or, too much grief breed dangerous melancholy.  
But, when the Morning came, i● little showed,  
Save light, to see discomforting renewed:  
For, if I stayed within, I heard relations  
Of nought but dying pang●, and lamentations.  
If in the Streets I did my footing set,  
With many sad disasters there I met.  
And, objects of mortality and fear,  
I saw in great abundance every where.  
Here, one man staggered by, w●th visage pale:  
There, leaned another, grunting on a stall.  
A third, half dead, lay gasping for his grave;  
A fourth did out at window call, and rave;  
Yonn came the Bearers, sweeting from the Pit,  
To fetch more bodies to replenish it.  
A little further off, one sits, and shows  
The spots, which he Death's tokens doth suppose,  
(ere such they be) and, makes them so indeed;  
Which had been signs of health, by taking heed.  
For, those round-purple-spot●, which most have thought  
Death's fatal tokens (where they forth are b●ought,)  
May prove Life tokens, if that ought be done,  
To help the work, which Nature h●th begun.  
Whereas, that fear, which their opinion brings  
Who threaten Death; the want of cordial things  
(To help remove that poison from the heart,  
Which Nature hath expelled thence in part)  
And then, the Sick-man's liberty of having  
Cold drinks, and what his appetite is craving,  
Brings back again those humours pestilent,  
Which by the vital powers had fo●th been sent.  
So by recharging him that was before  
Nigh spent, the fainting Combatant gives o'er:  
And he that cheerfully did raise his head,  
Is often, in a moment, strucken dead.  
Fear also helps it forward. Yea, the terror  
Occasioned, by their fond and common error,  
Who tell the sick●, that marked for Death they be,  
(When those bl●w spots upon their flesh they see)  
Even that hath murdered thousands, who might here  
Have lived, ●lse, among us, many a year.  
For, if the Surgeons, or the Searchers, know  
Those marks, which for the marks of death do go,  
From common-spots, or purples, (which we must  
Confess, or else all kind of spots d●str●st)  
Then, such as we Death-tokens call, were seen  
On some, that have long since, recovered been.  
Before I learned this, I fixed mine eyes  
On many a private man's calamities,  
And saw the Streets (wherein a while ago  
We s●arce could pass, the people filled them so)  
Appear nigh desolate; yea, quite forlorn  
And for their wont visitant● to mourn.  
Much peopled Westminster, where late, I saw,  
So many reverend judges of the Law,  
With Clients, and with Suitors hemmed round:  
Where Courts and Palaces did so abound  
With businesses: and, wh●re, together met  
Our Thrones of justice, and our Mercy-seat;  
That place, was then frequented, as you see  
Some Villages on Holidays will be  
When half the Towneship, and the Hamlets nigh  
Are met to revel, at some Parish, by.  
Perhaps, the wronging of the Orphan's cause,  
Denying, or perverting of the Laws  
There practised, did set this Plague abr●eding,  
And sent the Term from Westminster to Reading.  
Her goodly Church and Chapel, did appear  
Like some poor Minster which hath twice a year  
Four visitants: And, her great Hall, wherein  
So great a Rendezvous had lately ●in,  
Did look like those old Structured, where long since  
Me● say, King Arthur kept his residence.  
The Parliament had left her, to go see  
If they could learn at Oxford to agree;  
Or if that air were better ●or the health  
And safety of our English Commonwealth.  
But there, some did so counsel, and so urge  
The Body politic to take a purge,  
To purify the parts that seemed foul:  
Some others did that motion so control,  
And plead so much for Cordials, and for that  
Which strengthen might the sinews of the State,  
That all the time, the labour, and the cost,  
Which had bestowed been, was wholly lost.  
And, here, the empty House of Parliament  
Did look as if i● had been discontent,  
Or grieved (me thought) that Oxford should not be  
More prosperous, yet; nor c●uld I any see  
Resort to com●ort her: But, there did I  
Behold two Traitors hea●s, which perching high,  
Did show their teeth, as if they had been grinning  
At those Affli●tious which are now beginning.  
Yea, their wide ●ye holes, stared, me thought, as th●  
They looked ●o see that House now overthrow  
Itself, which they with Powder up had blown,  
Had God, their snares, and them, not overthrown.  
White Hall, where not three months before▪ I spied  
Great Britain in the height of all her pride,  
And, France with her contending, which could most  
Outbrave old Rome and Persi●, in their cost  
On Robes and Feasts: Even that lay solitary,  
As doth a quite-forsaken Monastery  
In some lone Forest; and we could not pass  
To many places, but through weeds and grass.  
Perhaps, the sins, of late, committed ●here,  
Occasions of such desolation were.  
Pray God, there be not others, in the State,  
That will make all, a● last, be desolate.  
The Stra●d, that goodly thoroughfare between  
The Court and City (and where I have seen  
Well nigh a million pa●sing in one day)  
Is now, almost, an unfrequented way:  
And peradventure, for those impudencies,  
Those riots, and those other foul offences,  
Which in that place were frequent, when it had  
So great resort; ●t is now justly made  
To stand unvisited▪ God grant it may  
Repent▪ lest longer, and another way  
It stand unpeopled, or some others use  
Those blessings, which the owners now abuse.  
The City-houses of our English P●eres,  
Now smoked as seldom, as in other years  
Their Country-palaces: and, they perchance  
Much better know then doth my ignorance,  
Why so it came to pass. But, wish I shall  
That they their ways to mind would better call;  
Le●t both their Country▪ and their City-piles,  
Be smoking seen, and burning, many miles.  
The Inns of Court I entered; and I saw  
Each Room so desolate, as if the Law  
Had outlawed all her Students; or that there  
Some feared arresting, whe●e no Sergeants were.  
Most dream, that this great fright was thither sent  
Not purposely, but came by accident;  
And so, but little use is taken from  
God's judgements, to amend the times to come.  
Yet, I dare say, it was a warning given  
Even by appointment: and decreed in heaven:  
To signify, that if our Lawyers will  
In their abusive ways continue still,  
The cause of their profession quite forgetting▪  
And to their practices no limits setting,  
Till they (as heretofore the Clergy were)  
Are more in number then the Land can bear.  
Their goodly Palaces shall spew them forth,  
As excrements that have nor use nor worth;  
And, be disposed of, as now they s●e,  
The Priories, and Monasteries be.  
It grieved me to behold this woeful change,  
And places so well known, appear so strange.  
But, oh poor LONDON! when I looked on thee,  
Remembering therewithal, thy jollity  
Erewhile; and how soon after I did meet  
With grief and sad complaints in every street▪  
When I did mind how thronged thy Ga●es have been  
And then perceived so few past out or in.  
When I considered that abundant store  
Of wealth, which thou discover'dst heretofore:  
And, looking on thy many empty stalls,  
Beheld thy shops set up their wooden-wals▪  
Me thought, thou should●t not be that London, w●ich  
Appeared of late so populous, and rich;  
But, some large Burrow; either falling from  
Her height; or, not unto her greatness come.  
If to thy Port I walked; it moved remorse,  
To see how greatly, Trade and Intercourse  
Decayed there; and what depopulations,  
Were made in thy late peopled habitations.  
Thy Royal Change, which was the Rendezvous  
Wherein all Nations met, the whole world through,  
Within whose princely walls we heard the sound  
Of every Language spoke on Earth's vast Round;  
And where we could have known what had been done  
In every foreign Coast below the Sun:  
That Place, the City-Merchant, and the Stranger  
Avoided as a place of certain danger:  
And feared (as it seems) they might have had  
Some bargain there, that would have spoilt their trade  
Thy large Cathedral, whose decaying frame  
Thou leavest unrepaired to thy shame,  
Had scarce a Walker in her middle I'll;  
And, every Ma●ble of tha● ancient Pile,  
Did often drop, and seem to shed forth tears,  
For thy late ruin, though thou sleightest hers.  
The time hath been, that once a day, from thence,  
We could have ●●d a large intelligence  
Of most occurences, that public were.  
Y●a, many times we had▪ relations there,  
Of things, who●e foolish actors never thought  
Their deeds to open scanning should be brought.  
There, heard we oft made public by report,  
What Secrecies were whispered in the Court.  
The Closet-Cou●sels, and the Chamber work,  
Which many think in privacy doth lurk.  
There heard we what those Lords, and Ladies were,  
Who m●t disguised, ●hey know when, and where.  
The●e ●eard we what they did, and what they said;  
And many foolish plots were there bew●ai●:  
There, heard we reasons, why such men were made  
Gre●t Lords and Knights, who no deserving had,  
In common view: and how gre●t Prince's eyes  
Are dazzled ●nd abused wi●h fallacies.  
Th●re heard we for what Gifts most Doctors rise,  
And gain the Church●s●ighest ●ighest dignities.  
The truest causes also there we●e known,  
Why men advanced are, or pulled down.  
Why Officers are changed, or displaced;  
Why some confined are and some disgraced;  
And w●at among the wise, those men do seem,  
That are great Statesmen, in their own esteem.  
Th●re we have heard, what Princes have intended,  
When they to do s●me other thing p●e●ended.  
What Policies▪ and Projects, men pursue▪  
With public aims, and with a pious s●ew.  
Why from the Counsel one is turned out;  
What makes another counterfeit the gout,  
And many other mysteries beside,  
With hardly can the mentioning abide.  
But those Athenian Merchantmen were gone,  
Who made exchange of News; and few or none  
To hear or make reports remained there.  
Yea they who scarce a day (as if they were  
Of Paul's the walking Statues) stayed from thence  
Since LONDON felt the last great Pestilence,  
Even they were gone; and those void Isles d●d look  
As if some properties had them forsook.  
Our theatres, our Taverns, Tennis-courts,  
And Gaming houses whither great resorts  
Were w●nt to come; then, seldom were frequented:  
Not that such vanities we much repent;  
But, lest those places, which had follies taught us,  
Might some reward, unlooked for, have brought us.  
Where we with Pestilences of the ●oule  
Each other had polluted and made foul,  
Our bodies were infected; and our breathes,  
Which had endangered our eternal de●t●s,  
(In former times) by uttering heresies,  
By scandals, and by basest flatteries,  
Or wanton speeches; put●ifide the Air,  
The blood even at the fountain did impair,  
To cool our lust▪ And they that were the bliss●●  
Of some▪ men's lives, did poison them with kisses.  
The Ma●kets which a while before did yield  
What air, se●s, rivers', garden, wood, or field,  
To furnish them afforded; no● had nought,  
But what some few in secret thither brought.  
For (as a foresaid) it was ordered so,  
That none should with provisions, come or go.  
So, like a Town beleaguered thou didst far,  
In some respects: And, but that God had care  
By m●king others feel necessities  
Which forced them to minister supplies;  
Thou hadst been famished, or been fain to b●ing  
Provisions in by way of foraging:  
And then their foolishness, had brought upon  
Those men, two mischiefs, who did fear but one.  
Hereafter therefore, practise well to use  
Those plenties thou didst heretofore abuse;  
Lest God, again bereave thee of thy sto●e,  
And never so enlarge his bounty more.  
For, to correct thy Surfeits, and Excess,  
Thy slighting of the poor, thy thanklessness,  
And such like sins; God worthily restrained  
Those plenties which thy pride and lust maintained.  
Thy Dwellings, f●om whose windows I have se●n  
A thousand Ladies, that might Queens have been  
For bravery, and beauty: And, some far  
More fair than they that famed in Legends are.  
Those s●ood unpeopled, as those ●ouse● do  
Which Sprights, and Fairies do resort unto.  
None to their closed wicke●s made repai●e;  
Their empty gasemen●s gaped wide for air;  
And where once foot clot●es and Ca●oches were  
Attending; now stood Coffins, and a Bier.  
Yea Coffins oftener passed by every door,  
Th●n Coaches, and Caroches, heretofore▪  
To see a country Lady, or a Knight  
Among us then, had been a● rare a sigh●  
As was that Elephant which came from Spain,  
O● some great Monster spewed out of the Main.  
If by mischance the people in the street,  
A Courtier, or a Gentleman did meet,  
They with as much amazement him did view,  
As if they had beheld the wandering ●ew.  
And, many, seeing me to keep this place,  
Did look as if they much bewailed my cas●,  
And h●l●e belee'vd that I was doomed hither,  
That (since close-prison, half a year together,  
Nor private wrongs, nor public disrespect,  
Could break my heart, nor much the same deject)  
This Plague might kill me, which is come to whip  
Those faults which heretofore my pen did strip.  
But here I walked in safety to behold  
What changes, for instruction, see I could.  
And, as I wandered on, my eye did meet,  
Those half built Pageants whi●h, a thwart the street,  
Did those triumphant Arches counterfeit,  
Which heretofore in ancient Rome were fet,  
When their victorious Generals had thither  
The spoil of mighty kingdoms b●ought together.  
The loyal Citizens (although they lost  
The glory of their well-intended cost)  
E●ected those great Structures to renown  
The new receiving o● the sovereign Crown  
By hopeful CHARLES (whose royal exaltation,  
Make thou oh! God, propitious to this Nation.)  
But when those works, imperfect, I beheld,  
They di● new c●uses of sad muse yield,  
Portending ruin. And, did seem, me thought,  
In honour of Death's trophies to be wrought;  
Much rather, than from purposes to spring  
Which aimed at the honour of a King.  
For, their unpolisht form, did make them fit  
For d●●efull Shows: yea, DEATH on them did sit.  
His Captives passed under ev●●y Arch;  
Among them, as in Triumph he did march;  
Through every Street, upon men's backs were borne  
His Conquests. His b●ack Liveries were worn▪  
In every House almost. Hi● spoils were brought  
To every Temple. Many Vaults were fraught  
With his new prizes And his followers grew  
To such a multitude, that half our Yew,  
And all our Cypress t●ees, could ha●dly lend him  
A branch for every one who did attend him.  
My Fancy did present to me that hour  
A glimpse of DEATH even in his greatest power.  
Me thought I saw him, in a Chariot ride,  
With all his grim companions by his side.  
Such as Oblivion, and Corruption be.  
Not half a step before him, ●ode these t●ree,  
(On Monsters backed) Pain, Horror, and Despair:  
Whose fury, had not Faith, and Hope, and Prayer,  
Prevented, through God's m●rcy none had ever  
Escaped Destruction by their best endeavour.  
For, next to Death, came judgement: after whom,  
Hell w●th devouring laws, did gaping come,  
To swallow all: But, she at One di● snap,  
Who now, for many, hath made way to scape.  
Death's Carr, with many chains, & ropes, & strings,  
And, by a multitude of several th●ngs,  
As Pleasures, Passions, Cares, and such as they,  
Was drawn along upon a beaten way,  
New graveled with old bones: and, Sin did seem  
To be the foremost Beast of all the Teeme:  
And, Sickness to be that which haled next  
The Chariot wheel; for, none I s●w betwixt.  
Time led the way; and, justice did appea●e,  
To sit before, and play the Charioteer.  
For since our Sin to p●ll on Death begun,  
The whip of justice makes the Chariot run.  
There was of Trumpets, and of Drums the sound;  
But in loud cries, and roar it was drowned.  
Sad Elegies, and songs of Lamentation  
Were howled out; but, moved no compassion.  
Skulls, Coffins, Spades, and Mattocks placed were  
About the Chariot. Crawling Worms were there  
And whatsoever else might signify  
Death's nature, and weak man's mortality.  
Before the Chariot, such a multitude  
Of every Nation in the world I viewed,  
That neither could my eye so far perceive,  
As they were thronging; nor my heart conceive  
Their countless number. For, all those that were  
Since Abel died, he drove before him there.  
And▪ of those thousands, dying long ago,  
Some here and there, among them, I did know,  
Whose Virtues them in death distinguished  
(In spite of Death) from others of the dead.  
I saw them stand, me thought, as you shall see  
High spreading Oaks, which in ●el'd Copses be,  
O'retop the shrubs; and, where scarce two are found  
Of growth, within ten thousand ro● of ground.  
O● those who died within the Age before  
This year, I sc●rce distinguished a score  
From Beasts, and Fowls, & Fishes. For, Death makes  
So little difference 'twixt the flesh he takes,  
That, into dust alike he ●urnes it all.  
And▪ if no virtue make distinction sh●ll,  
Those men who did of much in life-time boast,  
Shall dying in the common heap be lost.  
But, of tho●e Captives which my fantasy  
Presented to my apprehensions eye  
To grace this Monarchs' Triumph; most I heeded  
Those troops, which next before the Carr proceeded,  
Even those which in the circuit of this year,  
The prey of Death within our Island were:  
It was an Army royal, which bec●me  
A King, and lo, King JAMES did lead the same.  
The Duke of Richmond, and his only brother  
The Duke of Lenox, seconded each other.  
Next ●hem, in this attendance followed on  
That noble Sco●, the Marquis Hamilton,  
Sou●hampton, Su●folke, Oxford, Nottingham,  
And holderness, their Earldoms leaving, came  
To wait upon this Triumph. There I saw  
Some reverend Bishops, and some men of Law,  
As Winchester, and Hubbard, and I know not  
Who else▪ for to their memories I owe not  
So much as here to name them: nor do I  
Upon me take to mention punctually  
Their order of departing, nor to swear  
That all of these fell just within the year.  
For of the time if somewhat I do miss,  
The matter sure, not much material is.  
Some Barons and some Viscounts, saw I too▪  
Zouch, Bacon, Chichester, and others more,  
Whose Titles I forg●t. There followed then  
Some Officers of note; some Aldermen;  
Great store of Knights, and Bu●gesses, with whom  
A couple marched, that had the Shcriff●dome  
Of London that sad year: the one of which  
In Piety and Virtue died so rich,  
(If his surviving fame may ●e believed)  
That for his loss the City much hath grieved.  
To be an honour to him, here, therefore  
I fix the name of Crisp, which name he bore:  
And I am hopeful it shall none offend,  
The Muses do this right unto their friend.  
Some others also of great state and place,  
To me no● known by office, name, nor face,  
Made up the concourse. But, the common Rabble  
To number or distinguish, none was able.  
For, rich and poor, men, women, old and young,  
So fast and so confusedly did throng;  
By strokes of Death, so marked, so ghastly wounded,  
So thrust together, and so much confounded  
Among that glut of people, which from hence  
Were sent among them, by the Pestilence,  
That possible it was not, to descry  
Or who or what they were who passed by.  
Yet, now and then, me thought, I had the view  
Of some who much resembled those I knew.  
And▪ feign I would the favour have pro●u●ed  
To keep their Names from being quite obscured  
Among the multitude. But, they were gone  
Before the means could well be thought upon.  
And pass they must for aye, unknown of me:  
For, this was but a waking Dream, I see.  
These Fancies▪ Melancholy often bred:  
Yea, many such like Pageants in my head  
My working apprehension did beget,  
According to those objects which I met.  
Some, full of comfort, able to relieve  
The heart wh●m dreadful thoughts did overgrieve.  
Some full of horror▪ such as they have had  
(It I mistake nor) th●t grow desperate mad.  
Some, like to their illusions, who in s●ead  
Of being humbled in this place of dread▪  
Are puffed up by their deliverance:  
And being full of dangerous arrogance,  
Abuse their souls, with vain imaginations,  
Ill-grounded hopes, suggested revelations,  
And such like toys, which in their hearts arise  
From their own Pride, and Satan's fallacies.  
Some, such as these I had; and other some,  
Which cannot be by words expressed from  
My troubled heart. And, if I had not got  
God's hand, to help untie the●r Gordian-k●ot;  
His presence, my bold reas'ning to control;  
To curb my passion; to inform my soul;  
My faith to strengthen; doubtings to abate;  
And so to comfort, ●nd to arbitrate,  
That I m●ght see I was of him beloved,  
(Though me with many secret ●eares he proved)  
Su●e, in myself, some Hell I had invented,  
Where endless thoughts, & doubts, had me tormented.  
But, God those depths hath showed me, that I might  
See ●hat we carry in ourselves to fright  
Ourselves withal And what a hell of fear  
Is in our ve●y souls, till he be there.  
Even when I had the brightness of the day,  
To chase my melancholy thoughts away,  
I was to muse troublesome disposed,  
As well as when the darkness me enclosed;  
Th●t, by experiments, w●ich real are,  
Those horrors which to others oft appear  
(And are not demonstrable) might in part  
Be felt in me, to mollify my heart;  
To stir up hearty thankfulness; and make  
My soul, in him the greater pleasure take.  
For from those prospects, & those thoughts that grieve me,  
ay, those ext●actions make that much relieve me.  
And when my inward combatings a●e past,  
It gives to my joys the sweeter taste.  
But leaving th●s, I will again return  
To that for which the people soon mourn.  
I looked along the Streets 〈◊〉 chiefest trade;  
And, there, perpetual Holiday they made.  
They that one day in seven could not forbear  
From trading; had not one in half a year.  
And, all which some had fro● their childhood got,  
The charges of their flight defrayed not.  
To m●ke the greedy Cormorant regard  
The Sabbath more, and of ill gains afeared.  
False wa●es, fal●e oaths, false measures, and false weights,  
False promises, a●d falsified lights,  
Were punished with false hopes, false joys, false fears,  
False servants, and false friend's, to them, and theirs.  
The● who of late their neighbours did contemn,  
Had not a neighbour le●t to comfort them,  
W●en neighbourhood was needful Such as were  
Selfe-love●s, by themselves remained here;  
And w●nted those contentments, which arise,  
Fro● Christian Love, and mutual Amity's.  
Mo●t Trades were tradefallen, & few Merchants thrived,  
Save those men, who by Death and Sickness, lived.  
The Sextons, Searchers, they that Corpses ca●ie,  
The Herbwife, Druggist, and Apothecary,  
Physicians, Surgeons, Nurses, Co●●in-makers,  
Bold Mountebanks, and shameless undertakers,  
To cure the Pe●t in all; these, rich become:  
And what we pray to be delivered from  
Was their advantage. Yea, the worst of these  
Grew stout, and fat, and proud by this disease.  
So●e, vented refuse w●res, at three times more,  
Than what is best, was prized at before.  
Some set upon their labours such high rates▪  
As passed Reason: so, they whose estates  
〈◊〉 fail of reaching to a price so high,  
Were fain to perish without remedy.  
Some, wolvishly, did prey upon the quick,  
Some, theevishly, purloined from the sick.  
Some robbed the dead of sheets, some, of a grave,  
That there another guest may lodging have:  
Yea, Custom had so hardened most of them,  
That they Gods judgements wholly did contemn.  
They, so hardhearted, and so stupid grew,  
So dreadlesly their course they did pursue,  
Yea so they flouted, and such jests did make  
At that, for which each Christian heart did ache,  
That greater were the Plague their mind to have,  
Then of the Pestilence to lie and rave.  
Now muse I not at what Thucydides  
Reporteth of such wicked men as these,  
When Athens was depopulated nigh  
By such a Pestilence. Nor wonder I,  
That when the Plague did this time sixty year  
Oppress the Town of Lions, that some there  
Were said to ravish women, even when death  
Was drawing from the● their last gasp o● breath.  
And when infectious B●aines on them th●y saw,  
Which ●ight have kept their lustful flesh in awe.  
For man once hardened in impenitence,  
Is left unto a reprobated sense.  
Till God shall sanctify i●, weal, nor woe,  
Can make us fear him as we ought to do.  
His love made wanton Is●'●l●purne ●purne at him;  
His plagues made Phar'oh, his sharpst rod contemn:  
And as the Sun from dunghills, and from sinks,  
Produceth nothing but rank weeds, and s●inks;  
Yet makes a Garden of well-tilled ground,  
With wholesome fruits, and fragrant flowers abound:  
Or, as in bruising, one thing scenteth well,  
Another yields a loathsome, stifling smell;  
So, Plagues and Blessings, their effects declare,  
According as their several objects are.  
Indeed, my young experience never saw,  
So much security, and so much awe  
Dwell both together in one place, as here  
In this mortality, there did appear.  
I am persuaded, time and place was never  
In which afflicted men did more endeavour  
By tears, vows, prayers and true penitence,  
To paci●●e God's wrath for ●heir offence.  
Nor ever was it seen, I think, before,  
That men in wickedness presumed more.  
Here you should meet a man with bleared eyes,  
Bewailing our increasing miseries;  
Another there▪ quite reeling drunk▪ o● spewing,  
And by renewed sins, o●r woes renewing  
There sat a piece of shamelessness, whose flaring  
Attires and looks, did show a monstrous daring:  
For, in the postures of true impudence,  
She seemed as if she woo●d the Pestilence  
Yonn talked a couple, ma●ter worth your hearing:  
Hard by, were others, telling lies, or swearing.  
Some streets had Church's full of people, weeping:  
Some others, Taverns had, rude-revell keeping:  
Within some houses Psalms and Hymns were sung:  
W●th raylings, and loud scouldings, others rung.  
More C●arity, did never, yet, appear:  
Nor more maliciousness, than we had here.  
True piety was ominentl● known;  
H●po●risie as evidently shown.  
More avarice, mor● gapers for the wealth  
O● such as died; no former times of health  
Afforded us; nor men of larger heart,  
●hings needful for their brethren, to impart.  
Their master's goods, some servants lewdly spent,  
In nightly feastings, foolish merriment,  
And lewd uncleanness. O●her some again,  
Did such an honest carefulness betaine,  
That their endeavours had a good success,  
And, Man, and Master m●t with joyfulness.  
Yea, Good and Evil, penitence and sin  
Did here so d●ive each other out and in;  
That in observing it, I saw, me thought,  
In sight of Heaven, a dreadful Combat fought  
Concerning this whole Island, which yet lies,  
To be God's purchase, or the Devil● prise.  
Vice wounded V●rtue; Virtue o''t compelled  
The strongest Vices to forsake the field.  
Distrust raised up a storm, to drive ●way  
Sure-helpe, our ship, which at Hope's anchor la●;  
And brought supplies with every wind and tide,  
Whereby this Land was fed and fortified.  
The Fort of Faith, was played on by D●spai●e:  
But then the gunshot o● continuall-Pray'r  
(Well aimed ●t Heaven) Devotion so did ply,  
That, he dismounts the Foes Artillery.  
The Spirit and the Flesh together strive,  
And, oft each other into peril drive.  
Presumption, huge high Scaling ladders, r●ared,  
And then the taking of our Fort was feared.  
But awful Reverence did him oppo●●,  
And with Humilities deppe Trench enclose  
The Platform of that Fortress, from whose Towers  
We fight with Principalities, and Powers.  
Suggestion lay pur due by Contemplation,  
And sought to disadvantage Meditation.  
The Regiment of Prudence was assailed,  
By headstrong Ignorance, who much prevailed  
Where Temperance was quartered, there I saw  
Excess and Riot, both together draw  
Their troops against her: and, I some espied  
To yield, and overcome on either side▪  
The place that v●liant Fortitude made good,  
Faintheartedness (though out of sight he stood)  
Did cowardly oppose, and courses take,  
Which otherwhile his Constancy did shake.  
For Carnal policy her Engineer,  
Had closely sunk a Mine which had gone near  
To blow all up. But Providence divine  
Did soon prevent it by a Countermine.  
Yet Morall-Iustice (though a Court o● Gu●rd  
Was placed, and oft relieved in her Ward)  
Had much ado to m●ke a strong defence  
Against her Foes. For, Fraud, and Violence,  
Respect of persons, Fear, Hate, Perjury,  
Faire-speaking, and corrupting Bribery,  
Did wound her much; though she did often take  
Avengement; and o● some, examples make.  
Some Vices, there, I saw themselves disguise  
Like Virtues, that their Foes they might surprise;  
As do the Dunkirks, when aboard to lay  
Our ships, an English flag they do display.  
Pride went for Come●●nesse: profuse Excess,  
For Hospitality: base Drunkenness  
Was called Good fellowship: blunt Rashness came  
Attired li●e Valour: Sloth had got the name  
Of Quietness: accursed Avarice,  
Was termed Good husbandry. Mere Cowardice  
Appeared like prudent Wariness, and might  
Have passed for a very valiant wight.  
Yea, every Vice, to gain his purpose, had  
So●e marks o● vertue-like disguise● made▪  
And, many times, such hellish plo●s were laid,  
Th●t diverse moral Virtues were gainsaid,  
Defamed, pursued, and wounded by their own;  
Whose glory had no● else been overthrown.  
●ust-de●ling hath been taken for Cruelty:  
Pure-love for Lust: upright Integrity  
For cunning Falsehood: yea, divinest Graces  
Have been at variance brought in diverse Cases,  
(By wicked Stratagems) that vain Inventions,  
M●ght frustrate pious works, and good intentions.  
To further stri●e, great Quarrels broached are,  
'twixt Faith and Works. There is another j●r  
Begun erewhile, betwixt no worse a pai●e,  
Then Preaching, and her blessed Sister Prayer.  
God grant they m●y agree; for, I ●e're knew  
A quiet Church, but where they kept one Pew.  
Faith and Repentance also are, of late,  
About their Birthright fallen at debate.  
But by the Church-bookes it appears to me  
Their Bir●hs and their Conceptions mentioned be  
Without such nice regard to their precedings,  
As some have urged in their needless plead.  
And, so it pleased the Father, Son and Spirit:  
Because that Law by which they shall inherit  
The promised meed; doth never question move,  
How soon or late, but how sincere they prove.  
Moreover, in this ●attell I espied  
Some Ambodexters', fight on either side.  
The Moralist, who all Religion wants;  
Church-Papists; Time-observing Protestants.  
All Double-dealers▪ Hypocrites, and such  
Base Neutrals, who have scandalised much,  
And much endangered those who do contend  
This ●le, from desolation, to defend.  
Beside these former Combatants, which fought  
Against or for us; I perceived, me thought,  
Both good and evil Angels fight too,  
The one, to help; the other, ham to do.  
And though thi● battle yet appeareth not  
To common view, so cruel nor so hot  
As I conceive it: yet it will appear  
To all in time, with comfort, or with fear.  
For, s●ill, and every day, those enemies  
Stand a●m'd and watching opportunities  
To seize us; and will seize us, if th●s● times  
Shall make complete the measure of our Crimes;  
Or our continuing ●ollies drive away  
Our Angel G●ard, which doth our ●all delay.  
Oh st●y them Lord! and make that side the stronger,  
For whom this Lan● sh●ll yet be sp●●ed longer.  
And let us, my dea●e Countrymen, with speed,  
Of that which so concerns us, take h●●d.  
Observe, thou famoust City of this L●nd,  
How heavily on thee God lays his hand.  
The very rumour of this Plague did make  
The farthest dwellers of this I'll to shak●:  
And such a sent of D●ath they seemed to c●ry,  
Who in o● nea●e about thy Climate tarry,  
That, from the Mount to Ba●w●ck they were hated,  
Or shunned, as persons excommunicated.  
●nd three weeks airing on old Sarum plain,  
Woul●●●arce a lodging for a brother gain.  
Yea, mark, ma●k London, and confess with me,  
That God ●at● justly thus afflicted thee,  
And that in every point this Plague hath been  
According to the nature of thy sin.  
In thy prosperity, such was thy pride,  
That thou the Country's plainness didst deride.  
Thy wanton Children would oft straggle out,  
At honest husbandmen to jeer and flou●.  
Their homely garments, did offend thine eyes:  
They did their rural Dia●ect● despise▪  
Their games and merriments (which for them, be  
As commendable, as are thine for thee)  
Thou laughedst at: their gestures, and their fashions,  
Their very diet, an● their habitations  
Were sported at: yea, those ingrateful Things,  
Did scoff them for their hearty Welcome;  
And taught even those that had been country-born  
The wholesome places of their birth to scorn.  
And, see, now see, those thankless ones are fain  
To seek their father's thatched Roofs again;  
And, ask those good old women blessing, whom  
They did not see, since they did rich become;  
And never would have seen, perhaps, unless  
This Plague had whipped their ingratefulness.  
Yea, thine own natural Children have been glad  
To scrape acquaintance where no friends they had;  
To praise a homely, and a smoky Shed;  
A dark low Parlour, an uneasy Bed;  
An ill dressed di●t; yea, perchance, commend  
A churlish Landlord, for an honest Friend;  
Yet be contented bo●h to pray and pay,  
That they may leave obtain with him to stay.  
And peradventure, some of those who played  
The scoffers heretofore, were fully pai●.  
Th●n, Citizens were sha●k●, and preyed upon,  
In recompense of wrong● before time done  
To silly Countrim●n; and were defeated  
Of ●ha●, whereof, some Rustics, they had cheated.  
Moreover, for the Country's imitations  
Of thy fantastic, vain, and fruitless fashions,  
(Of thy apparel, and of thy excess  
In Feasts, in Games, in Lust, in Idleness;  
With such abominations) some of those  
Who came from thee, shall doubtlessly dispose  
To every Shire a Vial of that wrath,  
Which thy transgression long deserved hath:  
That, thou and they, who sinners were together,  
May Rods be made to punish one another;  
And give each other bitterness to sup,  
As you have jointly quaffed of Pleasures Cup.  
As to and fro I walked, that I might  
On every ruthful Object fix my sight,  
Upon those Golgatha's I cast mine eye,  
Where all the comm●n people buried lie.  
Lie buried did I say? I should have said,  
Where Carcases to bury Graves were laid.  
Lord! what a sight was there? & what strong smells  
Ascended from among Death's loathsome Cells?  
You scarce could make a little Infant's bed  
In all those Plots, but you should pair a head,  
An arm, a shoulder, or a leg away,  
O● one or other who there buried lay.  
One grave did often many scores enclose  
Of men and women: and, it may be those  
That could not in two Parishes agree,  
Now in one little room at quiet be.  
Yonn lay a heap of skulls; another there;  
Here, half unburied did a Corpse appear.  
Close by, you might have seen a brace of feet  
That had kicked off the rotten winding-sheet.  
A little further saw we othersome,  
Thrust out th●ir arms for want of elbow room.  
A lock of woman's hair; a dead man's face  
Uncovered; and a ghastly sight it was.  
Oh! here, here viewed I what the gl●ries be  
Of pampered flesh: here plainly did I see  
How grim those beauty's will e'er long appear,  
Which we so dote on, and so cove●, here.  
Here was enough to cool the hottest flame  
Of lawless lust. Here, was enough to tame  
The ma●st ambition. And, all they that go  
Vnbettered from such objects; worse do grow.  
From hence (fo● here was no abiding long)  
Our Allies and our Lanes, I walked among,  
Where those Artificers their dwellings had,  
By whom our idle Traders rich are made.  
The Plague raved there indeed. For, who were they  
Whom th●t Contagion fastest swept away  
But those whose d●ily labouring hands did feed  
Their honest Families? and greatly steed  
This place by their mechanic industries?  
These are the swarms of Bees, w●ose painful thighs  
Bring Wax unto this Hive; and from whose bones  
The Honey drops, that feedeth many Drones.  
These are the Bulwarks of this senseless Town,  
And when this Wall of Bones is overthrown,  
Our stately Dwellings, now both fair and tall,  
Will quickly, of themselves, to ruin fall.  
Of these, and of their households, dai●y died  
Twice more than did of all sorts else beside;  
And hungry Poverty (without reliefs)  
Did much inrag● and multipliply their griefs.  
The Rich could fly; or, if they stayed, they had  
Such means that their disease the less was made▪  
Yea, those poor aged folks that make a show  
Of greatest need, did boldly come and go,  
To ask men's Alms▪ or what their Parish granted;  
An● nothing at this time those people wanted,  
But thankfulness▪ less malice to ea●h other;  
A●d grace to live more quietly together.  
Their bodies, dried with age, were seldom struck  
By this Disease▪ Their neighbour's notice took  
Of all their wants. Among them, were not many  
That had ●ull family's. Or if that any  
Of these had children sick; some good supplies  
Were sent them from the general Charities.  
Moreover, common Beggars are a nation  
Not always keeping in one habitation.  
They can remove as time occasion brings:  
They have their progresses as well as King;  
And most of these, when hence the rich did go,  
Removed themselves into the Country too.  
The rest about our streets did ask their bread,  
And never in their lives, were fuller fed.  
But, those good people mentioned before,  
Who, till their work did fail them, fed the poor  
As well as others; and maintained had  
Great families, by ●ome laborious trade:  
Ev'● those di● suffer most. For, neither having  
Provision left them, nor the face o● craving;  
Nor means of labour: First, to pawn they sent  
Their brass and pewter: t●en, their bedding went.  
Their garments next▪ or stuff of best esteem:  
At length, even that which should the rest redeem,  
Their working Instruments. When that was gone,  
Their Lease was pawned, if it might be done.  
And peradventure, at the last of all,  
These things were sold outright for sums but small▪  
Or else quite forfeited. For, here were they  
Who made of these poor souls, a gainful prey.  
And as one Plague had on the li●e a power,  
So did these other Plagues, their goods devour.  
When all was gone, afflicted they became  
With secret griefs, with poverty, and shame.  
And, wanting cheerful minds, and due refection,  
Were seized on, the soone●, by Infection:  
For, hearts half broke, and households fa●●isht near▪  
Are quickly spent, when visited they are.  
The careful Master, though it would have saved  
A servants life, to get him what he craved,  
No kind of Medicine able was to give him;  
Nay scarce with bread and water to relieve him▪  
The tender hearted Mother, hath for meat  
Oft heard her dearest child, in vain, entreat;  
And had or four or five on point of dying  
At once, for drink to ease their torment, crying.  
The loving husband sitting by her side,  
To save whose life he gladly would have died,  
Unable was out of his whole estate,  
To purchase her a dram of Mithridate;  
One mess of Cordial broth, or such like thing,  
Although it might prevent her perishing.  
Sometime, at such a need, abroad they came,  
To ask for help; but, then, the fear of shame,  
Of scorn, or of denial, them withheld  
To put in practice, what their want compelled.  
Upon an Evening (when the warning light  
Was that which could be called nor day nor night)  
I met with one of these, who on me cast  
A ●ut●full eye: and a● he by me past,  
Me thought, I heard him, softly, somewhat say,  
As if that he for some relief did pray:  
Whereat (he seeming in good cloth●s to be)  
I stayed, and asked him, if he spoke to me.  
He bashfully replied; that, indeed  
He was ashamed to speak aloud, what Need  
Did make him softly mutter▪ Somewhat more  
He would have spoken, but his tongu● forbore  
To tell the re●t; b●cause his eyes did see  
Their tears had (almost) drawn fo●th tears from me,  
And that my hand was ready to bestow  
That help which my poor fortunes could allow▪  
Nor his, nor all me●s tongues, coul● mo●e relate,  
Then I myself conceived of hi● estate.  
Me thou●ht, I saw, as if I had been there,  
What w●nts in his, and such men's houses were;  
How empty, and how naked it became▪  
How nasty, Poverty h●d made the same▪  
Methought I saw, how sick● his wife mightily;  
Methought I heard his half starved children cry;  
Me thou●●t I felt, with what a broken heart  
He looked upon t●em, ere he could depart  
To try, i● (by God's ●avour) he could meet  
With any means of comfort in the street.  
And, Lord my God, thou knowst, that, when alone  
The griefs of such as these, I mused on;  
My pity I with watery eye● have shown,  
And more bewailed their sorrows, than my own▪  
But, since those Dews are vain that fruitless be;  
And since the share that is allotted me▪  
Of this world's heritage, will not suffice  
To bring relieve to these men's miseries;  
Oh! let my tears (ye ri●h men) make your ground  
With fruits of Charity the more abound.  
Let me entreat you, tha●, when God shall bring  
Upon this place, another Visiting,  
You would remember, some relief to send  
To those, who on their labours do depend,  
And have not got their impudence of ●ace,  
Who idly beg their bread from place to place.  
God, you the S●ewards of his goods doth make,  
And how you use them, he accou●t will take.  
It will not be enough, that you have paid  
The public taxes on your houses laid;  
Or that▪ you, now and then, do send a sum  
To be disposed, to you know not whom:  
But, you your selves, must, by yourselves alone,  
Those neighbour's, o● acquaintance think upon,  
Who likeliest are in such a time of need,  
To want of t●at, wherein you do exceed:  
And, if you know of none, inquire them out;  
Or leave some honest neighbour thereabout,  
To be your Alm'ner (when the Town you leave)  
That, yo●, and they, a Blessing may receive▪  
For, if that every wealth man w●uld find  
But one, or two, to cherish in this kind:  
God's wrath would much the better be appeased,  
And we should of our plagues be sooner eased  
As I request the Richer men to take  
This pious course; A suit, I likewise m●ke  
That our inferior Tradesmen, would not so  
Abuse their times of profit, as they do.  
For, most of those do live at rates as high,  
As all their gains (at utmost) will supply.  
Yea, many times they mount above t●e tops  
Of present fortunes, and ensuing hopes:  
That, if a sickness, or unlooked for Cross,  
Or want of trade, or any slender loss,  
But for a Year, a Quarter, or a Term,  
Befalls them: it soon maketh so infirm  
Their overstrained Estates; that Alms are neede●,  
Ere any failin●s are by others heeded.  
Of these, and other things I notions gained,  
Whilst in our sickly City I remained;  
And much I contemplated what I saw,  
Some profitable uses thence to draw.  
But, feeling that my thought● nigh 〈◊〉 were,  
With over-musing on those objects there:  
I thought to walk abroad into the ●●eld,  
To take those comforts, which f●esh air doth yield;  
And, to revive my heart, which heavy grew,  
With what the streets did offer to my view;  
But little ease I found; for, there mine eye●  
Discovered Sorrow in a new disguise:  
And in so many shapes, himself he showed,  
That, still my passion was afresh renewed.  
Her●, dead upon the Road, a man did lie,  
That was (an hour before) as well, as 〈◊〉▪  
There, sat another, who did thither come  
In health, but had not strength to bear him home.  
Yonn, sprauled a third, so sick, he did not know  
Fro● whence he came, nor whither he should go.  
A little further off, a fourth did creep  
Into a ditch, and there his Obits keep.  
Abo●t the Fields ran one, who being fled  
(In spite of his attendance) from his bed,  
Looked like a Lunatic from Bedlam broken;  
And, though of health he had no hopeful token;  
Yet, t●at he ailed aught, he would not yield,  
Till Death had, stru● him dead upon the field.  
This way, a Str●nger by hi● Host expelled,  
That way, a Servant (shut from where he dwelled)  
Came weakly staggering fo●th, and (crushed beneath  
Diseases, and unkindness) sought for Death;  
Which soon was f●●nd and glad was he, they say,  
Who for his Deathbed gained a Cock of Hay  
At this cross pa●h, were Bearers fetching home  
A Neighbour, who in health did thither come:  
Close by, were others digging up the ground,  
To hide a stranger whom they dead had found.  
Before me, went with Corpses, many a one;  
Behind, as many more did ●ollow on,  
With running sores, one begged at yonder gate:  
At next Lanes end, another Lazar sat.  
Some halted, as if wounded in the wars;  
Some held their necks awry, some showed their scars▪  
Some, met I weeping, for the loss of friends;  
Some others, for their swift approaching ends;  
And every thing with sorrow was affected,  
On whatsoever it was mine eye reflected.  
The Prospect, which was wont to greet mine eye  
With shows of pleasure in variety,  
(And looked, as if it cheerfully did smile,  
Upon the bordering Villages, ere while.)  
Had no such pleasingness as heretofore,  
For every place, a mask of sorrow wore.  
The walks are unfrequented, and the path  
Late trodden bare, a grassy Carpet hath.  
I could not see (of all t●ose Gallants) one  
That visited Hyde-park, and Mary-borne.  
None w●ndred through the pastures, up and down▪  
But, as about some pe●ty Country town:  
Nor could I view in many Summer's days,  
One man of note to ride upon our ways.  
Lord, w●at a d●ff●rence didst thou put between  
That Summer, and the rest that I have seen!  
How didst thou change our Fields! and what a face  
Of Sadness, didst thou set upon each place!  
Yet oh! how few remember it, or feel  
The touches of it, on their hearts of s●eele!  
And when our banished ●●i●h thou didst renew,  
Who did return to thee the praises due?  
What others apprehended, they know best;  
But if it could be fully here exp●e●●  
What of that alteration I conceived▪  
When of their pleasures, God our fields bereaved;  
It would much mo●e be minded: For they had  
Nought in them, but what moved to be sad.  
Not many weeks, before, it was not so.  
But, pleasures, had their passage to and fro.  
Which way so●ver from our Gates I went,  
I lately did behold with much content,  
The fields bestrowed with people all about:  
Some paceing homeward, ●nd some passing out.  
Some, by the banks of ●hame their pleasure taking;  
Some, Sulli-bibs, among the Milkmaids, making;  
With music, some upon the waters, rowing;  
Some, to t●e next adjoining Hamlets going;  
And Hogsdone, Islington, and Tethnam-Court,  
For Cakes and Cream▪ had then no small resort.  
Some, sit and wooed their Love●s in the shadows;  
Some, straggled to and fro athwart the meadows;  
Some, in discourse, their hours, away did pass;  
Some, played the toyish wantoness on the grass;  
Some, of Religion; some of business talked;  
Some coached were▪ some horsed; and some walked.  
Here Citizens; there Students, many a one;  
Here too together; and, yonn one alone.  
Of Nymphs and Ladies. I have often eyed  
A thousand walking at one Evening tide;  
As many Gentleman: and young and old  
Of meaner sort, as many▪ ten time's told.  
And, when I did from some high Tower survey  
The Rod●s, and Paths, which round below me lay,  
Observing how each passage thronged was  
W●●h men and cattle, which both ways did pass;  
How many petty path●, both far and near,  
With rows of people sti●l supplied were;  
What infinite provision still came in,  
And what abundance hath exported been;  
Methought this populous City and the trade  
Which we from every Coast about her had,  
Was well resembled by an Ant-hill, which  
(In some old Forest) is made lar●e, and ●ich  
By those laborious creatures, who have thither  
Brought all their wealth, and Colonies together.  
For, as their peopled Borough ha●h resort  
From every quarter, by a several Port,  
And from each Gate thereof a great Rode hath  
That branches into many a little Path;  
And, as those Negroes do not only fill  
Each great and lesser tracked unto th●ir hill,  
But, also, spread themselves out of those ways,  
Among the grass, the leaves, and bushy sprays:  
Even s●, ●he people here, did come and go  
Through our large Rhodes; disperse themselves into  
A thousand passages; and, often stray  
O'er neighbouring Pastures, in a pathless way.  
This, formerly I saw; and, on that Station,  
Where this I marked; I had this Contemplation.  
How happy were this People, did they know  
What rest, our God upon them did bestow!  
On us, what show●es of blessings hath he reigned,  
Which he from other Cities hath restrained?  
And, from how many mischiefs hath be freed us▪  
Which ●all on those that in good works exceed us▪  
Here lurk no ravenous Beasts to make a prey  
On those fat Cattles which these Fields o're-lay.  
Within our Gro●es no cruel Outlaws hide,  
That in the blood of passengers are died.  
Our Lambs, unworryed, lie abroad, benighted;  
By day, our Virgins walk the Fields unfrighted.  
No neighbouring Country doth our food forestall;  
No Convoys need to come and g●e withal;  
No foreign Prince can suddenly appall us,  
For Seas do mote us, and huge Rocks do wall us.  
No rotten Fens do make our air unsound;  
No Foe, doth with a trench enclose us round.  
We neither tumults have by night or d●y,  
Nor rude unruly Garrisons in pay.  
No Taxes, yet, our Land doth over-load:  
Our Children are not pressed for wars abroad.  
From Spanish Inquisitions we ar● free;  
(God grant that we, for ever, so may be)  
We are compelled to no Idolatries;  
Our people do not in rebellions rise:  
No factious spirits much disturb the State;  
No Plagues, our dwellings, yet, depopulate.  
No Rots or Murraines have our cattle killed:  
Our Barns and Storehouses, with fruits are filled:  
On every threshold, store o● children play;  
Our breeding cattle fill both street and way.  
And, were we thankful unto him that gave them,  
There are no blessings, but we here might have them.  
See, how like Bees upon a Summer-Eve,  
(When their young Nymphs have ove●-fill'd the hive)  
They swarm about the City, sporting so,  
As if a winter gale would never blow.  
How little d●e they dream, how many times,  
While ●hey deserved ruin for their Crimes,  
God, naitheless●, hath showed mercies on them,  
And s●opt those Plagues that coming were upon them!  
How seldom is it thought, the power of him,  
●hose love they much forg●t (if not contemn)  
Might heap upon t●em all t●ose fearful things,  
Which he upon our neighbouring Nations brings.  
For, in a moment, he could s●mmon hither  
His judgements, and inflict them, all together.  
Even all. B●t, one of those which he hath brought  
On other Cities, would enough be thought.  
If in displeasure ●e should call from thence  
Where now it r●ves, the slaughtering Pestilence,  
Or else the Famine▪ what a change ●ere that,  
To them that are so healthy, ●nd so fat?  
How desolate, in less t●en half a year,  
Might all our lodgingss and o●r streets appear?  
How unfrequented would that rendezvous  
Be m●de, in which, we throng, and just ●e now?  
How lonely would these walk●s and fields be found,  
Wherein I s●e the people s● abound?  
Or, should ●e w●istle for his armed Bands,  
(Which now are wasting ●ther Christian Lands)  
To put in action on our Comic Stage  
The Tragedies of War, and brutish rage:  
What lamentations then here would be made,  
And calling unto mind, what peace we had?  
Should we in every house▪ at board and bed  
Have So●ldiers and rude Captains bille●ed,  
That would command, and swagger as if they  
Had all the Towneship (where they lodge) in pay,  
To w●it upon their pleasures; and should see  
Our own defenders, our devourers be.  
Should we behold these Fields (now full of sport)  
Cut out with T●enches; there, a warlike Fort;  
Another here; A Sconce not far from that;  
A new raised Mount, or some fire-spitting Cat,  
From which the Foes our actions might survey,  
And ma●e their B●llets on our houses play.  
Should we behold our Dwellings beaten down;  
Our Temples battered; Turrets over thrown;  
Our seats of pleasure b●rning from afar;  
Hear, from without, the thundering voice of War▪  
Within, the shrieks of children, or the cry  
Of women, struck with fears, or famished nigh.  
Should we behold, what painfully we got,  
Possessed by those that seek to cut our thr●at;  
Our children slain befor● us, on the ground;  
Ourselves pierced through with some deep mortal wound;  
And see (even there) where we have wantonnized,  
Our beauteous wives, by some stern Troup surprised,  
And ravished in our view. Or (which is worse)  
When we have seen all this, be forced perforce  
To live; and live their slaves that shall possess  
Our wives, and all our outward happiness;  
And, then, want also, that pure Word of Grace  
To comfort us, which yet adorns this place.  
Should such a Destiny (as God defend)  
This people, and this place, thought I, attend.  
(For, this may be; and every day we hear  
That other Nations do this burden b●are)  
Should we who now for pleasure walk the field,  
Be sane to search what weeds the pastures yield  
To feed us; and peak hungerly about,  
Some Roots, or Haws, or Berries to find out,  
To keep from starving; and not gain a food  
So mean, without the hazard of our blood:  
Should some contagious sickness, noisome make  
This place, wherein, such pleasure now we take:  
Should in these places, whither we repair  
Our bodies to refresh with wholesome air,  
Those blast or Sereneses upon us fall,  
Which other places are anoy'd withal.  
Should from the wife the husband be divorced,  
Or from the parent should the child be forced,  
While here they walk●, and perish by the sword:  
Or, should here be a famine of the Word,  
On which would follow, to our grief and shame,  
A thousand other Plagues which I could name.  
Should th●se things be; then w●at our blessings are  
It would by such a curse too soon appear.  
Then, fe●le we should, what comforts might arise  
From those great mercie●, which we now despise,  
Or think not on. Yea, so we might enjoy  
But part of that which now we mis-employ,  
We thi●ke it would, a greater happiness,  
Then, yet we find in all we now possess.  
We than should know how much we have b●ene blest  
In our long time of plenty▪ health, and rest:  
How sweet it is that we may to and fro  
Without restraint, or fear, or danger go;  
How much we owe to him that hath so long  
Our Granards filled, and our Gates made strong;  
Permitting us to walk for our delight  
About our fields, whilst others march to fight;  
And suffering us to least, whilst others fast,  
Or, of the bread of sour Affliction taste.  
As heretofore the peopled Fields I walked,  
To this effect, my thoughts within me talked;  
And though all present Objects gave content,  
My heart did such Ideas represent  
Of judgements likely to be cast upon  
So great a City, and a sinful one;  
That much I feared, I should live to see,  
Some such afflictions, as here mentioned be.  
And lo, (though yet, I hope, not in his wrath)  
God, part of that I feared, inflicted hath:  
A warning War he hath begun to wage  
Against the crying sins of this our age,  
And of this place: And in a gentle wise  
Poured out a taste of those Calamities  
Which other feel at large: that, we should mourn●  
For our transgressions, and to him return.  
Vouchsafe, oh! God, that soon return we may,  
Lest thou, in anger, sweep us all away.  
If we observed, well, what God hath done,  
And in what manner, he with us begun;  
How he forewarned us of those Plagues, which he  
Vouchsafed David should a chooser be:  
(And how, even he himself, in mercy choosed,  
To keep us from what David had refused)  
We should perceive, that our most loving God  
At first did threaten, with a Fathers rod.  
A little while before this Pestilence,  
Of his just wrath we had intelligence  
By diverse tokens▪ which we did contemn,  
O●, at the best, but little heeded them.  
The Spring before this Plague, one jerk we had  
By WAR, which made no little number sad,  
By calling many from their ease; by taking  
Some husbands from their wives, & childless making  
Some Parents: which permitted was to show us  
In part, what sharp corrections God did owe us.  
And make us mind, that this unhallowed place  
Is thus long spared merely of his grace.  
Else, to awake us with some touch of that  
Which he hath brought on many a foreign State.  
For, that he might but touch us, he did call  
No Armies hither, to afflict us all.  
But, as a General in time of war,  
When all his Troops of somewhat guilty are;  
On them the fortune of the lot doth try,  
That some as warnings to the rest may dye:  
Even so, the God of Armies, in like case,  
Picked, here and there a man, f●om every place,  
To meet the sword: that, every place might learn,  
His Mercies, and his justice to discern,  
And, leave off sin; which, if we break not from,  
His Plague●, and terrors all, w●ll shortly come.  
If any shall object, we lost in these  
But some corrupted blood, which did disease  
The common Body: Let them understand,  
That it portends hot Fevers in the Land,  
When suc● Phlebotomy is needful thought:  
And, that, good blood, as well as what is nought,  
Is lost at every op●ni●g of a vein.  
The foot was pricked, and we did feel no pain;  
The next blood letting may be in the Arm,  
Where lies our strength▪ God shend us from the harm  
Of such like Surgery; unless we see  
The Sign be better than it seems to be.  
God scared us, lately, also, by a Dearth,  
And for the people's faults did curse the Earth.  
The Winter last before the Pes● began,  
Throughout some Northern Shires a Famine ran,  
That starved some; and other some were fain,  
Their hungry appetites to entertain  
With swine, and sheep, and horses, which have died  
By chance: For, better coul● they not provide.  
Some others on boiled nettles gladly fed,  
Or else had oft gone supperless to bed.  
And this was much, considering the soil  
And ordinary plenties of this I'll.  
Nay, since the Sickness, we small hope● possessed,  
Of ●hat, wherewith, this Kingdom, God hath blessed.  
For, when Earth's womb did big with plenty grow,  
When her large bosom, and full breasts, did show  
Such signe● of fair increase, that hope of more  
Was never in our lifetimes, heretofore:  
A later frost, our early blossoms cropped;  
The heavens, upon our labour●, leanness dropped;  
An● such perpetual showers, and floods we had,  
That o● a Famine, we were fearful made,  
And scarce had any hope (in common reason)  
Of harvest either in, or out of season.  
Yet, he withheld that Plague. The Sky grew clear;  
A kindly weather drove away our flare;  
The Floods did sink; the Mildews were expelled;  
The bending ears of ●orne, their heads up held;  
And Harvest came, which filled our Granards more,  
Then in the fruitfull'st, of seven years before.  
And, doubtless▪ had we gone to meet our God,  
Wi●● true repentance, when this fearful Rod  
Was raised first; it had away be●ne flung,  
And not continued in this Realm so long.  
For, as a Father, when his dearest chil●  
Grows disobedient, rude, and over-wilde,  
●irst warns; th●n threatens; then, the rod doth show;  
T●en frowns; and then doth fear him with a blow.  
Th●● doubles, and redoubles it, until  
He makes him grow more pliant to his will,  
And leave those wanton tricks, which in conclusion  
May prove th● parents' grief, and child's confusion.  
Even as this Father; so, our God h●th wrought.  
Us, by his Word of Grace, he first besought:  
T●en▪ of his Wrath, and justice spoke unto us:  
Next, hanging over u●, he plagues did show us.  
Yea, diverse months before this Vengeance came,  
The spotted Fever did forewarn the same.  
Was made her Harbinger; and in one week  
Sent hu●dreds, in the Grave, their bed to seek.  
Which nought prevailing, he did thereupon  
(As being loath to strike) first strike but one.  
Then, two or three: then slaid a while; and than  
To smi●e another number he began,  
And then a greater. Neither did God show  
This mercy, only, in the public blow;  
But deigned it, also, in that chastisement,  
Which he to every man in private sent.  
To hasten his repentance; first, he smote  
Some one of those he knew, in place remote;  
Within a wreak, another better known;  
Next week a friend; the next a dearer-one;  
A little after that, perhaps, an●ther;  
And then a kinsman, or ●n only brother.  
Which no amendment working, God did come  
(To make him heedful) somewhat nearer home:  
Knocked at h●s neighbours house, and took out all  
Or most, who lodged on other side the wall:  
Then called at his door, and seized on  
A servant fi●st; soon afterward, a son;  
Next night wa● hazarded a daughter's life;  
And e'er that morning c●me, he lost his wife:  
At last fell sick himself, and then repent,  
Or died, or liveth to be worse tormented.  
Thus, as it were by steps, God came upon us,  
That either Love or Terror might have won us,  
To seek our peace. But, yet, so ●ew were warned,  
(And this long suffering, so few souls discerned)  
That some the nature of this Plague belied;  
The number of the dead, som● strove to hide.  
On groundless hopes, ●ods judgements, some deferred.  
Some scofted others, when they were deterred.  
Some raised a profit from it. Yea, so few  
Conceived what was likely to ensue;  
That, when we should like Niniveh have fared,  
For sports, and causeless Triumphs we prepared▪  
Of pleasure, in excessive wise, we ●asted.  
We feasted, when we rather should have f●sted.  
And when in sackcloth we should loud have cried,  
Even then, we ruffled in our greatest pride.  
Which God perceiving, and that we were grown  
Regardless of his smiles, and of his frown;  
He did comm●n● his Mercy, to let go  
That hand, which did restrain his justice so.  
Then, catching up a Vial of his wrath,  
(W●ich he in store for such offenders hath)  
He did on thi● our City, pour it down.  
And, as strong poison shed upon the crown,  
Descendeth to the members, from the head;  
And, soon, doth over all the body spread:  
Even so, this noisome plague of Pestilence,  
On our head City Falling, did from thence,  
Disperse, and soak throughout this Emp●ry,  
In spite of all our carnal policy.  
Our want of penitency, to allay  
God's wrath, and stop his anger in the way,  
Inflamed and exasperated so  
This F●end, that he did thousands overthrow  
In ●ome few minutes: and▪ the greedy Grave  
Devoued, as if it none alive would save.  
Death lurked at every angle of the s●eet,  
And did a●rest whom ever he did meet.  
There scarcely was that house or lodging found,  
In which he did not either slay or wound.  
In every room his murders acted he,  
Our Closets nay our Temples were not free  
From his attempt; no not while men prayed,  
Could his unb●idled fury be delayed.  
In sundry Families the●e was not one  
Whom his rude hand did take compassion on:  
Nay many times he did not spare the last,  
Until the burial of the first was passed.  
For, ere the Bearers back again could come,  
The rest were r●ady ●or their graves at home.  
Nor bad nor good, nor rich nor poor did scape him,  
Nor fool nor wiseman, an excuse could shape him:  
He shunned not the young man in the saddle,  
Nor him that lay and cried in the cradle.  
So dreadful was his look, so stern and grim,  
That many died through very fear of him.  
For, to men's fancies he did oft ap●ea●e  
In shapes which so exceedi●d ghastly were,  
That flesh and blood, unable was, to brook,  
The horror of his all affrighting look.  
Even in that house, whose roof did cover me,  
Of this, a sad experiment had we:  
For, there, a plague-sick● man (at least) conceived  
That Death a shape assuming, he perceived  
Deformed and ugly; where at lou● he cries,  
Oh! hi●e me, hide me, ●rom his dreadful ey●s.  
Look, oh! look there he comes: now by the ●ed  
He stands; now at the f●●t; now at the head.  
Oh! draw, draw, draw the Curtain, Si●s I pray,  
That his grim loo●e no more behold I may.  
To this ●ffect, and such like wo●ds he spoke,  
But that their hearers hearts they more did sh●●e.  
Then, rested he a while, and by and by  
Up starting, with a lamentable cry,  
Ran to a Couch, whereon his wife (who waking  
Two nights b●fore had been) some ●est was taking;  
There, kneeling down, & both his hands up rearing,  
As if his eye had seen pale Death appearing  
To st●ike his wife; Good Sir, said he, forbear  
To kill or h●m● that poor young woman there:  
For God's sake do not strike her; for you s●e  
She's great w●th child. Lo, you have wounded me  
In twenty places; and I do not c●re  
How me you mischief, so that her you spare.  
Even this, and more than I to mind can call,  
He acted with a look so tragical,  
Tha●, all by standers▪ might have ●hou●ht▪ his eyes  
Saw real objects, and no fantasies.  
To others, Death, no doubt, himself convaid  
In other forms; and other Pageants played.  
Whilst in her arms the mother thought she kept  
Her Infant saf●; Death stole him when she slept.  
Sometime he took the mother's life away,  
And left the little babe, to lie and play  
With her cold paps, and childish game to make  
About those eyes, that never mo●e shall wake.  
Sometimes when friends were talking, he did force  
The one to leave unfinished his discourse.  
Sometimes, their morning meetings he hath thwarted,  
Who thought not they for ever had been parted,  
The night before. And, many a lovely Bride,  
He hath deflowered by the Bridegroom's side.  
At every hand, lay one or other dying;  
On every part, were men and women crying,  
One for a husband; for a friend another;  
One for a sister, wife, or only brother:  
Some children for their parent's moan were making▪  
Some, for the loss of servants care were taking;  
Some parents for a child; and some again  
●or loss of all their children did complain.  
The mother dared not to close her eyes,  
Through fear that while she sleeps, her baby dies.  
Wives trusted not their husbands out of door,  
Lest they might back again return no more.  
And in their absence if they did but hear  
One knock or call in haste, they quaked through fear,  
That some unluckily messenger had brought  
The news of those mischances they forethought.  
And if (with care and grief o're-tyred) they slept,  
They dreamed of Ghosts, & Graves, & shrieked, & wept.  
He that o'er night went healthy to his b●d,  
Looked▪ ere the morning, to be sick, or dead.  
He that rose Iusty, at the rising Sun,  
Grew faint, and breathless, ere the day was done  
And, he that for his friend, this day did sorrow,  
Lay close beside him in a grave the morrow.  
Some men amidst their pleasures were diseased▪  
Some, in the very act of sin were seized:  
Some, hence were taken laughing, and some singing:  
Some, as they others to their graves were bringing,  
Yea, so impartial was this kind of Death,  
And so extremely venomous his breath,  
That they who did not in this place expire,  
Where saved, like the Children in the fire▪  
It may be that to some it will appear,  
My Muse hath only poetized here;  
And that I fa●n'd expressions do rehearse,  
As most of those that use to wri●e in verse:  
But, in this Poem I pursue the story  
Of real Truth, without an Allegory:  
And many yet surviving witness may,  
That I come short of what I more might say.  
But, what I can I utter; and I touch  
This mournful string, so often, and so much,  
As in this Book I do; that I might show  
To them that of these griefs forgetful gro●,  
What sorrows and what dangers ●hey have had;  
That all of us more thankful may be made:  
And if to any these things do appear  
Or tedious, or impertinent; I fear  
That most of them are they, who take no pleasure,  
For good and useful things to be at l●isure.  
And more delight in Poems worded out,  
Th●● those that are Gods works employed about.  
Me thinks, I cannot speak enough of that  
Which I have seen; nor full enough relate  
What I declare; but 〈◊〉 it seems to me  
I leave out somewhat that should uttered be.  
For, though in most, the sense thereof be gone,  
It was God's judgement, and a fearful one.  
And, LONDON, what availed then thy pride,  
Thy pleasures, and thy wealth so multiplied?  
Or, then, oh! what advantage didst thou get  
By those vain things, whereon thy heart is set?  
How many several Plagues did God prevent,  
Before this judgement was upon thee sent?  
How many loving ●avours had he done thee,  
Before so roughly he did seize upon thee?  
And, that thou mightst his purposes discover,  
How long together, did he send thee over  
The weekly news, of those great Desolations,  
Which he infl●cts on many ot●er Nations?  
How often did he send, ere this befell,  
His Prophets, of his Iudgements●o ●o foretell?  
How many thousand Preac●ers hath he sent,  
With tears, to pray, and woe thee ●o repent?  
To ●ell t●ee, that thy pride, and thy excess,  
Thy lusts, thy surfeits, and thy drunkenness,  
Thine idleness, thy great impieties,  
Thy much profaneness, thy hypocrifies,  
And other vanities, would bring at last  
Those plague's wher● of thou now some feeling haste▪  
How did thy Pastors to repent conjure thee?  
How strongly did God's Ministers assure thee  
That all thy love, thy labour, and thy cost  
Bestowed on carnal pleasures, would be lost?  
That, t●ou hereafter shouldst become ashamed  
Of that whereof thy comforts thou hadst framed;  
And that those evils would at length befall  
From which no mortal hand reprieve thee shall.  
‛ Thou canst not but acknowledge these things were  
Even every moment, rounded in thine care;  
And that thy Sons of Thunder did presage  
What, for thy sins, should be thine heritage.  
Yet, thou to hear their message didst refuse.  
And, as the stubborn unbelieving jews,  
Despised all those Prophets, who foreshowed  
The times of their approaching servitude,  
Yea, punished them, as troublers of the Land,  
And such as weakened much the people's hand:  
So, thou accountedest of thy Teachers, then,  
But as a crew of busy-headed men,  
Who causelessly, thy quietness disturbing,  
Had for their sauciness, deserved curbing.  
But with amazement, now thou dost behold,  
That they have no uncertainties foretold.  
For, God in this one single Plague, comprised  
Those other judgements, all, epitomised;  
Which for thy ruin he at large will send,  
If this be not enough to work his end.  
Observe this Pestilence, and thou shalt see,  
That as there may be some one sin in thee  
With other great Transgressions interlaced,  
So, diverse Plagues in this great Plague were placed,  
It showed thee (in some fashion) their dist●esses,  
Whom WAR, in a besieged Fort oppresses:  
For, lo, thou wert deprived of all Trade,  
As if t●y Foes blocked up thy River had.  
And, though no armed Host thy wall surrounded,  
Yet (which was worse) thou by thy friends wert bounded:  
For, whatsoever person passed f●om  
Thy Ports, upon an enemy did come.  
And none more cruel to thy children proved,  
Then some of thine, who from thy Plague's removed.  
Confusion, and Disorder, threatn●d thee,  
(On which attendeth all the Plague's that be)  
For, most of thy grave Senate, who did bear  
Thy names of office, far departed were,  
To other places; leaving thee, nigh spent  
And languishing for want of Government.  
Yea, they that were thy Trust, and thy Delight,  
In times of health, did then forsake thee quite;  
To teach us, that those men, and vanities,  
Which have our hearts, in our prosperities,  
Will in affliction be the first who leave us;  
And, when we most expect, then most deceive us.  
Oh! whither then; oh! whither were they gone,  
Who, thy admired Beauty doted on?  
Where did thy Lovers in those days appear,  
Who did so court thee, and so often swear  
Affection to thee? whither were they fled,  
Whom thou hast oft with sweetest junkets fed?  
And they, whom thou so many years, at ease,  
Didst lodge within thy fairest Palaces?  
Where London, were thy scarlet Fathers hou●'d,  
Who in thy glory, were to thee espoused?  
What were become of all thy children, whi●h  
W●re nursed at thy breast, made great, and rich  
By thy good-huswifry? and whom we see  
In thy prosperity so hugged of thee?  
Where were thy reverend Pastors, who had pay  
To feed thy Flocks, and for thy sin to p●ay?  
(I must confess) the meanest, and some few  
Of better sort, were in affection true,  
And gave thee comfort. But, oh! where were those,  
Those greater ones, on whom thy hand bestows  
The largest portions? Those, who have professed  
A zealous care of thee, above the rest?  
Those, who (as I conceive) had undertaken  
A charge that should not then have been forsaken?  
Those many silken-Doctors, who did here  
In shining satin Cassocks late appear?  
They who (till now, a thing scarce heard of ever)  
Do flaunt it in their Velv●●, Plush, and Beaver.  
And they, whom thou didst honour far above  
Those mean ones, who, then, showed thee most love?  
Where were they? &, where were thy Lawyers too  
That heretofore, did make so much ado  
Within thy Courts of justice? Prithee, where  
Were those Physicians, who so forward were  
To give thee physic, when thou neededst l●sse,  
And wert but sick, of ease, and wantonness?  
Where did their foot-cloths wait? whe●e couldst thou call  
For their assistance? what became of all  
Their Diets, and Receipts? and why did they  
In that necessity depart away?  
Where lurked those Poe●asters, who were wont  
To pen thy Mummeries, and vainly hunt  
For base reward, by soothing up the Crimes  
Of our Grand Epicures, in lofty Rhymes;  
And do before each others Poems raise  
The huitlesse Trophies of a truthless praise?  
Da●'d none of all those matchless wits to tarry  
This b●unt? That his experienced Muse might carry  
This News to after times; and move compassion,  
By his all-moving strains of Lamentation?  
What, none bu● me? me only leave they to it,  
To whom they s●ame to yield the Name of Poet?  
Well▪ if they ever had a mind to wear  
The Laureate Wreathe, they might have got it ●ere:  
For though that my performance may be bad,  
A braver Subject, Muses never had.  
Where were thy troops of Ro●ers? where were they  
Who in thy Chambers did t●e wantoness play?  
Provoking God Almighty, down to cast  
Those plagues from which they fled away so fast?  
Yea, wh●ther were tho●e Nothings, all retired,  
Of whom thou wer●, of late, so much desired?  
Alas! was there not any of all these  
Who stayed to comfort thee, in this Disease?  
Did all depart away? And, being gone,  
Leave thee to bear thy sorrows all alone?  
Left they upon thy Tally all that sin,  
Which had by them and thee, committed been?  
Yes, yes, they left thee: even all ●hese: and they  
So left thee, London, when they went away,  
That thy afflictions they did aggravate,  
And make more bitter thy deplored Fat●.  
A Dearth mixed also in this P●st was found,  
For they who did in riches most abound,  
(And should have holpen to relieve the poor)  
Departing hence, diminished thy store.  
To other Borroughes they themselves betook:  
Their sick distressed brethren, they forsook,  
And, lest on those th●t would be hospitable,  
A b●rthen which to bear they were unable.  
Those few, of worth, who did in thee remain,  
Had multitudes of beggars to sustain;  
And, from the Country (as before I said)  
The sending of supply was long delayed.  
There was a Famine also, which exceeded  
This other; though the same by few was heeded.  
We had not so much scarcity of bread,  
As of that food wherewith our souls are fed.  
For, of our Pastors (in the greatest dangers)  
Som● left us to the charity of Strangers.  
And, many souls, whom they were bound to cherish  
Deprived of timely sustenance, did perish.  
Who could have thought, this Vineyard, heretofore  
So fruitful; and wherein the savage Boar  
Of Turkey rooted not: and whose thick fence  
Hath long time kept, the Bulls of Bashan thence;  
Should then (even in the Vintage t●me) be found  
So bare of what, so lately did abound?  
And, than (a thing worth note) when every Field  
And meanest Villages did plenties yield?  
Indeed, not long before, we surfeited,  
And played the wantoness with our heavenly bread.  
Our appetite was cloyed; and we grew dainty,  
And either loathed, or murmured at our plenty.  
Yea, many of us, when at will we had it,  
By private Cookeries, unwholesome made it.  
For which, and for our base unthankfulness,  
Our portion and allowance waxed less:  
And, we who (like fond children) would not eat,  
Unless, this man, or that man carved our meat,  
Then (like poor folks, that of mere alms do live)  
Were glad to take of any that would give▪  
The Laborers were few; the Harvest large:  
And of the best of those that had the charge  
To spread God● ●able▪ so●e g●ew faint and tired  
By th●i● perpetual trav●ile: some expired  
Their painful soul ●s, and freely sacrificed  
Themselves for us, t●at we might be sufficed.  
Among which ●ap●y number I do ●lesse  
The memory of learned Mak●r●●sse,  
And zealous Eton, who●e l●rge ●●ng●●g●tions,  
Bemoaned their loss with h●a●ty lamentations.  
And worthily: for, ●hey di● labour here  
Wi●h cheerfulness and in their C●lli●gs were  
So truly diligent whilst vigour lasted,  
That they than li●e blood, yea ●hei● spi●its wasted;  
And even unslackt the very ne●ves and powers  
Of their own souls, to help enable ou●s.  
To bury, nigh a hundred in a day,  
To church, to ●arry, study, preach and pray;  
To make b● times; at ni●h● late watch to keep;  
To be disturbed at midnight from their sleep;  
To visit him that on his deathbed lies;  
Oft to communicate; more oft baptise;  
And daily (and all day) to be in action,  
As were those two, to give due satisfaction  
To their great Flocks; mo●e Laborers there needed;  
And their consumed strengths, it much exceeded.  
But they are now at re●●: their w●ke is done,  
Their Fight is finished: th●i● G●ale is won:  
And, though no Troph●e I to them can raise,  
Save, this poor withered Wreath of mortal praise;  
Their Master (to reward their faithfulness)  
For them reserved Crowns of Happiness;  
Because, unto his household, they the Bread  
Of life, in season, have distribute●.  
Nor was the ●ood of life diminished more  
By such men's want alone, then heretofore.  
But, to our discontent, we also had  
Our d●e allowances the sho●ter made  
Even by command. Fo●, some (I know not why)  
Had falsely misinformed Authority,  
That o●r promiscuous meetings, at the Fast,  
Increased the Plague: which wa● believed in haste.  
And being urged, perhaps, with such fane shewe●  
Of Reason, as conjecture cou●d in●u●e;  
(The matter ●ei●g aggravated too,  
With suc●●ntruth●, as travel to and fro)  
The public p●eaching on the Fasting day,  
Was, in an evil season, took aw●y.  
For, when the flesh was fed, and soul deprived  
Of two Repasts, which weekly we received,  
Profaneness, and hard-hea●tednesse began  
To get new rooting in the mind of man.  
We miss●● those good helps, and those examples  
Which had been preached to us in our Temples.  
The poor did want full quickly, to their grief,  
Those Alms the Fast b●ought out for their relief.  
And, when with Prayers, Preaching did not go,  
Our cold Devotions, did far colder grow.  
What instrument of mischief might he be  
Who caused that? And, what a ●oole was he!  
If Wensday-Sermons holp infect; I pray  
What kept us safer on the Sabbath day?  
Since most fast then till noon without refection?  
Or, what at Funerals, did stop infection?  
Good God in thy affairs, how vain (to me)  
Doth carnal Policy appear to be?  
How apt is flesh and blood to run a course,  
Which makes the soul's condition, worse and wo●se?  
To venture on eternal death how toward!  
And in a temporal danger what a coward!  
Su●e, had not such a project, had a scope  
Beyond the reaching of the Devil's hope,  
And be●n too damnable for any on●  
To be his Procurator thereupon;  
Some w●●l● have made the motion that we might  
Have lived excluded from our Churches quite:  
And, that ●ill ●od his hand should please ●o stay,  
None ●hould in public, either preach, or pray.  
' Twa● well the weekly number of the dead,  
By God's mere m●rcy, was diminished,  
Before t●e prohibition of the Fast:  
The Fiend had els●, for evermore, disgraced  
That Discipline: and carnal Policy  
H●d so insulted o'er Divinity,  
That, in succeeding Ages, men unholy,  
Would thence have proved, such Devotion, Folly.  
But, God prevented it, that we should take  
Go●d notice of it; and good uses make:  
And I have mentioned it, that here I may  
God's Wisdom and Man's foolishness display.  
Oh▪ let us to our Fasts again return;  
Let us, for our omissions truly mourn;  
And not capitulate with God, as though  
He, first his Rod out of his hand should throw,  
He●e we would come unto him: for, if thus  
A son of ou●s should bear himself to us,  
It would our●ire exasperate the more;  
And make the fault seem greater than before.  
Why should we in an action that is just  
The mercy of our gracious God distrust?  
Or, unto any place be loath to go,  
Where God is to be heard, or spoken to,  
Through fear of that which may be caught at home  
And in a thousand places where we come?  
Our sins and plagues were public: so should we  
In Prayers, and Tears, and Alms, and Fast be.  
●or, that s●rong D●vill which hath tortured thus  
Our general body, is not cast from us  
By single Ex●rcismos: neither ●hall  
Our privacies advantage us at all,  
Except in what conduces to the health  
Of private men, or of their private wealth.  
If we in close retirements (by our fear)  
At ma●kets, or where worse Assemblies are,  
Infected grow: the Devil, by and by  
With us persuadeth, either to belie  
The Church, our constant Fasting, or some one  
Good wo●ke, or pious action we have done.  
(As visiting the sick, in ti●e of need,  
Or any other such like Christian deed)  
For, he those practices doth greatly spite,  
And, to disparage them hath much delight:  
Because he sees, that such as are inclined  
To pious means, will soon by trial find,  
Good hopes to thrive beyond their expectations;  
Their knowledge, fool his cunning machinations;  
Their faiths grow strong; temptations weak appear;  
Their joy most perfect, where most sorrows are;  
And know, that when the Lord of Hosts is armed,  
With all his judgements, that, he lest is harmed,  
Who, bold through Love, selfe-trust quite f●om him throws  
And, runs with confidence to meet his blows.  
Let no man then be fearful to repairs  
Unto the house of Preaching, or of Prayer;  
Or, any whither else, those works to do,  
Which he by Conscience is obliged to:  
No, though the Devil in the passage lay,  
Or strowed most ●earfull dangers in the way.  
For, if in such a case, our death we t●ke,  
Our death, shall for our best advantage ●ake.  
Yet, let none think I this opinion carry,  
That every Church, will be a Sanctuary,  
To all ●hat come For, sure, if any dare  
Without Devotion▪ in Gods house appear,  
To them, that pl●ce, more peril threatens, then,  
A chamber thronged with infected men.  
Some fainted in the Church, as others did  
Within their houses (where themselves they hid)  
Yet not so o●ten. For▪ though some did please  
To blame the Church for spreading this disease,  
No places were more harmless. None did we  
Beh●ld more healthy, or to sc●pe more free  
From this Infection, than those persons, whom  
We saw most often, to Gods worship come.  
Nor were there any houses more infected  
Than theirs, who most th● hous● of God neglected.  
I speak not this by rumour: For, even thither  
Resorted I, where thronged were together  
The greatest multitudes: And day by day  
I sat▪ where all the crowd I could survey.  
Yet, I nor man, nor child, nor woman saw,  
To finke, look pal●, or from their place withdraw▪  
And, doubtless, if such faintings there had been,  
As many prated of; I some had seen.  
Which, since I did not see, I wish ag●ine,  
None would at such a time, God's house refrain,  
Except in Congregations not their own,  
And w●ere in●ection feared is, or known:  
Or in their own Assembly, where disorder  
Committed wilfully, the Pest may further.  
Or, when their body's weak●ne●, or the Air  
Their safety's may ●ome other wa●es impair.  
Excepting to (●n ●imes of Visitation,  
When they a●e marked with marks of Separation,  
As Rising, Bl●●es, or So●es. O, newly f●om  
The ●●mpany of such like person's, come.  
Or, whensoe●er they or do●, or may  
Suppose themselves Infectious any way.  
These (as t●e ●epers did, by Mose Law)  
From public Congregations should withdraw,  
For, sure, if any such themselves intrude  
To mix among a healthy Multitude,  
(Though p●ayers or devotions they pretend,  
Or whatsoever o●her pious end)  
Their foolish practice is unwarrantable;  
Yea, their condition so uncharitable,  
That I abhor it: and bel●eve that for  
So doing, God their prayers doth abhor●e:  
And, here, (although it may impertinent  
By some be thought) I canno● choose but vent,  
How I dislike, ou● so much liked fashion  
Of burial, where the public Congregation  
Are bound to meet: And then▪ especially,  
When of infectious griefs great number● dye.  
I know both Customs, and Opinion, have  
So rooted thi●, that I my breath may save  
In reprehending it. Yet, when I must  
Be tak●n hence, and turn again to dust,  
Let nought but Earth and Heaven my carcase cover,  
And neither Church nor Chapel roof● me over;  
Nor any other Buildings, saving those  
That only serve, such relics to enclose.  
For, though I do ingenuously confess,  
W● should to show our Christian hopefulness  
Of rising from the dead, lodge decently  
Their flesh, who in Christ's Faith profess to dye:  
And, that Churchyards, or plots distinguished from  
The vulgar use, do best of all become  
That purpose. Yet, I know the common guise  
Of bur'ing in the Church, did first arise  
From ancient Superstition; and to gain  
Some outward profit, to the priestly treine.  
For, many simple men were made conceive  
That if (when they were d●ad) they might have leave  
To rest within those plots of hallowed ground,  
Which either Church or Chapel did surround▪  
No wicked Spirit should permittance have,  
To trouble or abuse them, in the grave:  
Whereas (which yet old fools believe they do●)  
They might else rise, and walk at midnight too  
About their streets, and houses, or cross ways;  
Till some Massmonger them at quiet lays:  
And then it was supposed, how much the nigher  
They lay unto their Altar, or their Choïre,  
By so much more the safer they should rest;  
Which ●●ought no petty sums to Dagons' chest:  
Thence was it, that our Churches, first of all,  
Were glazed with Scutcheons like a Herald's hall;  
And that this age in them depainted sees  
So many vain and lying Pedigrees.  
Thence comes it th●t we now adays behold  
Some Chancels filled up with rotten, old,  
And foolish monuments. From hence we see  
So many puppet Images to be  
On every wall within our Oratories:  
So many Epitaphs, and lying stories,  
Of men deceased▪ and, thence the guise was gotten,  
To let so many Banners dropping rotten  
Deform our pillars; and withdraw our ●yes  
From picus objects to those vanities.  
If any man desirous be to lie  
Within a Monument, when he shall dye:  
Let ●v'ry noble Family erect  
Without their Cities some fair Architect,  
Within the compass of whose roofed wall  
There may be founded some good Hospital  
Or buildings for the lawful recreation  
O● youth, and for the honour of the Nation.  
And of that Name or kin, w●en any dies,  
There lay their bones; or to their memories  
Erect there Tables. And, let them tha● had  
Such minds, and fortunes, to the Structure ad●e.  
Yea thither (if they please) let them translate  
Their Ancestors. But, I have spoke too late,  
Those time●●re past in which our noble ones  
Were able to ●rect such piles of stones  
As might be eminent. Our kingly race  
Had by the s●ven●h H●n●y such a place  
Erected for them, so magnificent,  
That to this Land it is an ornament.  
●et them th●t cannot reach the cost of these,  
Raise Cawsies, Bridge●, and make Docks, and Keys  
For public use: which with as little cost  
As now upon th●ir peddling Tomb, is lost,  
Should make them live far longer in their fames;  
For▪ we would ●hose entitle by their Names.  
All they that love their Country, ●ow they know  
Which way they may their money best b●stow,  
(●o memorise their Friends, with profiting  
The public) will consider of this thing  
And build them Tombs where we may praise the work▪  
Not in a Church obscure, unseen to lurk,  
Where few shall view them; and where most who shall  
Be●old them, take no heed of them at all.  
If some good Patriot woul● begin the fashion,  
It ●ig●● allu●e, perhaps, to imitation.  
And if it were not gr●edinesse of gain  
Am●ng Church-Officers, whi●h did maintain  
Such Custom●s w● should somewhat more forbear  
To lay so ●any sti●king bodies there  
Where God we s●●ke (and him should seek to find,  
With ●urity of body, and of m●nde)  
Indeed our s●●ne, alone pollutes; and y●t  
An outward decency is also fit.  
Was't well, that in the Church (where throngs and beat  
Did mak● us in the crowd to pant and sweat)  
Ev●n in the midst of our Devotions too,  
Men should, as oft it pleased t●em to do,  
Thrust in (where we could hard●y stand in e●se)  
With faure or five strong sm●lling Carcases?  
Was'● fit, so many Gr●ves, at such a season  
Should g●●e and brea●h upon us? was it reason▪  
That heaps of rubbish, C●ffin-boards, ●nd stones▪  
Late bu●y'● bodies, and halfe● 〈◊〉 bones,  
God's Temple should pollute? a●d make it far  
More loath some, than most Charnell●ouses ●ouses are?  
Was't fitting that to gain their griping fees,  
They should endanger multitudes to lose  
Their lives, or healths? or, that they should fulfil  
A foolish motion in a dead man's will,  
By wronging o● the living? God ●orbid  
It should ●e reason; and yet, thus they did.  
Thus did they? yea, far worse: f●r should I tell  
At what high rates, some Churchmen, here, did sell  
Their burying grounds: What feet they did exact:  
H●w Readers, Clerks, and Sextons did compact,  
To rack the de●d: to what a goodly sum  
Their large Church-duties (in some cases) come:  
What must ●e p●id for Bearers, though m●n have  
Their friends to help convey them to the grave:  
What for the B●lls, though not a Bell b● rung:  
What, for their mourning clothes, though none be hung  
V●on them but their own: what pay did pass  
For F●n●rall S●rmons, where no Sermon was:  
And, what was oft extorted (without shame)  
To give him leave ●o preach, who f●e●ly came:  
If her● (I say) I should discover ●hat  
I might, of t●ese things mentioned, rel●●e,  
Those men who die, that charges they may s●ve,  
Would flare they might be legger●d in the Grave:  
For, more ●o take th●● lodging ha●●●eene spent,  
Then would h●ve bought a pretty tenement.  
Thus, a● one matter drew another on,  
My Muse hath diverse things discoursed upon  
To many sund●y purposes: but, what  
I chiefly in this Canto aimed at  
Was, to preserve in mind an awful sense  
Of what we suffered in this Pestilence:  
What we deserved; and how variously,  
God's justice, this one Corrosive d●d apply,  
To eat out all Corruptions, which be spotted  
Our souls, and h●d ere this our bodies rotten.  
I might as well have memorised here,  
How diversely God's Merci●s did appear,  
Amid his judgements: ●ow he comforted,  
When outward com●o●t failed: how he said,  
When oil and meal w●re wasted: how he gave  
Their lives to them, whose feet were in the grave.  
What Patience▪ what high Fortitude he granted,  
And, how he still supplied what we wanted.  
I might commemorate, a world of Grace  
Bestowed in this affliction, on this place,  
Both common, and in private. Many a vow  
(Of theirs, who will, I fear, forget it now)  
Was daily heard. Ten thousand suits were daigned;  
Repri●ves, for souls condemned were obtained▪  
Frie●ds prayed for friends; the parents for the lives  
Of their dear children▪ Husbands for their wives;  
Wives for their husbands begged with tears & passion,  
And, God with pity heard their lamentation.  
In friends, in servants, in the temporal wealth,  
In life, in death, in sicknesses, and health,  
God manifested Mercy. Some did find  
A Friend, to whom till then, none had been kind.  
Some, had their servants bettered, for them, there,  
By God's correction. Some, left wealthy were  
By dying kindred, who the day before  
Were like to beg their bread from door to door,  
Some, by their timely deaths were taken from  
Such present pains, or from such woes to come,  
That they are happy. Unto some, from heaven,  
The blessing of a longer life was given,  
That they might call ●o mind their youthful times  
Repent omissions, and committed crimes;  
Amend their courses, and be warisome  
That they displeased not God, in ●imes to come.  
Again, some others by their sicknesses,  
And by the fears they had in this Disease,  
Grew awful of God's judgements; and within  
Their hearts, good motions were, where none had been▪  
Even in their hearts who feared nor God nor Devil,  
Nor guilt of sin, nor punishment for ●vill.  
And, some had health continued, that they might  
Gods praise extol, and in his love delight.  
Should I declare, in what unusual wise  
God oped here their souls dim-sighted eye●,  
Who blinded were before; how nig● they reached  
To highest Mysteries: what things they preached  
Even to their neighbours, and their family,  
Before their souls did from their bodies fly;  
Or, should I tell, but what young Children here  
Did speak, to take from e●der folk their fear  
O● Sicknesses and Death; what they expressed  
O● heavenly bliss, and of this world's unrest;  
What faith they had; what strange illuminations;  
What strong assurances of their salvations;  
And with what proper terms, and boldness they  
Beyond their years, such things did open lay,  
It would amaze our naturalists, and raise  
A goodly Trophy to our M●kers praise.  
But, this for me were too▪ too large a task,  
And many years and volumes it would ask,  
Should I in these particulars record  
The never ending mercies of the Lord.  
For, he that would his meanest act recite,  
Attempts ●o measure what is infinite.  
That story therefore, in particular  
To med●le with I purpose to defer  
Till in the Kingdom of eternity  
My soul in honour of his Majesty  
Shall Halelu●ah●ing ●ing; and overlook  
With hallowed eyes, that great eternal Book,  
Which in a moment to my view shall bring  
Each passed, present, and each future thing,  
And there my soul shall read, and see revealed  
What is not by the LAMB, as yet, un●ealed.  
Mean while I'll cry Hosannah, and for all  
His love to me, and mercies general,  
His three times holy, and thrice blessed Name  
I p●aise, and vow for aye to praise the same.   

The fifth Canto.  

The Author justifies again  
His Method, and his low●y Strain.  
Next, having formerly made known  
The common Fears, he tells his own.  
Shows with what thoughts he was diseased,  
When first the Plague his lodging seized:  
Of what God's justice him accused;  
Upon what Doubts, or Hopes, he mused;  
On what, and how, he did resolve;  
And who from Death, did him absolve.  
The Plagues increase, he than expresseth:  
The Mercies of the LORD confesseth:  
Emplores that he himself may never  
Forget them, but, be thankful ever:  
Then, mounting Contemplation's wings,  
Ascends to high and useful things.  
From thence his Muse is called down▪  
To make Great Britain's errors known:  
Wherein, he doth confess a sailing;  
And (his infirmities bewailing)  
Is fitted and resolved anew,  
His purposed Message to pursue:  
And, having fi●st anticipated,  
His Arrant is, in pa●t, related.   
PErhaps, the nicer Critics of these times,  
When they sh●ll slightly view my lowly Rhymes,  
(Not to an end, these Poems fully reading,  
Nor their Occasion, nor my Aims, well h●eding)  
May tax my Muse that she at random flies;  
For want of Method, makes Tautelogies;  
And cometh off, and on, in such a fashion,  
That▪ oft she ●a●les their curious expectation.  
It is enough to me, that I do know  
What they commend, and what they disallow.  
And let it be enough to them, that I  
Am pleased to make such faults for them to spy.  
For I intent the Method which I use▪  
And, if they do not like it, they may c●use.  
They who in their Composures, keep the fashion  
Of elder times, and write by imitation;  
Whole acquaint Inventions must be trimmed and tricked,  
With curious dress, from old Authers picked;  
And whose main works, are little ●l●e, but either  
Old scattered Pieces, finely glued together;  
Or, some concealed Structures of the Brain,  
Found our (where long obscured they have lain)  
And new attired: These, must (and well they may)  
Their Poesies in formal garbs array,  
Their natural defects by Art to hide;  
And, make their old new-straines the Test abide.  
These, do not much amiss, if they assume  
Some ●stridge feathers, or the Peacock's plume  
To strut withal: nor had I greatly h●eded  
That course of theirs, if they had not proceeded  
To censure mine. My Muse no wh●t envies  
That they from all their heathenish Poesy's  
Have skummed the Cream & to themselves (for that)  
The s●ile of Prince of Poets a●●ogate.  
For, Plautus, Horace, Perseus, ●uvenal,  
Yea Greece and Rome's best Muses, we may call  
Their Tributaries; since from them c●me in  
Those Treasures which their princely Titles win.  
Sometime, as well as they I play the Bee:  
But, like the Silkworm, it best pleaseth me  
To spin out mine own Bowels, and prepare them  
For those, who think it not a shame to wear them.  
My Matter, with my Method, is mine own;  
And I do pluck my Flowers as they are blown.  
A Maiden when she walks abroad to gather  
Some herbs to strew the dwellings of her Father,  
(Or fragrant flowers to deck her wedding Bower,  
Or make a nosegay for her Paramour)  
She comes into the Garden, and first seizeth  
The Flowers which first she sees, or what she pl●aseth;  
Then runs to those whom use or memory,  
Presenteth to her thought, or to her eye:  
As toward them she pasteth, she doth find  
Some others, which were wholly out of mind●,  
Even till that very moment: while she makes  
Her prize of those, she notice likewise takes  
Of Herbs unknown before, that lurking lay  
Among the pleasant Plants within her way:  
She crops off these, of those she taketh none,  
Makes use of some, and le's as good alone;  
Here plucks the Cowslips, Roses of the prime,  
There, Lavender, sweet Marjoram, and Thine,  
Yon● Iuly●low'rs, or the Damask Rose,  
Or sweet-breathed Violet, that hidden grows▪  
Then some again forenamed (if need she thinks)  
Than Daisies, and then Marigolds, and Pinks:  
Then Herbs anew, than Flowers afresh doth pull,  
Of every fort, until her lap is full.  
And otherwhile, before that work be done,  
To kill a Caterpillar she doth run,  
Or catch a Butterfly; which varies from  
That purpose whereabout she first did come.  
So, from the Muse's Gardens, when I mean  
Those flow'r● of useful Po●sie to glean,  
which being well united may content  
My Christian Friends; or with a pleasing sent  
Perfume God's house, or beautify, or cheer  
My soul, which else would rude, and sad appear▪  
When this I mean; I paint out every Tho●ght,  
As to my heart I feel it to be brought:  
I t●eat of things, as cause conduces to them,  
And as occasions, unto me, do show them.  
Sometimes, I from the matter seem to go,  
For purposes, which none but I may know  
Sometime, an useful Flower I may forget;  
Anon, into my Nosegay, I do set  
Some other twice; because, perchance, the place  
Affords it better use, or better g●ace.  
A● one conceit I seriously pursue,  
That, brings perhaps another to my view,  
And that another; and that, many a one,  
Which if in M●thods Allies I had gone,  
Ha●, peradventure, ●lse remained unseen;  
And, in my Gar●and might have miss been.  
ere I my pen assume, I feel the motions  
Of doing somewhat, and have general notions  
O● what I purpose: But, Mogul doth know  
As well as I, what path my Mus● will go.  
What, in particular, I shall express,  
I know not (as I hope for happiness)  
And though my matter, when I first begin,  
Will hardly fill one p●ge; yet being in,  
Methinks, if neither faintness, friends▪ nor night,  
Disturbed me, for ever I could wri●e.  
Upon an instant I oft feel my breast  
With infinite variety possessed;  
And such a troup of things together throngs,  
Within my brain; that, had ● twenty tongues  
I should (whilst I assai● to utter it)  
Twice more, than I could mention, quite forget.  
A hundred Masings, which I mean to say,  
Before I can express them, slip away;  
Which to recall, although I much endever,  
Oft pass out of my memory, for ever;  
And carry forth (even to the wo●lds ●arre end)  
Some other thoughts, which did on them depend.  
Whilst I my pen am dipping down in ink,  
That's lost which next to tell you I did think;  
And, somewhat instantly doth follow on,  
Which till that present, I ne'er thought upon.  
This, fo●ceth me those Methods to forgo,  
Which others in their Poems fancy so.  
This makes me ●i●th to my Conceptions give,  
As fast as they the●r Being's do receive.  
Left whilst I for the common Midwife●ary ●ary,  
The fl●tting issue of my brain miscarry.  
And, howsoe'er they please to censure me,  
Who but Stepfathers to their Poems be;  
This, is that way of uttrance that e●ch Muse  
Makes practice of, whom Nature●o●h ●o●h infu●e:  
And, warrant from th●ir Natural strai●es do●h fet▪  
Whom Artifi●iall Poets counterfeit.  
These a●e true Raptures; ●h●irs are imitations,  
Or, rather, of old Rap●u●es▪ new Translations.  
Thi● Method long ago, old Moses used,  
When God ●is Hymn of ●raise, to h●m infused.  
Thus, Solomon hi● Song of Songs, compassed:  
And, when thy sin●er, ●s●●el, was disposed  
To praise the Lord or sp●a●e ●nto his God,  
O● ven● his passiens in a mou●●●u●l Ode,  
In thi● contemned wi●e, from him did flow,  
Those heavenly Raptur●s which we honour so.  
As God's good Spirit carried him along,  
So varied he, the m●tter of ea●h Song.  
Now prays; strait praiseth; instantly l●menteth;  
Then half d●spaires; is by and by contented;  
The pe●son of the changeth; oft ●epeate●h  
One sentence; and one su●t oft iter●teth.  
Which manner of expression, s●emes to some  
So methodlesse, and so to wander from  
A certainty, in what he did intend,  
That they his well-knit Raptures discommend,  
As broken and di● jointed; when, indeed,  
From ignorance (or from their little heed  
To such exp●essions, and such mysteries)  
Their causeless disesteem, did first a●ise.  
Yea, Ignorance, not knowing what they meant,  
When such an uncouth p●th the Muse's w●nt;  
Was wont (long since) to call our soule-rapt strains,  
Poetic Furíes: And that Name remains.  
Yet, this old tracked I follow; this I use;  
And, this no trueborn Poe●▪ can refuse.  
My scope, I ever keep, in all my Lays;  
Which is, to please, and profit, to God's praise:  
But, in one path, or in one pace to ride,  
It is not fi● a P●●● should be tied.  
Sometime he must be grave; lest else, the wi●e  
The m●tter, or the m●●ner, may despise.  
Sometime he must endeavour to be plain,  
Lest all that he delivers be in vain:  
Another wh●le, he Parables must use,  
And ●iddl●s, lest some should the truth abuse,  
And th●y that are the Nymrod's of the times  
Grow mad, in slead of leaving oft their crimes.  
Sometime he must be pleasing, le●t he may  
Drive all his froward Re●ders quite away.  
Sometimes he must have bu●er stroine●, to keep  
T●e sullen Reader f●om a drowrie sleep;  
And whip those wantoness, from an evil course,  
That, without warning, would be dai●y worse.  
Sometimes again, he must be somewhat merry,  
Lest Fools, of good instruction, should be weary.  
Yea, he to all men all things should become,  
That he, of many, might advantage some.  
This, m●kes me chang● the Person, and the Style,  
And vary from the matter, other while.  
Thi●, makes me mixed small things, and great together;  
Here, I am grave; there, play I with a feather.  
One page, doth make some Reader half believe,  
That I am angry: In the next, I give  
The Child an Apple. In one leaf●, I ch●de;  
I somewhat in another do provide,  
To help excuse those frailties I reproved:  
And those excuses, are in place removed,  
From such reproofs; left following on too nigh,  
Th● Che●k, might without heed, be p●ssed by.  
This course b●c●me● the Muses. This doth save  
Our ●ines from just reproof, when Tyrants rave  
At our free Numbers: and when Fools condemn  
Our Straine●, because they understand not them.  
Such Po●fie is right: and, therefore▪ they  
Who study matter, ●nd what words to say,  
Do falsely arrogate to be inspired;  
Since, when they boast their souls are this way fired,  
It is but Wine, or Passion ma●es them rave:  
And thence the Muses their disgraces have.  
Most times, when I compose, I watch, and fast.  
I cannot find my Spirits, when I taste  
Of meats and drinks; nor can I write a line,  
Sometime, should I but take one draught of wine.  
Men say, it makes a Poet, and doth warm  
His brain, and him with strong invention arm.  
No marvel then, that most do reckon me  
For none, who of this Age the Poets be;  
And▪ that so enviously at me they strike,  
For they and I are not inspired alike.  
In such like works as these, if I should fill  
My head, my Muse would have an empty qu●ll;  
And▪ that w●ich to express she then presumes,  
Would smothered be, with vapourings and fumes.  
But, when those write; themselves they first make merry  
With Claret, with Canary, or with Sherry.  
And these are sure the Deities which make  
A sensual ear, of them, best liking take.  
When such as they reprove a sinful State,  
Or would those great enormities relate,  
Wherein their times offend; they may be brought  
To question for it; and it may be thought  
Their sple●ne, revenge, or envy, did incite  
Their brains to hammer, what their pens did write,  
Because they did premeditate, and strain  
Their faculties, their projects to attain.  
But, when a man one Subject purposing,  
Sits down to write it, and another thing  
(Unthought upon before) qu●te thrusteth out  
That matter which at fi●st he went about:  
When he remembers, that nor spite, nor spleen,  
No● envy, hath his primus motor been:  
When he perceives, nor dangers, nor disgrace  
Can fright him, when such Raptures are in place:  
When he doth find, that with much ease & pleasure  
He utters what exceeds the common measure  
Of his own Gifts: ●nd that (although his Rhymes  
Are none of those strong lines that catch the times)  
They from the V●rtuous, good respect can draw,  
And keep the proudest vitious-men in awe:  
What should he think, but that the power of God  
Ins●ireth him, to show his will abroad?  
What nee● he fear, but, most undantedly,  
Make use of his inspired Faculty?  
No arrogance it were, if he, or I,  
Should say that God our pe●s had spoken by,  
To those we live among, since, we might say,  
He speaks by all his creatures, every ●ay:  
Yea, since in elder times it came to pass●,  
That he declared his pleasure by an ●sse.  
What should we do but speak, when we are willed?  
What can we do but speak when we are filled?  
While wicked men we do● remain among,  
With David, w● a while may curb the tongue;  
But, burn it will within us, ti●l we speak,  
And forth, at last, some thundering voice will break▪  
And what should then our hearers do, but learn  
Their errors, by our Poems, to discern?  
Why should they rail at u●, who neither fear  
Then fury, nor for all their threatenings care?  
Why do they, childishly, our Lines condemn,  
That strike but at their follies, not at them?  
Why, so unjustly still, are we pursued,  
Who show them ho●v their falls may be eschewed?  
And why do they by seeking of our shame,  
Increase our glor●es, and themselves defame?  
Whence comes all this, but from that sottishness  
Which doth most people of this age possess?  
But, let these questions pass; lest by degrees,  
They draw us on, until our ma●ke we lose.  
Thus far my Muse hath wilfully digressed,  
And of he● purpose, now she vents the ●est.  
When diverse weeks together ● had wasted  
In viewing th●se afflictions others tasted;  
When day by day, ● long had walked abroad,  
Beholding how the scourging hand of God,  
Afflicted other men, and how, each morning  
My going out, and ●ow my b●ck returning,  
Was every night in safety; I be●an  
God's care and my unworthiness to scan.  
And, 'twas, me thought, a favour, w●ich required  
To be both much acknowledged, and ●dmi●ed;  
That (when so many houses, ●v'ry day,  
Were visited) t●e place wherein I lay  
Stood free so long; considering we were many,  
And, then, resorted to, as much as any.  
But, th●re was somewhat needful to be known,  
Which no man's grief could 〈◊〉 me but mine own.  
And, that I might thereof informed be,  
God sent at last his judgements home to me.  
Y●a, peradventure, in my soul he saw  
Some ●ailings of my former filial awe;  
Some thanklessness; some inward pride of heart;  
Or overweening of mine own desert,  
Arising from the merciful protection  
W●ic● he vouchsafed me from this In●●ction;  
And therefore sent as my Remembrancer,  
His dreadful, and his bloody Messenger  
To t●ke his lodging, where my lodgings were;  
And put his rage in execution there.  
For, in upon us, that Contagion broke,  
Five souls out of our Gate, it quickly taken,  
And left ●nother wounded; that I might  
Conceive my danger, and God's love, a●ight.  
It fell about the time in which their sum  
Who weekly died, to the full was come:  
Then, when infection to such height was grown,  
That many dropped on a sudden down  
In every street: yea, when some fools did tell  
The lying Fables of the Falling-B●ll  
At Westminster; and how that then did fly  
No Bird through London's air which did not dye.  
Even than it was. And, though some few did please,  
By such like tales, and strange Hyperboles,  
To overstraine the stories of our sorrow:  
They did but needlessly their fictions borrow  
To set it forth. Nay, their false rumours made  
Our woes appear less great, than those we had.  
Till now, I made th● smart o● othe●s known:  
The Griefs I next will tell you, are mine own.  
At fi●st, I stood as one who f●om a Tower▪  
Beholding how the sword doth such ●evo●●e  
(Who in the streets beneath him fight be)  
Accounts himself from danger to be free.  
But, at the last, I fared, as it fares  
With such, whose Foes have made, at unawares,  
A breach upon their Bulwark; and I stood  
No mean assaults, to make my standing stood.  
For, both within me, and without me, too,  
I had enough, and full enough to do.  
No sooner to my Chamber was I gone,  
But, I was followed strait, and set upon  
By strong Assailants, who did much intrude,  
And much disease me, by their multitude.  
My Reason, who to Faith did lately stoop,  
Revolted, and brought on a mighty troup  
Of traitorous Arguments, whereby she thought,  
On this my disadvantage, to have wrought.  
Temptations, sly- Suggestions, Fear, and Doubt,  
Did undermine, and close me, round about.  
My Conscience did begin to be afraid  
My Faith had been a false one; who betrayed  
My Soul to Death: and (whether then it were  
The power of strong Infection, or else Fear,  
Occasioned by those combatings within,  
Or both together) I did then begin  
To find my body weakened more and more,  
And felt those pangs, till than unfelt before.  
Even many days together, so it fared:  
And sure, if Superstition could have scared  
My better settled heart, there happened that,  
Which I had feared, and somewhat startled at:  
And (though I never outwardly complained  
To any one, of that which I sustained)  
That week, in which our house was visited,  
And made complete the number of her dead;  
I had a sleepless night; in which with heat  
Oppressed, I purged out (in stead of swear)  
Round-rud●y-spots (and, that, no little store)  
Which on my breast, and shoulders, long I wore.  
Perhaps, it was the Pestilence, which then  
So ma●ked me▪ and I, as other men,  
By her had been devoured, had I not  
Through God's great mercy, my free pardon got.  
Which, how, and on what terms, the same I gained,  
I●e now declare. For, though they seem but feigned▪  
Or melancholy thoughts, which here I tell;  
Yet, sure, to smother them, I did not well.  
For, some, perhaps will think (as well as I)  
That none should slightly pass such muse by:  
And some (who at first viewing will surmise,  
That in these things I merely poetize)  
Will find, perchance, in times that shall ensue,  
Experimental proof, that all is true;  
Should Darkness, where her visage, Danger, shows,  
(●t such a disadvantage) them enclose.  
When all alone I lay, and apprehended,  
How many mischiefs my poo●e soul attended;  
I plainly saw (●hough not with carnal eyes)  
God's dreadful Angel, ready to su●prise  
My trembling soul; and every hideous fear,  
Which can to any natural man appear,  
(In such a case, to aggravate his terror)  
Approached, with every circumstance of horror.  
I ●aw the Muster of each passed evil,  
And all my youthful follies, by the Devil  
Brought in against me, marshaled▪ and prepared,  
To fight the battle which I long had feared.  
And such a multitude of them surrounded  
My Conscience, that I was almost confounded.  
A thousand sins appeared which were forgot,  
And which I till that moment minded not,  
Since first committed; and more ugly far  
They seemed, then when they perpetrated were.  
Yea many things whereof I bragged, and thought  
That I, in doing them, some good h●d wrought,  
Declared themselves against me; and I found  
That they did give my soul the deepest wound.  
When these had quite enclosed me, I saw  
The Tables, and the Volumes of the Law▪  
To me laid open: and I was, me thought,  
Before the presence of God's justice brought,  
Who from her eye did frowns upon me dart,  
And se●med, thus to speak unto my heart.  
(Oh! Readers mark it well; fo● to this Drome,  
O● to a worse than this, you all must come.  
Suppose thou not, vain man, thou dost possess  
This lif● till now, for thine own righteousness,  
Or that thou merit●st mo●e grace to have  
Then they who now are sent to fill the Grave:  
Lo, here, thy Foe hath brought of thy offences  
An Army, and so many evidences  
Of thy Corruption; that, plead what thou wilt  
Of merit in thy ●elfe, th●y prove a guilt  
So heinous, that thy soul thou canst not free:  
Yet other sinful thoughts of thine I see.  
I search thy heart, and ●● discover there  
Deceits, which cannot to thyself appear▪  
I know thy many secret imperfections,  
I know thy passions, and t●y vain affections;  
And, that performances thou hast not made  
According to those favours thou hast b●d.  
Vainglory, profit, or some carnal end,  
Thy best endeavour always did attend;  
And, as distrusting, God would thee beguile,  
An arm of fl●sh thou seekest otherwhile:  
Not as the second, but the chiefest Cause:  
Which from the glory of thy God withdraws.  
Mine eye doth see what arrogance and pride  
Thou dost among thy fairest virtues hide;  
And, what impieties, thou shouldst have done,  
Had I not stopped the course thou though●st to run.  
Oft-times, when others Vices, thou hast shown,  
Thou hast forgotten to repent thine own.  
And, many times, thy ta●t reproofs have been  
The fruits, not of thy Virtue, but of Spleen.  
Thy wanton Lust's (b●t that I did restrain  
Their f●ry, when thou wouldst have slacked the Rhine)  
Had horn thee headlon to those deeds ●f shame,  
With which thy evil willers blur thy Name.  
Shouldst thou have done the best that thou wert able,  
Thy services had been unprofitable:  
But, thou scarce half thy Talon hast employed;  
And, that small good thou didst, is nigh destroyed,  
By giving some occasion, needlessly,  
Of questioning thy true sincerity.  
God of● hath hid thy frailties, and thy sin,  
Which being known, would thy disgrace have been.  
The show of Wit and Virtue, thou hast had,  
He, to the world more eminent hath made,  
Then theirs, who wiser, and much better are,  
Though outward helps, and fortunes, wanting were▪  
And, though thy knowledge, and thy former Lays,  
Among your formal Wizzards got no praise,  
Yet what they counted foolishness, became  
A greater honour to thy slighted Name,  
Then they obtained: And, that Grace (I see)  
Begot more pride, than thankfulness in thee:  
And, I was fain, to let some scandals fly,  
To teach unto thee, more humility.  
In all thy wants, thou still hast been relieved;  
From heaven thou comfort hadst, when thou w●rt grieved▪  
When Princes threatened, thou wert fearless made;  
In all thy dangers, thou a Guard hast had;  
In closest prison, thou best freedom gainedst;  
In great contempts, thou most esteem obtainedst;  
When, most thy fo●s did labour to undo thee,  
They brought most honour, and most profit to thee.  
Yea, still when thy destruction was expected,  
Then, God, thy peace beyond thy hope, effected.  
And, in the stead of praising him for this,  
Thou robdst him of much honour that was his.  
Tho● w●rt content, to hear the Vulgar say,  
Thy Spirit, and thine Innocence made way  
To ●●y escape. Whereas, thy ●ons●ience kn●w  
Thou wert a ●oward, till God ●id ●n●ue  
Thy heart with Fortitude, and f●●ely gave thee  
That innocency which from harm d●d save thee.  
When God thy Na●e divulged for some good end,  
(Which his w●se Providence a●d soreintend)  
Thou took'st the glory of it for thi●●●wne,  
And, justly, therefore thy so being known,  
Hath been a m●●n●s whereby t●y Fo●● h●ve sent  
Their scandal f●r●her, than they else ha● went.  
As soon● as, God from trouble ●id release thee,  
(O●, but w●th ●●pes of outward things possess thee)  
Some fruitless thoughts d●d quit● thy heart estrange,  
And after such vain Project●ake ●ake thee range,  
That he was o●t compelled to put thee from  
Those blessings, which 〈◊〉 to thy lips were come;  
Lest, being then unseas'na●ly received,  
Thou mightst of better things have been ●ere●●ved▪  
F●w men so nigh great Hopes attained ●ver▪  
With such small fortunes and without endeavour,  
As thou hast done▪ and f●we● ha●e been crossed▪  
That way (which thou h●s● been●) in what was lost;  
That see and kn●w thou mightst, such loss and gain,  
He sent; and, that he neither sent in vain.  
Yea, that those evils which thou hadst in thought,  
Should scape the being into action brought,  
Ill ●ong●es w●●e stirred to prevent the f●ct,  
By blazing what was never yet in act:  
Bu●, might have been, perhaps▪ had not that erred  
Thy heart▪ whereby t●y foes would thee h●ve harmed.  
Thou to refresh thy soul h●st pleasures had,  
And tho● by their abuse, hast f●●bl●r ma●e  
H●r useful Faculties. Thou hast ●nj●yed  
Youth, strength, an● health; and▪ them hast misemployed.  
Thy God hath made thee gracious in their eyes,  
Whose good esteem, thy soul doth highly prize;  
And (of ill purpose though Il● not condem●e  
Thy love, or meaning, to thyself or them)  
Thou hast full often stole their hearts away,  
Even from themselves; and made thine own a prey  
To many passions▪ which did sometimes bring  
Upon your s●lves, a mutual torturing:  
Because you did not in your loves propose  
Those ends, for which, Affection, God bestows.  
But, spent your hours (that should have been employed  
To learn and teach how you should have enjoyed  
God's love) that flame, to kindle, in each other▪  
Wherein, you might have perished together.  
Thou aggravated hast thy pardoned crimes,  
And, iterated them, a thousand times.  
Even yet, thou dost renew them every day;  
And when for Mercy thou dost come to pray,  
Thou meritest confusion, through that folly,  
Which makes thy prayers to become unholy.  
Nay, at this time, and in this very place,  
Where God in judgement stands before thy face,  
Thou oft forgettest the danger thou art in;  
Forgettest Gods mercy, and dost hourly sin.  
Thou dost neglect thy time, and trifle out  
Those days, that should have been employed about  
The service of th● Maker. Thou dost give  
Thyself that liberty, as if to live  
Or dye, were at thy choice▪ and that at pleasure,  
Thou mightst pursue his work; and at thy leisure.  
Thy Talon thou mis-spendst; and here, as though  
To look upon God's judgements were enough  
For thee to do; thou dost with negligence  
Perform thy vows; which add to thy offence.  
And lo, for these thy faults, and many more;  
Whereof thy Conscience thee doth guilty know,  
My spotted-Hound hath seized thee: from whom,  
That thou with life shouldst ●eene have to come,  
What canst thou say▪ I could not make reply;  
For, Fear, and Gild, and that dread Majesty  
Which I had apprehended, took away  
My speech; and not a word had I to say.  
But Mer●y who came arm in arm along  
With Iusti●e, and about her always hung;  
Did look, me thought, upon me with an eye  
So truly pitiful, that instantly  
My heart was cheered, and (Mercy prompting her)  
Such words, or thoughts as these she did p●efer.  
'tis true most awful justice, that my sin  
Hath greater than thine accusations been▪  
The most refined actions of my soul,  
Are in thy presence, horrible and foul.  
And if thou take account of what is done,  
I cannot of ten thousand answer one.  
As soon as I am cl●●sed from my sin,  
To sail myself anew▪ I do begin.  
I to my vomit, like a Dog, retire,  
And like a Sow, to wallow in t●e mire.  
I have within my soul, distempers, passions;  
And hourly am besieged with strong temptations.  
My Flesh is weak, except it be to sin;  
My spirit faints, when I the goal should win.  
My Will●ff●cteth ●ff●cteth most, what is most vain;  
My Memory doth ●vill best retain.  
That little good ● would, I cannot do;  
Those evils I detest, I fall into.  
The vapours whi●h from earthly things arise,  
Too often veil heavens glories f●om min● eyes.  
And I, who can sometimes by contemplation,  
Advance my soul above the common station,  
(The world contemning) do● sometimes again  
Lie grovelling on the ground with other men:  
My Faith doth fail; my mounting wings are clipped;  
Of all my braveries I quite ●●n stripped▪  
My hopes are hid; my sins do me defile;  
And in my own esteem, ●y soul is vile.  
I will acknowledge all my aherrations,  
According to their utmost a gravations;  
And here confess, that I deserve therefore  
The loss of Mercies love for evermore;  
Which were a greater plague, then to abide  
All torments here, and all hell plagues beside.  
But, I repent my sin: lo, I abhor it,  
And, with my heart, am truly sorry for it.  
I fear thine anger, (but, to fear the love  
Of Mercy could be lost, would in me prove  
A greater horror) and no slavish dread,  
But loving fear, this grief in me hath bred.  
It pains my soul, that I who have conceived  
Such pleasure in thy favours, and received  
Such to ens of thy love, from day to day,  
Should pass a moment of my time away  
In any va●i●y; or live to be  
One minute's space without a thought of thee.  
But, more I grieve, that I should more transgress  
Then many do, whom thou hast favoured less.  
Although I am a sinner▪ yet I vow,  
I do not in my soul my sins allow;  
But, I d●t●st them, and oft p●ay, and strive,  
That, I accord●n● to thy Law may live.  
(At least I think I do) and hopeful am,  
My love to thee is true, though much to blame.  
In me there how rely rise (against my will)  
Those lusts which I should mortify and kill:  
And as I am enabled, I do smite  
As well the fat, as lean Amalekite.  
But, if I have a sin that is become  
My Agog; or as dear as Absolom,  
I wish a Samuel, or a loab may  
Destroy it ere my soul it shall betray.  
For, if my heart hath not itself deceived,  
It would, wi●h willingness, be quite bereft  
Of what it most affects (yea, sacrifice  
That which is dearer than my hands, or e●es)  
ere cherish, wittingly, within my bre●●,  
A thought, which thy uprightness doth detest.  
Thou knowest, that I take no pleasure in  
That act which I do fear to be a sin:  
Much less if I do know i● so: and, this  
Doth bitt●r make it, when I do amiss.  
Though in my ways my walkings, now and then,  
Appear irregular to other men;  
(And other while may shows of evil make)  
Because from thence offences others take,  
Yet, thought I not, it less offended thee  
To use it, then unused to let it be,  
I would not tread once more in such a path,  
To save my life, and all the joy it hath.  
But, should it cost my life I canno● tell  
If (in some actions) I do ill or well.  
For, many times, when I do se●ke to shun  
A plash, into a whirlpool I do run.  
The Wolf I fly, and lo, a Lion frights me;  
I shun the Lion, and a Viper bites me.  
A scandal follows, if I take my course;  
If I divert it, there 〈◊〉 a worse.  
If I persist in that which I intent,  
It giveth some occasion to offend:  
If I forgo it; my own knowled esay's  
I fin, and scandal give some other ways.  
I find not in my actions, or affections  
That thing that is not full of imperfections.  
I cannot do a good or pious act  
But there is somewhat evil in the fact,  
Or in the manner; and it either ●ends  
To this man's damage, or that man offends,  
Whatever I resolve upon, I find  
It doth not fully satisfy my mind.  
I am so straitened, that I know not whence  
To find the means of shunning an offence;  
And, if dear Mercy, thou assist me not,  
My fairest act will prove my foulest blot.  
The Wo●ld, our Fri●nd●, our Passion, or our Fear,  
Hath so entangled us, at unaware,  
With manifold engagements; and so draws  
And winds us, by degrees, into that Maze  
Of endless Wander; that it leads us to  
That sin, sometimes, wh●ch we abhor to do:  
And, otherwhile so strangely giddifies  
The Reason, and the soul's best Faculties;  
That (as I said before) we do not know  
What in ourselves to b●ke, or disallow.  
Yea, we such turnings and cross ways do find,  
That of●, our Guides (as well as we) ●e blind.  
The Spirit and the Flesh have their delight,  
In things, so divers, and so opposite;  
And, such a Law of sin doth still abide  
With●n our Members; that, we swarve aside  
Do what we can: and, while we help the one,  
To what seems needful, th' ot●●● is undone.  
If by the Spirits motion, I proceed  
To compass what I think my Soul may need,  
My Body wants the while; and I am fain  
To leave my course, that her I may sustain:  
L●ft my engagements, or necessities,  
Might my well meant endeavour scandalise.  
If I but feed my Body, that it may  
Assist my Spirit in some lawful way;  
It strait grows wanton: If I fast, it makes  
My spirit faint in what she undertakes:  
And, if I keep a mean; mean fruits are they,  
(And little worth) which then produce I may.  
If in a Christi●n love some hours I spend  
To be a comfort to some female friend,  
Who needs my counsel: I do cause, ●he while,  
Another with hot jealousies, to boil:  
Nor know I how myself excuse I may  
Unless another's weakness I display.  
Which if I do not, or some lie invent,  
They censure me unkind, or impudent.  
I can nor do, nor speak, nor think that thing;  
But, still, some inconvenience it will ●ring;  
Or, some occasion of anevill, be  
To me, or others; or to them, and me.  
And from the body of this Death, by whom  
But, by my Saviour, can I freed become?  
Oh! therefore, sweet Redeemer, succour lend me,  
And, from these bogs, and s●ares of sin, defend me▪  
Dear God, assist in these perplexities,  
Which from our frail condition do arise.  
S●t strait, I pray thee, Lord, ●he crookedness  
Oferring Nature; and these faults redress.  
So out of frame, is ev●ry thing, in me,  
That, I can hope for cure, from none, but thee.  
To thee I therefore kneel; to thee I pray;  
To thee my soul complaineth; every day:  
Do thou but say, Be whole; or be thou clean;  
And, I shall soon be pure, and sound, again.  
The Will thou gav●st me, to affect thy Will,  
Though it continue not so perfect still,  
A● when thou first bestow'dst the same; accept it,  
Even such as my polluted Vessel kept it.  
For▪ though it wounded be, through many fights  
Continued with my carnal appetites:  
Yet, i● my heart's desire to me be known,  
Thy Pleasure I prefer before min● ow●e.  
If I could choose, I would not guilty be  
Of any ●ct displeasing unto thee.  
In all my life, I would not sp●●ke a word,  
But, th●t which to thy liking might accord.  
I woul● not think a thought but w●at might fhow,  
That f●om thy Spirit, all ●y ●usings flow.  
I would nor hate, nor love, nor hope, nor fear,  
But as unto thy praise it useful were.  
I would not have a joy within my heart,  
Of which thou should●t not be the greater part.  
Nor would I live or dye, or happy be  
In life or death; but (Lord) to honour thee.  
Oh! let this Will (which is the precious seed  
Of thine o●●e Love) be taken for the deed.  
Assist thou m● against the potent evil  
Of my great Foes, the World, the Flesh, the Devil.  
Renew my fainting powers, my heart revive;  
Refresh my spirits, and my soul relieve.  
Lord draw me, by the cords of thy affection,  
And I shall fall in love with thy perfection.  
Unloose my chains, and I shall then be free;  
Convert me, and converted I shall be.  
Yea, to my soul (oh God) and to my senses  
Display thy beauty and thy excellencies  
So plain, that I may have them still in sight;  
And thou shalt ever be my sole delight.  
The world though she should into pieces tear me  
With troubles; from thy love should never scare me;  
Nor ●ble be to tempt me from one duty  
To ●he, with all her pleasure and her beauty.  
Behold; I came to seek thee, Lord; even here,  
Where, to attend thy presence most men fear.  
Though here I saw the Pestilence withstand me,  
I stand to know what work thou wouldst command me.  
From all the pleasures of the world, and from  
H●r hopes of safety, I am b●●her come  
Where thou art angry: and to see thy frown  
Am at thy feet, with terror, fallen down.  
Yet, hence I would not fly (although I might)  
To gain the chiefest of this world's delight,  
Till I perceive thou bid'st me go away;  
And, then, for twenty wo●lds, I would not stay.  
I came as heartily as fl●sh and blood  
Could come (that hath in it so little good)  
To do thee service: and, if die I must▪  
Lo, here I am; and, I pronounce thee just.  
Although thou sl●y me yet my soul well knows  
Thou lov●st me: And I'll trust in thee repose.  
Though in myself I feel I am polluted;  
I find a better righteousness imputed  
Then I have lost. Thy blessed Love doth fill me  
With joys, that will rev●ve me, though thou kill me.  
My sins are great; ●ut thy compassion's greater.  
I ha●e thy Quittance, though I am thy Debtor.  
And, though my temporal hopes may be destroyed▪  
Yet, I have those, that never shall be void.  
Thus, to the Lord, my soul I poured out,  
When I with dangers wa● enclosed about;  
And though I was a sinner, this appeased  
His wrath in Ch●ist, a●d my grieved soul was eased▪  
He graciously accepted, in good part,  
This poor oblation of an humbled heart.  
His Mercy se●l'd my pardon; and I shook  
The Pestilence (which hold upon me took)  
From off my shoulder, without sense of harm,  
As Paul did shake the Viper from his arm.  
That week, moreover, God beg●n to slack  
His Bow, and call his bloody Angel back;  
Who by degrees retired, as he came on.  
For, week by week, until it f●ll to none,  
The number which the Pestilence did kill,  
Was constantly, and much abated still.  
When we were fleating on that Inundation,  
At first we sent a carnal Lamentation;  
Which like the Raven (●rom Noah's Ark) did fly,  
And found nor rest▪ nor hope of remedy.  
Then sent we Dovelike Mournings: but th●●● feet  
A while could with no resting places mee●  
Then forth again we sent them, out from ●ence  
Wing'd with mo●e Charity, and Penitence.  
And then, they brought an Olive-branch of peace,  
Which made us hopeful of this Floods decrease.  
The Lord did favour to this Kingdom deign,  
And, brought from thrall, his jacob, back again.  
His people's crimes he freely did release;  
His ir● abated; his hot rage did cease.  
His praise had in our Land a dwelling place;  
And Mercy there, with justice did embrace.  
And 'twas a grace to be considered,  
That a Disease, so generally spread,  
(And so contagious) in few weeks should from  
So many thousands, to a cipher come.  
That our infectious beds, and rooms, and stuff▪  
(Which in all likelihood had been enough  
To keep the Plague among us, till it had  
Our Cities, and our Towns unpeopled made,  
Should from their noisomeness, so soon be ●r●ed▪  
Is out of doubt a matter worth our heed.  
Yea, 'tis a Mer●y (though most mind it not)  
Which in this Land should never be forgot:  
That from an enemy so dangerous,  
So great a City and so populous  
Should in three months be purified so,  
That all men might with safety, come and go.  
For, ere the following Winter was expired,  
The Citizens were to their homes retired:  
The Term from Reading, was recalled hither,  
From every Quarter, Clients came together;  
New trading was begun; another brood  
Soon filled the houses which unpeopled ●●ood;  
Our Gentry, took up their old rendevow;  
And such a concourse through our streets did flow,  
That every place was filled: and, of all those,  
(Those many thousands) who their lives did lose  
(But some ●ew months' before) no want was found,  
The people every where did so abound.  
To thee oh Lord, to thou oh Lord! be praise:  
For, thou dost wound and cure, strike down and raise  
Thou killest, and mak'st alive: thou frown'st at night,  
And, thou art pleased ere the morning light.  
When we offend thee, thou a while dost leave us▪  
When we repent, thou dost again receive us.  
To ruin thou deliverest us; and then,  
Return again (thou saift) ye sons of men.  
For, in thy wisdom thou considered haste▪  
That man is like a bubble, or a blast:  
A heap of Dust, a tuft of withered Grass,  
A fading Flower, that soon away doth pass:  
A Moment fled, which never shall retire;  
Or smoking Flax, that quickly loseth fire.  
An idle breame, which nothing doth betoken;  
A bruised Reed, which may with ease be broken:  
And therefore ●ost in judgement, Mercy mind,  
Yea, in thy greatest anger thou art kind.  
As is the space 'twixt heaven a●d earth, above,  
So large, to those that fear thee, is thy love.  
As far ●s doth from È●st, the West●eside ●eside,  
So f●r thou d●st from us our sins divide.  
Such a● a father to his child doth bear,  
S●●h love is thine, to those who thee do fear.  
T●y justice thou froedge to age declarest;  
But, such as love thee, thou for ever sparest.  
I thou but turn away from us, thy face,  
Lo, we are breathless in a moment's space.  
Thy look doth us with life again endue,  
And all our losses instantly renew.  
As oft as we rebel, thou dost forgive us;  
And though into distress, sometime, thou drive us;  
Yet, alwa●es in our sorrows we were eyed,  
And thou didst please to hear us when we cried.  
With t●●rst and hunger faint, some strayed aside,  
To seek a place where safe they might abide.  
With, worse than bands of iron, they were chained,  
And in the gloomy shades of D●ath detained.  
With h●●● and licknesse▪ they dejected were;  
And to deliver them; no help was there.  
Their wickedness when they were plagued for,  
Their soul's th● sweetest mor●●ls did abhor.  
They for their follies, did afflicted lie,  
And, to the gates of Death approached nigh.  
Their souls within them were nigh dead with fear;  
Yea, they distracted, and amazed were.  
But, when to thee they called, they were eased,  
And out of all their troubles quite released.  
Thou sentest abroad thy Word, and they were healed;  
Thy Wr●t of Indignation was repealed  
Fron out of Death's black shades t●ey were reprieved;  
And in their sorrows and their pains relieved  
From East and West, from North & South, and from  
Their several wanderings, thou shalt call them home▪  
In every quarter of the Realm thou soughtst ●hem;  
Yea to their City back again thou brought'st them:  
And there (now) joyful, and in health they be;  
From all their fears, and all their dangers free.  
Oh▪ would that men this love would think upon,  
And tell their seed what wonders thou hast done:  
Would they, Oblations, of thanksgiving, bringing,  
Thy works would praise, and publish them, in singing.  
Oh! would they were so wise that they might leanne  
Thine infinite compassion to discern;  
And that they would assist me to declare,  
How grea● thy judgements and thy Mercies are!  
Though none can of thy favours make relation,  
Nor fully utter all thy commendation;  
Yet, let us do our best, that we may raise  
A thankful Trophy to thy boundless praise.  
Let us, whom thou hast saved, thee contesse.  
And to our utmost power t●y goodness bless.  
Let us proclaim thy bounties, in the street,  
And, preach thee where ou● Congregations meet.  
Let us in private, at noon, morn, and night,  
And in all places, in thy praise delight.  
Let Prince, and Priest, and People, old, and young,  
The rich, the poor, the feeble, and the strong,  
Men, Angels, and all creatures that have name,  
Unite their powers, to publish out thy fame.  
But, howsoever, others may endeavour,  
Let me oh! God, let me oh God persever  
To magnify thy glory. Let nor day,  
Nor any morn, or evening, pass away,  
In which I shall not to remembrance bring  
Thy judgements; and of thy great Mercy, sing.  
Let, never whilst I live, my heart forget  
Those Dangers, and that strong entangled Net,  
In which my soul was hampered. Let me see  
(When, in this world, I shall best pleased be)  
My dangers such appearing as they were,  
When me, they ●ound about enclosed here:  
Yea, when, overwhelmed, with terrors, I did call,  
Like jonas, from the belly of the Whale,  
And was delivered. Lord, remember thou,  
That with unfeignedness, I beg thee, now,  
To keep me always mindful of thy love.  
And, if hereafter, I forgetful prove;  
Let this unfeignedness which thou dost give,  
An Earnest be, of what I shall receive  
In time to come Refresh my cooled zeal,  
And let thy Spirit, thy hid Love reveal.  
Let nor the fawning World, nor cunning Devil,  
Nor wanton Flesh, incite my heart to evil.  
Let not my wandering eyes, be tempted by  
Those Objects that allure to Vanity;  
Nor let my ears be charmed by their tongues,  
Wh● to betray me, chant out Syren-songs.  
Let me nor taste a Pleasure, nor obtain  
That carnal Rest, whereof I am so fain▪  
Till it shall make me plainly to perceive  
Thy love▪ and teach me, foolish paths, to leave.  
Let me be still in want; and ever striving  
With some afflictions (whilst that I am living)  
Till they for better Fortunes, better me:  
And, then, let into Rest, my entrance be.  
From year to year, (as thou hast yearly done)  
New sorrows, and new trials bring thou on  
My stubborn heart, till thou hast softened it,  
And▪ made it, for thy service, truly fi●:  
Bu●, give me hopes, and daily comforts too,  
To strengthen me, as thou hast used to do.  
And, that, in justice, Mercy may appear,  
Inflict (Oh Lord!) no more than I can bear.  
I feel (and tremble that I feel it thus)  
My flesh hath frailties which are dangerous,  
To mine own safety: and as soon as thou  
Shalt quite remove the fears that seize me now;  
My sense of thee, and those good thoughts (I doubt)  
May fail within me, or be rooted out.  
Some L●st may quench them, or some Care may choke them,  
Vain ho●●s may veil them or new-thoughts revoke them;  
The wisdom of the world, or of the Devil,  
Or, some suggestion, in myself, that's evil,  
May urge, perhaps, that it is melancholy,  
Whic● fills me no●; that superstitious folly  
Begot this awfulness; that ●his Disease  
Did accidentally, our C●t● seize;  
And, that 'tis vain to muse so much upon  
Those times or trouble's, that are past and gone.  
Oh! rather, than it should in me be so,  
Some other house of Sorrow send me to;  
And keep me, Lord, perpetual prisoner there,  
Till all such dangers overpassed are.  
Nor weal nor woe I crave, but part of either,  
As with my temper best agrees together.  
For, joy without ●hy grace, is grief's increasing,  
And wealth is poverty, without thy blessing.  
But if by passing this lifes purging fires,  
Thou shalt so purify my hearts desires,  
That without peril to my hopes of heaven,  
A temporal rest may at the last be given;  
Vouchsafe it Lord, even for the good of them  
Who my best resolutions, yet, condemn.  
Let the● discern, thou blessings hast provided,  
For that, which they unjustly have derided.  
Thou heretofore didst hear thy Servant call,  
And mad'st me free when I was close in thrall.  
Oh! to those ●o●tals make me not a scorn,  
Who to my Sham● my Glory seek to turn:  
But let it in thy time to them appear,  
That thou didst me e●ect, and me wilt hear.  
Let them perceive (though they my Lott disdain)  
The promise of this Life doth appertain  
To me as unto them. And for their sakes  
Whose weakness, otherwhile, offence takes  
At my perpetual scandals; let their eye  
Behold the turn of my Captivity;  
And know tha● I have walked in a path,  
Which, in this life time, some smooth paces hath.  
B●t, nought repine I, though this boon thou grant not.  
For, that which thou to me deniest I want not.  
I know thy Wisdom knows what best will fit me:  
I know thy Power enough those things to get me:  
I know thy Love is large enough to me:  
I know thy Pleasure should my pleasure be:  
Thy will be done, and hallowed be thy Name,  
Although it be through my perpetual shame.  
Whilst on such Meditations I was fe●ding  
My pleased soul (and Gods great goodness heeding)  
That I might fill her with contemplating  
On him, from whom all happiness doth spring:  
A sudden Rapture did my Muse prepare  
For higher things than she did lately dare.  
Me thought, I saw God's justice and his Love  
Installed on one throne in heaven above.  
I had imperfect fights, and glimmering notions,  
Concerning some of their particular motions,  
About this Orb. I much perceived, me thought,  
O those their wondrous works which they had wrought  
In former days. And, as within a Glass,  
Some things I saw, which they will bring to pass  
In future times. By help of God's great Book,  
(Which for my Ephemerideses I took)  
I had procured a large intelligence  
Of justice and of Mercies Influence.  
There, learned I theseverall Aspects,  
And, of those St●ries the several effects:  
W●ile in conjunction those two Lights I saw;  
The best Alt●o●o●ers could never draw  
From all the planetary Constellations  
(Even 〈◊〉 ●heir best) such heavenly consolations.  
I co●●d conjecture of their wo●ke divine,  
In Sextile, or in Qu●drine, or in Trine;  
And what prodigious Plagues the world should fright  
If their aspect were wholly Opposite.  
Some things, by calculation I discerned,  
Which this our British Latitude concerned;  
And most of them not much impertinent  
For all Mer●dians through Earth's Continent.  
I saw of Weale and Woe the many ranges:  
I saw the restless Wheel of mortal changes:  
I saw how Cities, Commonwealths, and Men,  
Did rise and fall, and ●ise and fall again.  
I saw the reason, why all Times and States,  
Have such vicissitudes, and various fates.  
I saw what doth occasion War, and Peace;  
What causeth Dearth, and what doth bring Increase.  
I saw what hardens, and what mollifies;  
And whence all Blessings, and all Plagues arise▪  
I saw how sins are linked in together  
As in a Chai●●; how one doth cause another;  
And how to every link throughout the Chain,  
Are fixed those Plagues which to that Crime pertain▪  
I saw un●eal'd, that hellish Mystery,  
Of carnal and mere worldly policy,  
Whereby the Devil fools this generation,  
And brings on Christendom such molestation.  
I saw (as plain, as ever I did see  
The Sun at none) what damned projects be  
Veiled o'er with Piety, and Holy zeal:  
And how, a Christian Ath'isme now doth steal  
Upon this age. Forgive me that I saw  
A Christian Ath'isme; for, even to betray  
Christ jesus, Christ and jesus, those two Names,  
Are oft usurped; and it us defames.  
I saw, why some abuse their holy Calling,  
And why so many Stars from heaven are falling.  
I had a Licence given me, to come  
Where I might see the Dev●ls Tiring-roome,  
And, all the Masks, the Vizards, and Disguises,  
Which he to murder, cheat, or rob, devises.  
And wears himself, or lends falsehearted brothers  
Therewith to fool themselves, or cozen others.  
Here lay a Box of zeal professing Eyes,  
Which serve for acting of Hypocrisies.  
Hard by, another, full of Double-hearts,  
For those who play the Amb●dexters parts.  
There, stood a Ch●st of counterfeited Graces;  
Another, full of honest-seeming Faces.  
Yo●n, hung a suit, which, had some Traitor got,  
He might have passed for a Patriot.  
Close by, were pr●ss● fools of such suits, as they  
Do wea●e (in every Kingdom at this day)  
Who pass for Statesmen; when, God knows, they be  
As far from that, as knaves from loving me.  
There, hung those masking-suits, in which the Popes,  
And Cardinals, pursue their carnal hopes.  
There, were those formal Garbs, wherein false friends  
Disguise themselves, for some unfaithful ends.  
Fair counterfeits for Bishops saw I there,  
So like their habits that are most sincere,  
(And so be●ainted) that if they were set  
Upon the back of our Arch counterfeit,  
He could not be distinguished from the best  
O● all those Prelates, that have Christ professed.  
There, viewed I all those juggling sleights with which  
Men work false miracles; and, so, betwitch  
Deluded souls There, saw I all the trick●  
And Fa●tosmes wherewithal our Schismatics  
Abuse themselves and others. There (with ruth)  
I saw false-Doctrines, trimmed about with Truth;  
Faced out, with Fathers; pee●'d, and neatly deafened,  
With Sentences, and Sayings, of the Learned.  
Yea, with God's holy Scriptures, interweaved,  
So cunningly, as w●uld have nigh deceived  
Even hi● Elect: (and, many a one, alas,  
Of these, for Christian Verities doth pass.)  
I saw moreover, with what Robes of Light,  
The King of Darkness doth his person dight▪  
To make it Angel like; and how he screws  
Himself among our muse, to abuse  
Our understandings; how he lays his hooks▪  
And baits, at Sermons, and in godly-books;  
(Although the Authors had, in their invention,  
A pious meaning, and a good intention)  
I saw what venom he doth hurl into  
Our heert'est prayers, and those works we do  
In purest charity: and how he strives  
To poison us in our preservatives.  
When all these M●skings, and a thousand more,  
My apprehensions eye had looked into:  
From thence my Contemplation raised my thought,  
And, to a higher Station I was brought.  
There, I beheld what ruin and confusion,  
Was of these Mummeries, the sad conclusion.  
There, ●aw I what Catastroph●s attend  
Those Vanities, wherein ou● times we spend:  
How God still counterworks▪ and overthrows  
The projects of the Devil, and our Fo●s.  
And, tell I could (●ut that it would be prated,  
I some Prophetic spirit arrogated)  
Strange news to those m●n● ears, who have not learned  
What nay, by M●litation, be discerned▪  
Yet, all th●●● conce●v● I cannot write:  
Nor would I though I co●ld: for, so I might  
Throw Pearls to Swi●n; of whom I may be torn▪  
Be trampled in the more, and ma●e a scorn.  
Nay, tell m● sel●e I d●re not, what I spy,  
When I have ●●oughts of most transcendency;  
Lest Pride possess me, and should cast me down,  
As far below, as I on high hav● flown:  
For, when we nearest unto heaven do so●re,  
(Till we are there) our perils are the more;  
Since, there is wickedness which we do call  
The wickedness that is spiritual  
In heavenly places And as we do know  
The●e is a Lightning which dot● often go  
Quite through t●e body, to the vital pa●t,  
And kill the very spirits at the heart,  
Y●t never harm the fl●sh; because it m●y  
Through v'ry por●us member make it way  
Without impression▪ So, from our offences,  
Th● Devil doth extract some Q●●ntess●●ses▪  
Which we may rightly nam●, the spiri● of 〈◊〉▪  
And, til● ou● thoughts have sublimated been,  
They a●e too gross for that to work upon.  
But, when ●uc● Sublimations are begun,  
He do●h infuse his chemical receipt,  
And, ●ither w●●k● precipitation, st●a●ght,  
O● m●kes those V●●tues, which pure gold were thought  
When they shall come to trial, worse than nought▪  
I saw this danger (as my soul did fly  
To God ward) and the Devil's Chemistry,  
I learned how to frustrate; by assuming  
Humility▪ and shunning high presuming.  
ay, of those lovel● G●ace●, got the view,  
Which te●ch us how such peril● to eschew.  
I learned there, how th●y m●g●t be procured;  
How the● continuance might be still secured;  
And, in my power i● is not to express,  
How I was filled with h●pes of happiness.  
My thoughts (yet) climbed higher and perceive●  
A ●l●mpse o● thin●s ●h●t ca●not be conceived.  
The Love of God; the joys that are ●o co●e;  
A●d many fights ●hat long were h●dden from  
My blinded Soul. This, set my heart ●n fire  
To climb a little, and a little high●●;  
Till I was up so high, that I did see  
The World, but like an Atom, under me.  
Me thought, it was not worth my looking on;  
Much less, the setting of my love upon.  
My soul did strive to mix herself among  
The Cherubins, and in their Angell-song  
To bear a part; and, secrets to unskreene,  
That cannot by our mortal eyes be seen.  
And, I would gladly thither have ascended,  
Whe●e joys are perfect, and all woes are ended.  
As thus I mounted; by degrees I felt  
My strength to fail me, and my wings to melt:  
My flesh waxed faint; my objects grew too pure,  
For my gross understanding to endure.  
A kind of shuddering did my heart surprise,  
Like that which comes when sudden thoughts arise.  
I fared like him, who sleeping, dreams of store,  
And waking, finds himself exceeding poor.  
A power unseen, did hold upon me take,  
And, to my soul, to this effect it spoke.  
" I say it was God's Spirit; if you doubt  
" I arrogate, come hear the matter out:  
" For, who the Speaker is, that will disclose:  
" And, if 'twere he, his Flock, his language knows.  
Despair not Soul (it said) though thou art fain  
To sink from these, to common thoughts again.  
Nor murmur thou, that yet thou must not rise  
To thy wished height. God's favour will suffice  
For that which wants; and these high thoughts are given  
In earnest of chat part of thine in heaven,  
Which by t●y Royal Master is prepared;  
And, in thy time allotted, shall be shared.  
St●ive to ascend; but strain not over long,  
Thy climbing spirits, lest thou do them wrong.  
The Flesh is heavy, though the Soul be light▪  
And, Heaven is seldom reached at one flight.  
Mount high; but, mount not higher than thy bound;  
Lest thou be loft, and all that thou hast found.  
Search deep; but search no deeper than thy power;  
Lest some infernal Depth may thee devour.  
Observe thy Maker's glory by reflection;  
But, gaze not overmuch at his perfection;  
Lest that great lustre blind thee. Take thou heed,  
Lest while thou thinkst thou homeward dost proceed,  
Thou quite be loft: For, though these flights do raise  
Thy Soul with pleasure, they are dangerous waye●.  
When higher than the vulgar pitch she towers  
She meets with Principalities, and Powers,  
Who wrestle with her, that she may not rise▪  
Or tempt her on, by Curiosities,  
To lead the mind astray, until it wanders  
Among the windings of unsafe Meanders.  
Then doth it whirl about, to see things hidden;  
Pries after Secrecies that are forbidden;  
And by a path, which tends to Heaven, in show,  
Ariuéth, unaware, at Hell below.  
Take heedof this▪ the way to heaven is steep;  
Yet, ere thou climb it, thou must often creep.  
The work appointed thee, is yet unended,  
And, God's good pleasure must be still attended  
Even in this world, until he cal● thee thence.  
His Kingdom must be got by violence.  
Thou must with many frailties, yet, contend,  
Before thy Christian warfare hath an end.  
The World is brewing yet another Cup  
Of Bitterness, for thee to swallow up.  
Thou hast from Heaven an Errand yet to do,  
Which (if God hinder not) will call thee to  
More troubles, and more hatred bring upon thee,  
Then all thy former Messages have won thee.  
And be thou sure, the Devil will devise  
Al● slanders, and all wicked infamies  
That may disparage thee: or fruitless make,  
That use ●ll wo●ke which thou dost undertake.  
Thou must prepare t●ine ears to ●eare the noise▪  
Of causeless threatening, or the foolish voice  
Of ignorant reprovers▪ ●nd expect  
The secret Censures of ea●h g●ddy Sect.  
Thou must provide thyself, to hea●e great Lords  
Talk, withou●●eason, big impe●ious wo●ds.  
Thou must contented be to make repai●e  
(If need require) before the Scorn●rs Chair,  
To hear t●em jeer, and flout, and take in hand  
To scoff at what ●hey do● not understand.  
Or say, perhaps, that of t●y self thou mak'st  
Some goodly thing; or th●t thou undertakest  
Above thy Calling; or unwarranted:  
Not heeding from who●e mouth it hath been said,  
" Gods Wisdom oft elects, what m●n despise;  
" And foolish things, to fool the worldly wise.  
But ●ea●e thou n●t. For, he that in all places,  
And from all dangers, wants, and all disgraces,  
Hath hitherto preserved the●; will secure  
Thy safety now. That hand which did procure  
Release from thy clo●e Thraldoms, and maintained  
Thy hea●t content, while thou went so restrained;  
Will be the same for ever: and, like stubble,  
Consume; or, like the weakest water-bubbl●.  
Dissolve t●e force of every machination▪  
Whereby the world shall seek thy molestation.  
Though thou in knowledge ar● a Child, as yet;  
And, seemest not by outward Calling fi●  
For such a task: yet, do not thou disable  
What God shall please to say is warrantable.  
His Word, remaineth s●ill in date, which says,  
That, On the children of the later days,  
He would pour out a measure of his Spirit;  
And, thou thereof a portion shalt inherit.  
Though thou despised art; yet God by thee  
Shall bring to pass a work which strange will be  
To most beholders; and, no doubt, it shall  
Occasion some to stand, and some to fall.  
For, men to ruin doomed, will misconceive it;  
And, they that shall have safety, will receive it.  
Thy God ha●h touched thy Tongue, and tipped thy Pen;  
And, therefore, fear not thou the face of men,  
Lest ●e destroy thee. For, this day to stand  
Against Princes, Priests, and People of this Land,  
Thou a●t appointed: and they shall in vain  
Contend. For, thou the conquest shalt obtain.  
Although that viperous Brood upon thee lights,  
Whose poisoned tongue with kill slander smites;  
And, though the barbarous People of this I'll,  
Do thereupon adjudge thee, for a while,  
A man so wicked▪ that (although thou hast  
The Sea of Troubles, without ship wrack, past)  
God's Vengeance will not suffer thee to live  
The life of honest Fame: Let that not grieve  
Thy heart a whit. F●r, though their eyes do see  
Reproaches, which like Vipers, hanging be,  
Upon thy flesh; th●y shall perceive e'er long,  
That thou (unharmed) them away hast flung.  
And they who did expect to see thee fall,  
For thy firm standing, p●aise God's mercy shall.  
Against oppression, he will ●afe maintain thee,  
Even God, who oft did his protection deign thee;  
And took thy part against all those, that sought  
How they thy Muse, to silence, might have brought.  
He, that preserved thee from this plague, will save thee:  
For, he thy life even of mere mercy, gave thee,  
To serve him with Thou know'st thou art a Brand,  
Snatched from the flaming fire, by Gods own hand;  
And that to him thou owest, all thou art,  
And all thy Faculties, in every part.  
Take heed, therefore, that nothing thou refuse  
To utter, which he prompts unto thy Muse.  
Be constant: and, Elihu-like, beware  
That thou accept not persons; nor declare  
With glozing ●i●les, that which thou shalt say;  
Left God may take thee suddenly away:  
But, publish that which he of thee requires,  
In terms, and words, as he the same inspires.  
For, to this Realm and City thou art sent,  
To warn, that of their follies they repent;  
To show for what omissions, and offences,  
God sendeth Famines, Wars, and Pestilences;  
And to pronounce what other plagues will come,  
If their Transgressions they depart not from.  
Indeed, of Priests and Prophets, store have they,  
And, some of them are like enough to s●y;  
When came the Spirit of the Lord to thee,  
From us, who no such dangers can foresee  
As thou pretendest? These are they that share  
The pleasures of the time, with such as are  
The Lands perdition. These are they which tie  
Soft pillows to men's elbows; and still cry  
Peace, peace; even when perdition, hanging over  
The people's heads, they plainly m●y discover.  
But, they that are true Priests of God among them,  
And his true Prophets, think not, he doth wrong them,  
If he do choose a Herdsman: nor will such  
●nvy the same (or at the blessing grudge)  
I● all were Prophets, and God pleased were  
To make that Gift to every man appear.  
Though Gods own presence, had made Moses wise;  
Yet. Iethro's counsel would he not despise.  
He, whom the Angel fed, did also eat  
Even when the Ravers came to bring him meat:  
And, all that of their spirit partners be,  
Will hear what's good, though published by thee.  
Behold; this thankless People (from whose Land  
God hath but newly took his heavy hand)  
Forget already what his mercy hath  
Vouchsafed; and his late inflamed wrath.  
S●e, how they flock together, to pursue  
New mischiefs, and old follies to renew.  
Their evil courses, they afresh begin;  
And, even those very purposes of sin,  
Whose prosecution this great Plague hath stayed,  
To finish now they are no whit afraid.  
Those Discords which they, many times, pretended,  
Amid their fears, should christianly be ended,  
(If God would spare them) are again revived;  
And diverse new malicious plots contrived.  
Those Lusts, of which th●y seemed much ashamed;  
Those Vanities, for w●●ch themselves they blamed;  
Those Bargains, whic● their conscience did persuade  
Were wicked; & o●●od abhorred made them; (then,  
That Pride; that Slo●●; that Envy; that Excess;  
That Cruelty; t●at I●religiousnesse;  
Yea, all that wickedness pursued before,  
(And which they fai●●● so truly to deplore)  
Returns with interest; and they contemn  
Good things; as if the Plague had hardened them.  
Like Phar'oh, they repented while the Rod  
Was laid upon them. But, as soon as God  
Removed it; their minds they changed too;  
And would not let their evil customs go.  
Go therefore instantly, go draw the Map  
Of that great Plague from which they did eseape:  
Set thou before their eyes, as in a glass,  
How great God's Mercy, and their danger was.  
Lay open their gross crimes, that they may see  
How hateful, and how infinite they be.  
Declare what mischiefs their enormities  
Have caused; and will daily cause to rise.  
Pronounce those judgements which Gods holy Word  
Doth for the Wages of their Crimes record.  
And (as the blessed Spirit shall enable,  
Thy Muse; and, show thee what is warrantable)  
Tell boldly, what will on their ways attend,  
Unless their lives and courses they ●mend.  
D●lay it not; and let no work of thine;  
No goodly-seeming hope, or fair design,  
(How promising soever) draw thee from  
This Task, until unto an end it come.  
For, no affair of thine shall find success,  
Till thou hast finished this great Business.  
If any man that is thy friend, or foe,  
Shall this deride; and say it is not so;  
But, that thy Fancy only eggeth on  
Thy Muse: or, that to do, or leave undone  
This work, were much alike. If any ●ay  
Thou mayst proceed herein, with such delay,  
As, vulgarly, discretion thinketh fit:  
Or, as thy common Business will permit.  
Nay, if thou meet, as thou mayst me●t with some,  
Who like a Prophet, unto thee will come;  
And (as the Man of G●d seduced was,  
Who told in Bethel what should come to pass  
Concerning jeroboam's Altar there)  
Persuading thee, those thoughts delusions are:  
That, self-conceit, or pride, hath made thee dream  
That thou art bound to prosecute this Theme:  
Believe them not. For, if that Man of God  
Here mentioned, did feel so sharp a rod,  
When his delay was but to eat and drink;  
(Perchance through hunger) and when he did think  
A Prophet sent by God, had licenc'd him:  
Take heed thou do not this advice contemn.  
For, since this motion urgeth nought that's ill,  
Nor contradicteth Gods revealed will;  
But rather helps effect it: since he moves it  
So naturally, that thine own soul approves it  
To be his act; beware how thou suspect it,  
Or how thou shalt be careless to effect it.  
Let not a worldly wisdom, (nor the scoff  
Of any) from this motive drive thee off.  
Take heed the fear of dangers, not the loss  
Of carnal hopes, thy purpose, herein, cross.  
Take heed, that Ionas-l●ke, thou be not bend  
To Tharsus▪ when thou know'st that thou art sent  
To Niniveh. For, all thy doubts, and fear,  
Will be as causeless, as his doubtings were:  
And be thou sure, that wheresoever thou be,  
A Tempest and a Whale shall follow thee.  
My heart received this Message; did allow  
It came from God; and made a solemn Vow▪  
It would not entertain a serious thought  
Of any worldly thing, till that were brought  
To full perfection: no, although it might  
Endanger losing my best fortune quite.  
But, oh I how frail is Man? and how unable  
In any goodness to continue stable?  
How subtle is the Devil? and what b●its,  
And undermining policies and sleights,  
Hath he to cousin us? My soul was raised  
So high, erewhile, that I admired and praised  
My blessed estate: And thought, with D●vid, then,  
My heart sh●ll never be removed age●.  
But, see, how soon, if God withdraw his eye▪  
We fall to hell, that up to heav●n did fly.  
I would have sworn (when in my Contemplation,  
I was ascended to t●at lofty Station,  
So lately mentioned) that I should h●ve scorned  
The goodl'est prize the Devil could have suborned  
To tempt me by. I thought, if God had said,  
Do this; that (though the World had all been laid  
To be my wages, if I should delay  
The doing of the same▪ but half a day)  
〈…〉 ●●ve rather cho●e to have forsaken  
My life: then so to have been overtaken.  
Yet, lo●; so craftily a bait was laid;  
S●●h shows of Goodness▪ thereinto convaid▪  
〈◊〉 means of hel●e to Piety, pretended;  
●o me so seemed it, to be recommended  
By God himself; and, such necessity  
Appeared of taking opportunity  
As th●n it offered was, that I suspected  
I had ●one ill, the same to have neglected.  
N●y, to my Understanding, true Discretion,  
And, all the Wisdom of this Generation,  
Did ●o concur together to betray  
My h●a●t; that I did foolishly delay  
The Tas● enjoyed. Yea, what I had bgun,  
(Proceed●d in) and purposed should be do●●  
Before my best affairs; even that I threw  
Aside; and other hopes I did pursue.  
I broke my Vow, and I was led awry  
For that which was mor● light then Vanity;  
And so my hopes my judgement did beguil●,  
That, I supposed all was well th● while.  
Most, also, th●ught me wi●ely to ha●e done,  
And, ●uch a fortune to have lighted on;  
That o●h●rs, of my happiness, began  
To talk; and reckon me a prosperous man.  
But, many scandals, passions, and vexations,  
Much hindrance, and a wo●ld of perturba●ions,  
Pursued me; to let me understand,  
That I had taken some wrong ●ct in hand.  
For, though like jonas, I resolved not quite  
From God's commands to make a stubborn slight;  
Yet w●nt I to his Work the furthest way▪  
And, travelled, as mine own occasions lay.  
Which he perceiving, s●nt a Storm that c●est me;  
Mad● shipwreck of my hopes; my labour les● me;  
Befooled my wisdom's; of ●uch joy bere●t me;  
Within the Sea of many troubles lest me;  
And, what with speed and ease I ●ight have done  
At first▪ hath long with pain been lingered on.  
Yea, when the Ha●v●st of my great repute  
Was looked for (and most expected fruit)  
It proved chaff; and, plainly I perceived,  
That God had suffered me to be deceived;  
To warn me, that hereafter, I should never▪  
Omit, for any reason whatsoever,  
His motions; nor with holy vows dispense:  
B●t work his pleasure, with all diligence.  
Which after I had heeded, I descried  
By what, and whither, I was drawn aside▪  
I plainly saw, that what I then had sought  
W●th hope of comfort, would my woe have wrought▪  
I f●und that likely to have been to me  
A Curse, which promised my Bliss to be.  
I praised God, as for a savour done,  
That he did lose m●, what I might have won:  
And what the world did think me hapless in,  
I ●ound a gracious blessing to have been.  
I s●w my fault; I saw, in vain I sought  
To work my will, till ● Gods will had wrought.  
I saw that while the furthest way I went,  
God's Mercy did my foolishness prevent:  
Yea, made it (by his providence divine)  
A great advantage to his own Design.  
And, for my negligence when I had mourned,  
To my proposed Labour, I returned.  
I begged of God ●hat he would give me grace,  
To be more constant in a godly race.  
I did beseech him to bestow again  
Those Apprehensions, which my hopes in vain  
Had made me lose: and that, for my demerit▪  
He would not quench in me his holy Spirit:  
But, gran● me power to prosecute my story,  
And utter forth his Message, to his ●lory.  
My su●e was heard: I got wh●t I desired:  
My soul, with m●tter, was anew inspired.  
M● eyes were cleared; my heart was new enlarged:  
Bold Resolution's h●d all Fears discharged:  
And, that which was disclosed unto me,  
Doth appertain, Great Britain, unto the●▪  
Come hear me therefore; for, howe'er thou t●ke it▪  
My Conscience bids me, and I mean to speak it.  
Within thy power thou hast me; and what e'er  
Shall good and right in thine own ey●s appear,  
Thou mayst inflict upon me: But, this kn●w,  
That what I shall declare, God bids me show;  
And that, if I for this, have harm, or shame;  
My God shall at thy hands require the sam●.  
Oh! let not my requests in vain be made;  
Nor to thy former sins, another add.  
And, my sweet Country, and dear Countrymen,  
Let not these overflowings of my pen  
Distasteful be; as if their spring had been▪  
But either from the Gall, or from the Spleen.  
Let not this ages false Int●rpr●ter,  
(Which makes both judgement and Affection err)  
Corrupt my Text, by their false Commentary,  
To make your good opinions to miscarry.  
For, though in me (as in all flesh and blood)  
M●ch error hinders from that perfect good  
Which I ●ffect: y●t I his meed may claim,  
Who makes God's glory, and your weal his aim;  
And, begs but of his words a pa●ient hearing;  
And, from your follies a discreet forbearing.  
If there be Truth, and Reason, in the M●ss●ge,  
Let not my person hinder my Ambassage.  
If God shall in his Mercy pleased be,  
To make a Factor for his praise of me;  
Let none the poorness of my gifts de●ide,  
Since he to no external means is tied.  
Despise not what I speak, for what I am;  
Unless you find the mat●er be to blame.  
For, God by Babes and Sucklings, oft, reve●l●s,  
What from the wisest worldlings he conceals.  
Both Heaven and Earth, to witness here I c●ll,  
I dared not speak what now I utter shall,  
Unless I thought, that God did me inspire;  
And would this duty at my hands require.  
Nor dared I to be silent, though I kn●w  
That every m●n had vowed ●o pursue  
My So●le to D●ath; because m● conscience takes  
Acknowledgement, that God within me speaks.  
I do not this, for that I se●selesse am,  
(Oh! Englan●) of thy infamy or shame:  
For, thy dishonour doth concern me nearly;  
And thee my heart affects far more dearly,  
Then coward's do their lives. I would dist●ll  
My blood (as ink is drained from my quill)  
Even drop by drop; or else, at once, le● all  
Gush forth, to save thy honour from a fall.  
I aim not at a vain or fruitless glory,  
B● d●ring: for, I know the mortal story  
Of all the glorioust actions, that are under  
The heaven's large curt●in, are but nine day's wō●er.  
And that the most deserving works we do,  
M●y ruin● us, and help disgrace us too.  
I do it not that I may wealthy grow:  
For, I the world's rewards already know  
●n such attempts. Experience I have gained,  
What poor preferments this way are obtained.  
My former Strains (which did but way prepare  
For that, which I hereafter should declare)  
Received evermore the worst reward,  
As they grew better worthy of regard.  
A●● (if God let not) as these are my best,  
M● troubles, will for them, exceed the rest.  
'tis odds, but that the wilful Generation,  
F●● who● I write this large Anticipation,  
(●o stay their censure) will scarce read so f●r,  
A● hitherto, where th●se Preventions are:  
B●t, here, and there, pick out some tart relations,  
W●●hout observing of those moderations  
That follow or precede them. Else, perchance  
Their brazen and Herculcan Ignorance  
Will strongly keep that Understanding from them,  
Whereby the power of Reason might o'ercome them.  
Some also, peradventure, will ●orget,  
How, when I formerly was round beset  
W●th many troubles, I did still despise  
The r●ging fury of mine enemies.  
Yea some, no doubt, will have a mind to see  
What kind of power, there is in them, or me;  
And whilst such men there are, he thinks amiss,  
Who thinks to thrive by such a course as this.  
'tis not from envy of their Lott, who grow  
Great men, or wealthy, whence these lines do flow▪  
For, I rejoi●e in each man's happiness,  
Th●t to Go●s praise, good fortunes doth possess:  
And they that know my person, witness can,  
My looks assure, I am no envious man.  
It i● not malice that hath wrought upon  
My Passi●ns: for, I vow, I malice none.  
No line or word of this which now I write,  
Proceeds from rancour, or unchristian spite.  
When I have wrong received, if I say  
Wherein; what harm do I in th●t I p●ay?  
'Twere much if when we injury susta●ne,  
We neither may have help, nor ye● complain.  
'Twere hard, if knowing I had many foes,  
I might not say so, lest some should suppose  
What Names they bear. To no man this will show them,  
But, unto ●uch as do already know them.  
Nor▪ when I mention wrongs, do I intend  
Their shame who do them; but some better end.  
For, they that yet are enemies of mine,  
May prove Go●s friends, and to my good incline.  
I wis● them well, what e'er they wish to me;  
And of their harms wou●d no procurer be.  
In general terms, I point out those that orre;  
With none I meddle in particular:  
For, knaves and honest men a●e so alike,  
In many things, that I amiss may strike.  
I find the faults; let others find the men.  
I no man judge; let no man judge me then.  
My M●se●ath ●ath not usurped this Commission:  
No● arrogateth to mine own condition,  
More excellence than others: But, I shar●  
A part in those reproofs that others b●a●e.  
I do not think mine own a spotless eye,  
Because it faults in others can espy.  
I never thought it was enough for me,  
A Critic in my neighbour's faults to be,  
Unless I m●rkt mine own: which here I do▪  
And ch●ck the world's and m●n● own errors too.  
I mean t● wink at n●n●; at none I aim;  
To heed or friend's or foes▪ I do disclaim.  
My Bow i● bend, and I must sho●t a flight▪  
Of shafts, that wil●●n d●ver● places light.  
Perhaps some o● them my best friends may wound▪  
Vpo● myself, som● o●he●s m●y rebound.  
S●●e (shot alo●t) may ●●ar the Kites that fly  
A●ove th● clouds, themselves to Eaglifie.  
Some p●er●e t●e●r s●des, who thought they had been got  
B●●ond th● re●ching of my winge● shot.  
A●● some who thou●ht th●y h●d concealed been,  
M●y fe●le my ar●ow●●, wh●re they lurk unseen.  
Light w●ere they w●ll the cart's already taken:  
Si●c● none but he tha●'s guilty can b● struck.  
Hist thou forgot, oh! Britain●, (and so soon)  
●hy lates afflictions, and Gods graci●us boon?  
As soon as e'er thy neck unflacked feels  
The kerbing Rhine, dost thou let fly thy heels?  
Shall nor Gods Iustic●, nor his matchless Love▪  
Thy flinty nature to repentance move?  
But wilt thou still in crooked paths persever,  
And of thy Vanities repent thee never?  
Oh! look about thee; yea, look back, and see  
What wondrous things thy God hath done for thee.  
Thou wert in future times, an uncouth place▪  
That had of wildness the deformed face.  
Thou wert long time, the seat of Desolation,  
And when thou hadst but slender reputation,  
God looked upon thee, with the first of all  
Those Gentiles, whom in mercy he did call.  
Of his beloved Vineyards, thou wert one;  
And s●●uate like that, once placed upon  
The fruitfulst Hill. God, for thy Fence prepared  
A natural wall, by ●is own hands upreared.  
He took away that stony heartedness,  
Which did thy heathenish children first possess;  
And hath been pleased, many times, since th●n,  
To gather out those flinty hearted men,  
Who by a bloody persecuting hand,  
Did harm thy tender Saplings in thy Land.  
He plucked out of thee the stinking weeds  
Of Sin and Superstition; that the seeds  
Of Truth and Hol●ne●se might here be sown,  
Where wickedness the so●le had overgrown.  
The choicest Plants (of that Vine-mys●icall,  
His onelysonne) he planted thee withal.  
The stately Watch tower of his Providence  
Completely furnished, for thy defence,  
In thee was builded up; and did appear  
To many other Kingdoms, far and near:  
And on the lofty Turrets of the same  
He set his Flags, and Ensigns of his Name,  
Whose beauteous Colours being wide displayed,  
Did make thy adversaries all afraid.  
Within thy Borders, hath his Love divine  
The Winepress, of a Christian discipline  
Erected; and in every season given  
(To make thee fruitful) dews & showers from heaven.  
Yea thou hast had, since food of life grew scanty,  
Not barely seven, but seventy years of plenty.  
What grace soever might repeated be  
That God for Isr'el did, he did for thee.  
He from a thraldom, worse than they sustained,  
While in th' Egyptian bondage they remained,  
Did bring thy Children through Baptisms Flood,  
And drown thy Fo●s, within a Sea of Blood.  
Thy Coast unto a large extent he stretcheth,  
For, even from Sea to Sea it compass fetcheth▪  
Thy Land with Milk and Honey overflows.  
In thee all pleasure, and all plenty grows.  
God kept thee as the apple of an eye;  
And, as when Eaglets are first taught to fly,  
Their Dam about th●m hovers; so, thy God,  
Doth over thee, display his wings abroad.  
A Land of Hills and Dales thou wert created;  
And in a Clime, so profitable, seated,  
Th●t whereas many other Lands are fain  
To water all their seeds, and plants, with pain,  
Thou fav'st that labour: for, the Dews yield matter  
To cheer thy Gardens, and the Clouds bring water.  
Fair Woods & Groves, do yet adorn thy Mountain●;  
Thou a●t a Land of Rivers, and of● ountaines:  
Springs hot and cold, and fresh, and salt, there be▪  
And, some that cure diseased folk in thee.  
Thee, both in Town and Field, the Lord hath blest;  
Thy People and thy cattle are increased.  
Blessed wert thou in thy going forth to war;  
And blessed also thy returnings were.  
He blessed thee in thy store, and in thy basket:  
Thine own request he gave, when thou didst ask it:  
He evermore hath timely favours done thee:  
Throughout the year his eye hath been upon thee:  
He careful was, what perils might betide thee;  
And heedful all things needful to provide thee:  
In Grass, and Corn, and Fruits, thou dost excel:  
Thy Horse are strong, thine Oxen labour well:  
The udders of thy Kine grow large with milk:  
Thy Sheep yield fleeces, like the Persian silk:  
Thy Stones are Iron, and ●hy Hills are big  
With Minerals, which from their wombs we dig:  
Thy Soil is neither over moist, nor dry:  
The Sun n●r keeps too far nor comes too nigh:  
Thy Air doth few contagious vapours breed:  
Nor doth it, oft, in heat, or cold exceed.  
Still, for thy sins, thou hadst thy due corrections;  
And, foundst compassion in thy great afflictions.  
His Prophets and his Preachers God hath sent  
In every age, to move thee to repent;  
And, them thou smot'st, and murtherd'st, now & then;  
Yet, gave he not to other Husbandmen  
His wronged Vineyard: but, doth yet attend,  
In expectation, when thou wilt amend.  
He, over all thy Foes, the conquest gave thee:  
He did from wrong, by neighbouring Nations, save thee:  
And, they to fear and honour thee were moved,  
Because they saw thee, of thy God, beloved.  
Thou hadst a Deborah bestowed upon thee,  
Who freed thee from thy Foes, and glory won thee,  
In spite of Sisera: For, God did please  
To make the Stars, the Clouds, the Winds, and Se●s,  
To fight thy battles. When her turn w●s gone.  
He raised up another Solomon,  
With●n thy Borders to establish peace,  
Who to thy glories added an increase.  
Thou wert as often warned, and punished;  
As much besought; as largely promised,  
As judah was. Thy Church that lately seemed  
Like barren Hannah (and was disesteemed  
Of proud Peninnah) in a spiritual breed,  
Doth most of Zion's Daughters, now exceed:  
And thou hast viewed many of thy sons,  
To sit and govern, on earth's glorious Thrones.  
The jewish Commonwealth was n●ver daigned  
More great Deliverances than thou hast gained.  
Nor was their help vouchsafed in better season;  
As Eighty eight, and our great Powder-treason,  
Can witness well. For, then thy preservation  
Was wrought by God (to all men's admiration)  
Even when Hell's jaws, on thee, were like to ●lose;  
And when, for humane aid to interpose,  
There scarce was means, or time. All which was done  
That thou Gods love mightst think the more upon.  
Moreover, that no means might pass un●ride,  
Which God did for the jews of old provide;  
To thee he also sends his only Son:  
Not, as to them, a poor con●emned one,  
(That, seeing him, they might not him perceive,  
And hea●ing him, no knowledge of him have)  
Not as a weakling, or illiterate:  
Or mean, or in a persecuted ●late:  
Or one whose person, beauty, and complexion,  
In th●m, had nothing stirring up affection;  
Nor as a man that worthy seemed of scorn,  
Of mocks, of whips, and of a crown of tho●ne:  
He came not so to thee for, thou hadst ●hen  
Despised and crucified him again,  
As well as they: yea, thou perchance, hadst more  
Despighted him, than others heretofore.  
But, in a glorious wise to thee he came:  
With power, with approbation, and with fame.  
His Fishermen (that heretofore did seem  
To jews and Gentiles, of so mean esteem)  
Had won whole Country's from Idolatry,  
And made them to confess his sovereignty▪  
He comes to thee with honour, like a King:  
He did into (the Church) his Kingdom, bring  
A settled Government. He had assuaged  
That jewish and that Ethnic spite, which raged  
At his first coming. Emperors became  
His Viceroys; and did govern in his Nam●.  
Thou sawst fulfilled, many things (of old)  
Both by his Prophet's and Himself, foretold;  
Which did confirm him, that Messiah, whom  
Thou shouldst receive. His Doctrines well become  
His purity: and, witnessed is he  
By Martyrs and Confessors, him to be  
Whom thou shouldst hear. And (this hath greater made  
Thy Favours, than that Grace the jews have had)  
Their threats, th●ir punishments, their ignorances,  
Thei● pertinacy, and deliverances,  
Their fall, risings, and relapses, are  
Recorded, that by them thou mightst beware.  
Thou know'st what Desolation they are in,  
In recompense of their despiteful s●n,  
The murder of their Brother: yea, like Cain,  
Thou seest, that, yet, they vagabonds remain.  
Thou hearest, their fruitful Land hath ever since,  
Been cur● with barrenness, for their offence:  
That, without King, Priest, Prophet, or good order,  
They through the wo●ld have wandered for their murder  
Nigh sixteen hundred years: and that although  
They be abhorred, wheresoever they go,  
They have upon them, still, the mark of Cain,  
Which will prevent their being wh●lly stain;  
Lest (as the blessed Psalmist hath foretold)  
The People of the Lord▪ forget it should.  
Yet, nor their good Examples▪ nor their Fall,  
Nor all their Blessings, nor their Sorrow●s all,  
Have bettered thee: but, thou continu'st in  
Their obstinacies, and in all their s●n.  
Like them thou murmurest, if God, but to try thee,  
Some blessing, for a little time deny thee,  
So, thou dost wanton it, as soon as e'er,  
In any suffering, he thy voice doth hear●.  
So, thou Gods wholesome counsel dost despise,  
To follow thi●e own foolish Policies.  
So, thou dost mix thyself with other N●tions,  
And, learn to practise their abominations.  
So, on those broken Reeds thou dost rely,  
Which will deceive, in thy necessity.  
So, thou dost stop thine cares (to thine own harm)  
Although the Charmer ne'er so wisely charm.  
That which thy Prophets teach, and well advise;  
Just so, thou dost neglect; just so, despise:  
Yea, though from time to time, thou seest the path  
Which ●hou dost follow, ill successes hath:  
Though thou hast found, that they who did foretell  
Thy course was foolish, did forewarn thee well:  
Though thou dost find, no rest, nor peace, in that,  
Which thou art yet unwisely aiming at:  
And, though thy truest Lovers, every day,  
Do counsel thee, and for thy safety pray;  
Thou runnest headlong, still, thy wilful cou●se,  
And vaxest every moment, worse and worse.  
Thy eyes are blinded, and thou canst not see;  
Thy heart is hard, and will not softened be.  
To thy best Friends thou showst thyself a Foe,  
As if, thou ripened wert, for overthrow:  
And, till God please to turn thy heart again,  
All, that speak truth to thee, shall speak in vain.  
Whence do thy troubles, and thy losses come,  
But, from thy carnal policies, and from  
Thine own vain projects, which thou dost pursue,  
By courses, that will still thy cares renew?  
What gain thy children, by their of● alliance  
With Babel's issue, or by their affiance,  
But mongrel offsprings; which will ready be,  
To stir up everlasting strifes in thee?  
Though thou hast heard, the Midianites do give  
Their daughters to no end, but to deceive;  
And that the people who to Moloch pray,  
Will for their Idol, cast their sons away:  
Though thou hast heard what plagues ensued upon  
The wiving of the wise King Solomon;  
And knowest that by God, forbid it was,  
A Bullock should be yoked with an Ass:  
Though thou hast seen that their affinities  
Are even, among themselves, poor slender ties;  
And such as they do nought at all respect,  
Unless they serve their projects to ●ffect:  
Yet, in their course, thy Children do proceed,  
And sow God's Garden with a mixed s●ed:  
O● which, unless they truly do repent,  
And s●eke, by carefell tillage to prevent,  
What may ensue thereon (as yet they may)  
Thy Land will suffer for't, another day.  
T●y Guiltiness (oh! Britain) makes thee fear,  
And often troubled where no terrors are.  
Thy faith hath failed thee, and thou didst not see  
Those armies, which have round enclosed thee  
For thy protection. For, had they been heeded,  
Thou no Egyptian succours shouldst have needed.  
If thou couldst walk within a constant p●th,  
This Island should not fear Iberi●'s wrath.  
It should be needless for thee, to procure  
Alliances, that cannot long ●ndure.  
Thou shouldst not care (but, as t●ey Christian● be)  
What Kings on earth, were friends, or foes to thee.  
No power abroad, should make thy children tremble;  
Nor homebred faction cause thee to dissemble:  
But, being safe in God, thou shouldst contemn  
The greatest dangers, and get praise by them▪  
Oh! call to mind, the times now passed away▪  
Those, which our Fathers, yet, remember may;  
And let thine Elders tell thee (for they know)  
How strong in God's protection thou didst grow.  
What ●antedst thou, when thou we●t all alone?  
When thou hadst nothing to rely upon,  
But God's mere mercy? and such grace bestown,  
That thou couldst use those powers that were thine own?  
When blest Eliza wore but half thy Crown,  
And, almost all the world, on her did frown;  
When Rome's proud Bishop; and, of Christendom  
The pow'●fulst Monarch, did her foes become.  
When ●he had no Alliance, to make strong  
Her party: but, wa● hateful grown, among  
The neighbouring Princes; for her casting by  
The yoke of babylonish tyranny.  
When she within her Kingdom had a swarm  
Of Hornets, which did hourly threaten harm  
Both to her State and person. When their power  
And fury, w●● more likely to devour,  
Then at this present it appears to be.  
When her own Court from traitors was not free,  
When she had Irish Rebels to correct;  
Oppressed Netherlanders to protect;  
And France to umpire in: even when all these,  
And other troubles did her State disease.  
What glory, wealth, and safety ha●● t●ou got,  
That she, amid those dangers, purchased no●?  
Religion in her days did still en●re●se;  
At home she had bo●h plentiousne●se and peace;  
Abroad, ●he was renow●'d: she did not pause  
In executing o● her wholesome Laws,  
Through fear o● any Malcontents at home;  
Or any threatenings from the Sea of Rome.  
She triple Geri●ns forces did con●emne;  
Her neighbours sought h●r aid; she sought not them.  
She awed the West: she from the Spanish Coast  
Did rend their golden-fl●eces; and she crossed  
Their hopefullest aims. They could not undermine  
He● Counsels; nor by any sly design,  
Defeat her Forces: Fr●nce was prudent then,  
And would not stir the wrath of Englishmen:  
For, they preserved their honour, by preserving  
Their trust in God; and coastan p●●hs observing.  
Then, to affront us, did no D●●chman dare,  
Nor, in ou● Voyages presume to sh●re,  
But, with our favour. We had ●ame by land;  
O●r powerful Navies did the Seas command.  
To ours, the strongest Fleets did strike their sails;  
They, that now bark; then, d●r'd not w●g their tails▪  
Yea, ●hough our Lions not so many were,  
Our strongest Fo●, to ●ouze them, sto●d in fear.  
No son of thine presumed, then, to be  
So traitorous unto thy God, and thee,  
As to allow a popish Liberty:  
Much less to move, ●or that impiety,  
In public hearing. No man sought to sell,  
For any sum, the peace of Israel:  
No no● within ou● Ir●sh●onfin●s ●onfin●s; though  
It somewhat urgent seemed to have it so:  
Because that peaceful power thou hadst not got,  
Which now thou hast: nor, then, the neighbouring Scot  
So firm unto thy State; nor so engaged  
To tame that Nation, if a war it waged.  
Thy Patriots perceived, that to begin  
With Ireland, would become the means to win  
Great Britain to the Romish yoke anew;  
And, give the Spaniard courage, to pursue  
His great design upon the British nations.  
They saw what civil broils their Tolerations  
Have bred in France. For, if within her womb,  
Rebecca could not but diseased become,  
(Whilst she, at once, two sons did nourish there,  
Which Fathers of unlike Religions w●re)  
They thought, that if one Kingdom should admit  
Two such Conceptions, to grow ●ipe in it,  
They ●ould, by daily struggling with each other,  
Afflict the body o● their natural Mother;  
And, cause an endless Warfare, until one  
Were settled in possession, all alone.  
Thou didst not then, within t●y Bounds afford  
An Altar b●th to Baal▪ and to the Lord.  
What thou resolv'dst, was put in execution;  
Thy zeal was chilled with no irresolution.  
No haltings were appa●a●●. No disunion  
Did hazard (though it troubled) thy Communion:  
And, though thy many follies brought afflictions,  
(Which, of tho●e errors, were the due corrections)  
Yet, was thy faith in God, l●sse violated:  
Apparent evils not so palliated:  
Profaneness, not so patronised, as now:  
Nor didst thou such impieties allow.  
But, th●u art changed from what once thou w●r●;  
Thy worse hath overcome thy better part.  
Upon thin● own distempers thou art ●ost:  
Thy confidence in God is almost l●st.  
And, thence it comes, that though thou dost abound  
In many blessings▪ thou art needy found.  
This makes Transgressions to increase upon thee;  
They bring new troubles, and new dangers on thee;  
These make thee fear; thy terror causes thee  
Impatient of thy feared harms to be:  
Impatience makes thee so unfit to stay  
God's leisure; that, thou runnest another way,  
And seekest for help in thine own Fantasies,  
In fleshly Leagues, and humane Policies.  
Those courses overwhelm thee with new sins:  
From them, another b●ood of Plague's begins,  
Whi●● doth not mollify, but more obdure  
Thy flinty breast: and will at last procure  
Thy towall overthrow; unless thou climb  
The hill of hea●ty Penitence, in time.  
Grown fat with case, & wealth, thou hast forsaken  
Thy God; and many crooked courses took.  
God, who did thee so love, and so esteem;  
Who did create thee, and thy life redeem;  
Thou hast forgotten: yea, rejected him,  
And, sought those gods, thy Father did contemn  
His Counsels, and his law, thou hast despised;  
Na●, unto Devils, thou has● sacrificed;  
And, them and t●ine own ●ust●, preferred before  
His honour, whom ●hou shouldst have prized more.  
The corn, and oil● & wine which thou enjoyedst  
As tokens of his love, thou mis●imployedst.  
The jewel● he vouchsafed to adorn thee,  
(For his own pleasure) thou on those th●t scorn thee  
Bestowst again▪ The beauty which he gave,  
That he the more delight in the● might have▪  
Thou ba●ely p●ostitutest unto those  
That a●e thy lustful wooer's, and his foes▪  
Thy Vines like ●●ose of Sodom are become,  
Even like those plants, that are derived from  
Gommorrah's Vineyard; and their Clusters all  
Ar● sour; or else, more bitter, far, than gall.  
Thy Wi●e is Dragon's poison: yea, thou hast  
In all thy pleasant things, a loathsome taste.  
But, thus in gross, why should I l●nger sp●nd  
My time, thy wickedness to reprehend?  
Since thou art impudent, and hast the face,  
To make of the●e upbraid my disgrace?  
In my next Cantos therefore, I'll prefer  
Of thy Transgressions a PERTICULER,  
So du●y urged; that none shall justly say  
I utter what I should not open lay:  
Or th●● my Verse doth brand t●ee with a crime,  
Whereof their lives not witness all this time.  
Observe it; and if ought I mention here,  
N●t fitly spoken t● the public ●are;  
O● if, but in a word, I wrong thee shall;  
Me to the most impartial censure call▪  
L●t my good purposes be punished more,  
And pitied▪ also less than heretofore.  
L●t me of all thy children be reviled;  
Fro● thy most pleasant Borders live exiled:  
And n●ver be recalled. But, if I tell  
What thy best Lovers shall approve of well.  
I● Truth I utter; and such Truth as is  
To be disclosed: then ma●ke what's found amiss.  
Amend thine errors▪ Le● thy folly cease.  
Love him, that loves unfeignedly thy peace.  
At least, despite him not. But, if thou do,  
Yet he will serve thee still, and love th●e too:  
Thy welfare rather than his own prefer:  
And, leave this Bo●ke for thy REMEMBRANCER.   

The sixth Canto.  

The Poet (weighing w●ll his War●ant)  
Goes on with his enjoined Arrant.  
Impartially he doth relate  
This Iland● good and bad estate.  
What several sins in her have place;  
How gross they are; how they ●ncr●ase,  
He also t●ls: and, than he sn●w●s  
That nor the Gentiles, nor the jews,  
We●e ch●ck'd, or plagued for any Crimes,  
Which are not reigning in th●se times.  
N●xt ●hat, he boldly doth reprove  
●he course in which ou● Nobles●ove ●ove;  
Derides their folly, blames th●ir sin,  
And warns what dan●ers we are in.  
Ou● G●ntry than he reprehends;  
Their foolish humours dis●●n m●nds;  
And (having brought them to their sights)  
Upon the guilty Clergy lights;  
On Lawyers that abuse the Laws,  
On Officers, and on the Cause  
Of most Corruptions: Last of all  
On some enormities doth fall  
Which are in Court and City found;  
And runs this Canto, there, aground.   
But, am I well advised? and do I know  
From whence, & from what Spirit this doth flow?  
Do I remember what, and who I am,  
That I this famous Monarchy should blame?  
Am I assured no ill-suggesting Spirit  
(In hatred of thine honourable merit)  
Seduceth me (oh Britain) that I might  
Become an instrument of his despite?  
Have I considered of what esteem  
Thou art? How great thy Piety doth seem?  
What glorious titles, and transcendent styles  
Thou ●ast obtained above all other Isles?  
What attributes unto thyself thou givest?  
What of thine own perfections thou believest?  
And what thy fl●ttri●g Priests and Prophets say  
O● thy admired happ●nesse this day?  
Yes, yes; all this I pondered, and I know  
What g●o● or evil ●rom this act may flow.  
I am not ignorant, th●t thou hast been  
Among the neighbouring Countries as a Queen,  
Among ●er Ladies▪ Fo●mes of Government,  
O● Laws, or Custom●s through Earth's Continent,  
A●e no●e ●eceived that more pious be,  
Or mo●e upright then those t●at are in thee.  
Among fai●e Zions Daughter●, none doth sit  
M●●e free f●om blemishes (the● t●ou art yet)  
In points of Christian Doctrine (though there are  
Some, who that simpleness begin to mar)  
No people doth retain a Discipline  
More Apostolical, ●hen some of thine.  
No Church that's visible, hath kept more pure  
The grounds of Faith, nor countenanced fewer  
Of Rome's innumerable Superstiti●●s;  
Of useless, ●r of burdensome Traditions,  
Then thou ha●t lately done. I feel thou hast  
Some warmth yet left. As yet, so brazen-faced  
Thou ●rt not grown, but that thou dost despise  
Notorious C●imes, and open Heresies;  
Because the hidden Leaven of t●y sin  
To sour the Lump, is (yet) but new put in.  
I●le do thee right, and give thee all thy due,  
Before thy follies further I pursue.  
I know that thou with patience heretofore  
(Even like the Church at Ephesus) hast bo●e  
Thy Christian Labours; t●at, thou hast been moved  
Against offenders; that, thou such hast proved,  
Who falsely did affirm themselves to be  
Apostles; and, strong ●aith was found in thee.  
Yea, ●hou didst long those heresies resist,  
Which God abhorreth; and ●idst th●m detest.  
I know▪ that like the Smyrnian Congregation  
Thou h●st through poverty and tribulation,  
Got heavenly Riches: neither didst thou fear,  
When they, who of the Church of Satan were,  
Blasphemed the Truth, and did themselves profess  
True Isra'lites, when they were nothing less.  
I know, that when ●hy Lott it was to dwell  
Like Pergamus, even where the throne of Hell  
Erected was (and in their bloody Reign,  
By whom so many Martyrs here were slain)  
Thou didst not then the Faith of Christ deny,  
Not from professing of his Gospel fly.  
I know, that Thyatira-like thy love,  
And t●y devotion did unfeigned prove;  
And that thy piety, and righteousness,  
Did (for a season) more and more increase.  
I know, thy goodness i● not quite bereft,  
But that (like Sardis) thou some Names hast left  
That walk with Christ, from all pollution free,  
In those white Garments that unspotted be.  
I know, that like the Church of Philadelph,  
Thou hast a little strength within thy sel●e:  
God's word, and holy Sacraments yet are  
(As pledges of his love) preserved here.  
An● I do know, that, sin●e thou heretofore  
Didst love the Truth; God will his Grace restore,  
On thy repentance; and in all temptation  
Become thy sole-sufficient preservation;  
Yea make all them, who now false boasters be  
Of true Religion, to subscribe to thee;  
Confess he loves thee; and to thee hath given  
That City's title, th●t came down from heaven.  
But, much is, yet, amiss; and (to prevent  
Thy Ruin) I advise thee to repent.  
Remember (oh! remember th●u) from when●e  
Thou fallen ●rt; and seek by penitence  
To ●se again. Thy former works renew;  
Thy lately practised wickedness eschew;  
What th●u hast lost, endeavour to regain,  
Hold ●ast that Faith which yet thou dost retai●e;  
Awake, and use thine utmost powers, to cherish  
Those Graces, which in thee are like to perish.  
O●! do it speedily, whilst he doth knock  
Tha● ope● th● doo●e, which no man can unlock,  
And shuts, where none doth open: yea (lest he  
Come suddenly, and take away from thee  
Thy precious Candlestick) renew thy zeal;  
And unto him thy sin, betimes, reveal.  
Mark, to the Churches, what the Sp●rit saith;  
And purchase thou of Christ (by lively faith)  
To make thee rich, gold toyed in the fire.  
To hide thy filthy nakedness, desire  
The pure white ●●yment of his Righteousness.  
Thy former sight, tha● thou mayst repossess,  
His eye salve take: The conquest strive to get,  
That of the hidden Manna thou mayst eat;  
And g●ine the Stone inscribed with a Name,  
Which none can know, but he that weaves the same▪  
For, I must tell thee, thou art run astray,  
And (like a whorish wife) hast cast away  
Thy old affection: thy fi●st-love is gone,  
An● other friends thy heart hath doted on.  
Thou ●st not halfe that zeal, which thou hast boar  
To thy Redeemers honour heretofore;  
That simpleness, thou h●st not in thy works;  
Put, base dissembling in thine actions lurks.  
Some Doctrines also are in thee professed,  
Without reproof, which God doth much detest.  
Thou dost let go unpunished in thee,  
Those persons that notorious sinners be,  
And impudently wicked: thou mak'st light  
Of their misdeeds, in virtuous men's despite.  
Thou hast connived at those, who in the Land  
Have with an high, and an imperious hand  
(Like jezabel) oppressed, and bereaven  
Thou poor man's portion, in contempt of Heaven.  
Thou hast blasphemers, who d●e falsely say,  
That they are Catholics, (and none but they)  
Yet, if they heeded what their words imply,  
Their own Distinction giv●s themselves the Lye.  
The Babylonish Strumpet thou (as yet)  
Within ●●y territories dost permit▪  
Who doth s●duce God's people, and thy N●●ions;  
And make them drunken with her Fornications.  
Tho hast those Hypocrites that make a show  
Of zeal●●s hearts, when they are nothing so.  
T●ou hast those B●alamites▪ that in the way  
Of weak Professors, stumbling blocks do lay:  
And practice cunning slei●ht● o● policy,  
To bring thee b●●ke unto Idolatry.  
To trouble and distracted thee▪ they invent  
Strange qu●stions, doubtful, and impertinent.  
By needless proving, by their vain confuting●,  
By over nice distinctions, and disp●ting●,  
And by their multitudes of windy notions,  
They have so incorrupted thy devotions,  
So over whelmed thy Fait●; so tired out  
Thy knowledge, (with still running round about)  
That there is left but little care in thee,  
How much decayed thy good manners b●.  
Indeed, of thy lost Virtues, there's a Fame  
Remaining still; and thou hast yet a Name  
To be alive; but, some do greatly fear  
That thou art either d●●d▪ or very near.  
Though Laodicea like thou proudly vauntest,  
That rich thou art, and that thou nothing want'st:  
Though thou art h●ppy in thine own esteem,  
And dost to thine own s●lfe quicksighted seem:  
Yet, were thy judgement cleared, thou wouldst find  
That thou art wretched, naked, poor, and blind.  
Thou dost almost that lukewarm temper hold,  
Which neither can be termed hot, nor cold.  
Thy wickedness is (well near) grown as ripe,  
As hers, that served for thy Prototype.  
Nay, Gods great Volume mentions not a sin,  
Wherewith or place, o● person, taxed hath been,  
But thou hast practised it; and of thine own  
Host added others, to those times unknown.  
With our first Parents, there are some in thee▪  
Who strive to eat of God's forbidden tree;  
And have upon them such an itch to know  
Those t●ing● which he v●uchsafeth not to show:  
That, from their eyes true wisdom it hath hid,  
And more en●ang read them, than Ad●m did.  
Thou hast a brood of Cainites, that envies  
Their brother's better pleasing sacrifice;  
And pe●secut●s, and slanders, (what it may)  
All those that walk not in their wi●ked way:  
And th●rst with greediness to shed their blood,  
Who seek their safeties, and effect their good.  
There be, am●ng thee, some just like that Race,  
Who (being made the So●nes of God, by G●ace)  
Did with man's female issue fall in love;  
And these beget a mongrel brood, that prove  
The Giants of their times; and, those, that will  
The measure of the world's misdeeds fulfil.  
They (as those careless people did, on whom  
An universal Deluge once did come)  
Eat, drink, and take their pleasure, without care,  
How many or how great their follies are.  
And, though a judgement on their head is poured,  
They will not heed it, till they are devoured.  
As soon as any Pla●ue from us is gone,  
We build and plant, and in our sins run on:  
Or when (with Noah) blessings we have had,  
(In st●ad of being in God's favour glad)  
We do in some vain mi●th bewray our folly;  
I● drunken feastings, or in games unholy.  
Since out of beastly Sodom they were got,  
Thy Children have among themselves (like Lot)  
Committed much uncleanness; whence proceeds  
A Race, which discord in thy borders breeds.  
Like Laban, many wickedly detain  
The workman's hire; and make unlawful gain  
From their own Children. Some (with Isma●l)  
Are bitter mockers; some (with Esau) sell  
Their heavenly Birthrights: & for what d'ye think?  
For worse than porridge▪ even for smoke and slink.  
We hav● a● mighty Hunters (now adays)  
As Nimrod, and as wilful in their ways.  
Som●, of their brethren merchandizes make,  
Li●e jacobs Sons, and money for them take.  
With Simeon, and with Levi; some, pretend  
Religious cause; when for some other end  
They do project: and, m●●kes of holy zeal  
Do often bloody cruelties conceal.  
For wives, for wealth▪ and for our vai●e delights,  
We change Religion, like the Sichemites▪  
We have those judges, who will (judah-like)  
Their brother, for his fault severely strike;  
Deride, taunt, censure, and without compassion,  
To death condemn him, for the same transgression  
Which they are far more guilty o● than he:  
And, those the Plague-sores of this Island be.  
We have in either sex, of those that are  
As wicked as the wife of Potiphar.  
Even those, who so will slander, and accuse;  
If any to obey their lust refuse.  
Like Er and On●n, we have wicked heirs,  
Who rather would consume themselves, and theirs,  
In fruitless▪ vanities, than part from aught  
By which their brother's welfare might be wrought▪  
With Phar'oh, we Gods judgements do contemn▪  
And grow the bolder, and the worse by them.  
When he most plagued us, we most presumed;  
And sinned most, when we were most consumed.  
Nor ●lood, nor frogs, nor loathsome lice, nor flies,  
Nor murraines, biles, nor botches can suffice  
To make our Nations their bad lives reform;  
Nor Locusts, nor the leafe-devouring worm;  
Nor horrid darkness, liable to sense,  
Nor Hail, nor Thunders, nor the Pestilence;  
Nor bringing us to spring's that bitter are;  
Nor sweetening those things that unsav'ry were;  
Nor strange deliv'rances by sea and land;  
Nor Gods protecting us with his own hand;  
Nor Quails, nor Manna, (blessings which be rare)  
Nor favours which more ordinary are:  
No, nor Gods dreadful Anger, nor his Love,  
Can our hard hearts unto repentance move;  
But, we (l●ke Aegyp●) in rebellion be,  
And, full as faithless as the jews, are we▪  
Among us, we have wealthy men, who may  
W●ole Groves dispend; yet on the Sabbath day  
They'll gather sticks. Even to the Devil, some  
With no less worthy sacrifices come,  
Then sons and daughters. For, what less do they  
Who them in wedlock wickedly betray  
To open Heretics? Or, they that make  
Their mar'ages, fo● wealth, and horror's sake,  
Without affection? And (I pray) what less  
Do they, who force their children to profess  
Unlawful trades? There be among us, living,  
Too many, that, even whilst the Law is giving,  
Do● set up golden-calves. Such men are they,  
Who in the Church, or on God's Holiday,  
Are plodding on the world; whilst they should bend  
Their ears to God, and on his will attend.  
We have (our best proceedings to withstand)  
A jannes', and ●amb●es in t●e Land,  
Who (by their sorceries) continue shall  
Some people of this Monarchy in thrall:  
Until a Plague (like Ae●ypts●owsinesse ●owsinesse)  
Shall make them God Almighty, power confess.  
Young Vadab● and A●●h●es, we have some,  
That with strange fires unto Go●s altars come:  
T●●ir dull devotions kindled are with sticks,  
And withered leaves of humane Rhetorics;  
They offer up to God, their vain Orations,  
Composed of Cli●bings, and Adnominations;  
Which he abhors; with all that frothy stuff,  
Of which this age hat● more than thrice enough.  
Our brothers by extortion we oppress:  
True stranger, (nay, our kin) are harbou●lesse;  
And those offence we have Patrons for,  
Which many Heathen people did abhor.  
With Miriam and with Laron, we have such,  
Who at their 〈…〉 preferment grudge;  
Hot spirits, troublesome to civil states;  
Like C●rah●nd ●nd his rude confederates.  
These argue mach for p●p'lar p●rities,  
And rail upo● all civil dignities;  
But▪ when they can attain the●, none speak louder  
In their de●ence; nor are there any prouder.  
We Gallants have mo●e impudent, then e'er,  
Young Z●nri, and his Caz●i did appear:  
And doubtless we have 〈◊〉 who ●●ve hidden  
Some Babylonish things which are forbidden.  
For all the Land much troubled we may see;  
And many think, it shall not quiet be,  
Till they be found. Reveal thou their transgressions,  
O Lord! and be thou praised in their confessions.  
We have, this day, amongst us, many a Bramble,  
That, like Abimelech, knows how to scramble  
Abov● their own deservings: and (though base  
Unworthy shrubs) durst arrogate a place  
More eminent, then dares the noblest Plant,  
Whereof the Mountain Libanus doth vaunt.  
By others virtues these ascend on high,  
And raise themselves to such authority,  
That our most noble Cedars are o're-topt;  
Our pleasant Figtrees, are b●scratcht and dropped▪  
Our Vines are shadowed, and unfruitful made;  
Our Olives robbed of that oil they had;  
Yea, all our forest and our garden trees,  
By their ambition, fruit, or honour, lose.  
Thou nourished haste, and fond doted on  
Those cunning Dalilahs', who having won  
Thy good respect, do practise how to spy  
Wherein the chiefest of our strength doth lie;  
That (having by their flatteries lulled asleep  
Those watchman's eyes that should our fortress keep)  
They may (unheeded) steal our power away,  
And to our greatest Foes our lives betray.  
Here want not such as Michah, who with ease  
Can make a new Religion when they please;  
Coin ●ormes of worship proper to their Sect;  
A private Church among themselves erect;  
Make Priests at their own pleasure; furnish them  
Even with their own new-fangled Teraphim;  
And preach abroad for good Divinity,  
The tumors of their windy fantasy:  
Nay, some of them far stranger things can do;  
For, they can make their gods, and eat them too.  
There be of us, as wilful Favourites  
Of wicked men, as were the Benjami●es;  
And, rather than we will deliver ●hem  
To feel the stroke of justice, who contemn  
The ways of goodness; we will hazardize  
Our peace, our fame, and our posterities.  
We have those Prophets, who (with Balam) know  
God's pleasure, and what way they ought to go:  
And, yet, will for preferment do their best,  
That they his plain revealed Will may wrest.  
And though they are, perhaps, ashamed to say  
Their minds in public, closely they'll betray  
The Lord's inheritance; and Scripture proof  
Infer for all things to their own behoof.  
If of the popular faction these become,  
And think some gain may be achieved from  
That side; God's word they will produce for those  
That would disloyally their King oppose:  
If by the Prince advantage may be had,  
Then, God himself an instrument is made  
To warrantize their claims; an●, Tyranny,  
Sh●ll proved be a lawful Monarchy.  
As rash as Iephth●, in our vows are we;  
As Ehu●s gift, such oft our presents be.  
In entertainments, some like jael are;  
And, in their compliments may well compare  
W●th bloody Ioa●: for, they make their table  
Become a snare: and (when most serviceable  
They do appear) unheeded, they unsheathe  
So●e fat●ll instrument, t●at wounds to death.  
Like old indulgent Eli, some connive  
At all the sins, in which the●r children live:  
Nay, glory in their lewdness; and maintain  
In them those follies, which they should restrain;  
Till their own shame, and their undoing follows,  
And their wild brood be tamed at the Gallows.  
Nor were the sons of Eli, heretofore  
More wanton at the Tabernacle door,  
Then some young Priests of ours; whom to correct,  
The Fathers of our Church so much neglect,  
That if they long connive as they have done,  
The glory of our Isr'el will be gone.  
Like those Philistians, whose advice it was  
To fix God's Ark, and Dagon, in one place,  
We have too many; and, they cannot see,  
Why God and Baal in one, should not agree.  
But, when they raise their Idol in these Lands,  
Lord, let it fall, and lose both head and hands.  
We are as curious as the B●thsh●mites,  
And long as much to see forbidden sights:  
Like those of Ekron, we profess to know  
The truest Go●, and whence our troubles grow:  
Yet, are so stupid, that we slight his Grace,  
And, send him from us, to another place.  
Yea, like the Gadarens, we for our Sw●ne,  
Would banish Christ, and slight his love divine:  
Wi●h Saul, we do neglect what should be done▪  
And sacrifice, when God requireth none.  
Fat Sheep and Oxen were prefer before  
Obedience to the Lord; and follow more  
Our wills then his. When God saith kill, we spare,  
And where he bi●s, be kind, we cruel are.  
No love, no kindness, no sincerity,  
No tokens of unfeigned piety  
Can stay our furies, or divert our mind.  
When we are once maliciously inclined.  
Goliath like, God's army some contemn;  
With R●bsh●k●h, some others do blaspheme;  
Some curse (w●th Shimei) God's best beloved;  
As causelessly, to ●rieve them they are moved,  
And are of gain as greedy. For, if they  
Have but an us●●sse Groom escaped away,  
(O● lost a beast) for such a petty prize,  
They will not stick their l●ves to hazardize.  
We have those Michols, which will scoff & flou●  
At such as are mo●● zealously devout.  
We have those doglike Doegs' in our Courts,  
That gladly hear and utter all reports,  
To disadvantage them, whose ways a●e pure,  
And cannot their impieties endure.  
We have those Nabals, upon whom all cost,  
All curtefies, and kindnesses a●e lost.  
We have (like Vzzah) those that dare to touch  
Gods holy Ark. Nay, we have worse than such,  
Even those that rob it; and themselves adorn  
With jewels, from the Sanctuary torn.  
With David, some have thought their sins to hide▪  
And, their Adulteries, in Murder died.  
Officious knaves (like Ziba) we have some,  
Who by their Master's falls, to greatness come;  
And (though they did men innocent betray)  
Without reproving, they do pass away.  
We have those wicked A●mons, who defile  
Their sisters. And, to lay a cunning wile  
For helping their companions to a drab,  
We have more subtle Bawds than ●onadab.  
Those disobedient Absoloms there be  
Among us ●ere●t at wish and seek to see  
Their Parent's death's; like him they can conceal  
Their ends, till they (by fair dissembling) steal  
men's hea●ts away; and then abuse them so,  
That all seems just and honest which they do.  
We have Achitophel's, that are a● wise  
Against God's honour, projects to devise,  
As if the Delphian Oracle were sought:  
But, still in their own pitfalls they are caught.  
For, he that honest purposes doth bless,  
Converts their wisdom into foolishness.  
We have with Solomon (though none so wise)  
Men won by women to Idolatries.  
With jeroboam, we have those who strive  
A settled temporal fortune to contrive  
By ruining Religion; and to win  
An outward peace, by tolerating sin:  
Not heeding, that a greatness so procured,  
Hath seldom to a third descent endured.  
To serve an Idol we like him proceed,  
Although God's Messengers reprove the deed.  
And though our arm be withered, for our sin,  
Our obstinacies we continue in.  
We want not Re●oboams Counsellors,  
Whose unexperienced Policy prefers  
H●rsh courses, rather than a calm proceeding;  
When times are troublesome, & dangers breeding.  
We have (with Ahab) those who covet so  
Their neighbour's Vineyard, that they f●llen grow,  
And can nor eat, nor sleep, till they may plot,  
How their ungodly longings may be got:  
And we have jezabels enough, to further  
Their claims by slanders, perjury, and murder.  
Nor want such Elders, and such Nobles here,  
As those that Citizens with Naboth were.  
For should (as God forbid) our hopeful King,  
Desire to compass any lawless thing,  
Or seek his loyal Subjects to bereave  
Of what their Ancestors to them did leave:  
We have of those (I doubt) that would effect it  
According to their power: nay, project it,  
And urge him, and persuade him, that (of right)  
He overthrew their lawful freedoms might.  
We have of those (I fear) that would command  
A Fast (like Iez●bels) throughout the Land,  
And underneath a mask of Piety,  
Proceed to practise any Villainy,  
Which might advance their greatness: and, I doubt  
Some Priests would help to set the project out.  
Yea, we those Iud●es, and those Elders have,  
That if a man his neighbour's Vineyard crave,  
He need not, for his purpose, name the King,  
Or Letters from the royal Signet bring  
To move the same: Nor were it necessary  
That (to corrupt them) he Epistles carry  
From some great Lords. For, if he can but make  
The tongues of golden Angels for him speak;  
Or get some one, on his behalf to write,  
That is but servant to a Favourite;  
The deed is done: and they will feel no sense  
Of others griefs▪ or o● their own offence.  
We have such Prophet's a● Zidkiah was,  
Who are no whit ashamed, in public place,  
To speak fal●e messages; and those to smite,  
Tha● in God's name have spoken what is right.  
We have Gehezies'; fellows that will take  
Unlawful bribes▪ even those who sale do make  
Of what their Master's should have, gratis, done;  
And force out fees, where they can challenge none.  
Gehezies' did I call this crew? I fear  
I wrong the Leper: for his brib'ri●s were  
Put petty pillages, to those rich preys,  
On which some one of these his fingers lays.  
He asked, and had a willing gratulation,  
From one both rich, and of another Nation:  
●ut, these extort, compels, and stil● serve  
unjust demandings, as a lawful due.  
From friends, from strangers, from both poor & rich  
Their fingers to be scraping have an itch.  
For making their poor suitor, wait and pray,  
(When they might have dispatched him) he must pay.  
For surly speeches, and for proud neglect,  
They must be humoured with all respect.  
When to their ●lient, they a wrong have done,  
He must not seem to know or think ●hereon;  
But, fain all noble thoughts of them to have,  
Or, in some other persons call them knave▪  
And bribe them still, in hope they may be won,  
Yet, at the last, be cheated and undone.  
We have among us, men as very fools  
As Na'man was; who think Damascus' pools  
A● good as jordan: and (like him) at home  
Some serve one God; and when to Court they come,  
Profess another. We have those that be  
As trustless of God's promises, as he,  
Who in Samar●a●s gate was trodden on:  
These may behold the favours which are done  
To faithful men; but, till they can believe,  
They shall not taste what blessings those receive.  
Here be like Haz'el, those who seem to hate  
All tyrannising, in their low estate;  
Yet, being once promoted, throw aside  
All pity; and all piety deride.  
Yea, that which formerly they did condemn,  
(As vilifying, and debasing them,  
Below a Dog's condition) they allow,  
When to their height of greatness once they grow.  
(If none yet live) we had in former time,  
Even those that guilty were of Zimries' c●ime.  
Most Officers like jehu, do begin  
Good reformation, at first entering in;  
Their violent Zeal doth seem to say, Come see,  
How just in our proceedings we will be.  
But, oft they prove mee●e Hypocrites, who having  
Acquired meane● to colour their deceiving,  
Surpass the worst; and by degrees proceed,  
Till they appear the men they were indeed.  
Like wicked Haman; some, unless they may  
Insult and trample on poor Mordecai,  
Are so distempered by their haughty mind,  
That they nor pleasure, nor contentment find,  
In honours, riches, or in any blessing,  
Which they already have in their possessing:  
But, will pursue, and ruin, if they can,  
Whole Kingdoms, for their malice to one Man.  
As p●oud are we as Nebuch●dnezar:  
In feastings, as profuse as Bal●hazar,  
And as profane as he. We sometime seek  
The god of akron, Abaziah like.  
Like Amiziah (an informing Priest  
Of Bethel) we have those that will resist  
God's Messengers; and would not hear them bring  
Into the Court or Chapel of the King▪  
The sound of that reproo●e or punishment,  
Which to pronounce among us th●y we●e sent:  
And, these, perhaps, wh●n they my Errand see,  
Will prove as busy as that Priest with me.  
But, if they do (as Amos sa●d to him)  
Although I be no Prophet, nor of them  
That are the sons of Prophets; God doth know  
He called me to thi● (which now I do)  
From viler actions, then from gathering fruit,  
Or following herds: And I will make pursuit  
Of what he b●ds me; though opposed I stand,  
By all the Priests and Prelates in the Land.  
And if they contradict, what well is done  
Their heads, at last, the sh●me shall light upon.  
Some courtier's now, like daniel's foes, there are,  
That will object as things piacular,  
The truest Piety; and s●eke to bring  
Even those to be suspected of the King,  
Who strive most loyally, to keep his Name  
In honour; and his Kingdom without blame.  
As judah had (in Zephaniahs' times)  
Her Priests of Baal; the name of Chemarims;  
Those, who the heavenly army did adore;  
Those also, who by God, and Mal●●om, swore;  
And multitudes among them, who did wear  
Fantastic Habits: So, we harbour here  
Some Shavelings yet; some Romish superstitions;  
To Saints we offer up some vain petitions;  
Equivocating Oaths we often take;  
And, we ourselves, in our apparel, make  
Deformed, by a skittish imitation  
Of every newfound guise, in every Nation.  
I do not think (nor have I ever thought)  
That in itself it is material aught,  
What shaped Robes I wear: nor do I hold  
That any Fashion, whether new or old,  
Doth so much handsome or disfigure any,  
As it may seem to do, perchance, to many.  
It is the Time, or else their minds, that wear  
Such clothes, which make them good or bad appear.  
Those fools who bring new fashions first; and they  
That hast to follow them (and think it gay  
And generous) are those unworthy ones,  
That bring such folly, shame, and cost upon's.  
But, when those Garbs grow general; then, we  
That first abhorred them, compelled be  
To take them up: lest our old clothes be thought  
New fashions from some foreign kingdoms brought:  
Or, lest we should by some be thought to err,  
In being over nice, and singular.  
Most other people, both at home, and here,  
Do in their habits, like themselves appear:  
But, wheresoever we come, we change our shapes,  
And, in our gestures, are all N●tions Apes.  
True gravity, we so are fallen from,  
And, so absurdly blockish are become;  
That, strangers jeer us, to behold how soon  
We get the garb of every fond Baboon.  
Yea, they are proud, to see that we condemn  
Ou● o●ne attires, by imitating them.  
And I do blush to think, that our whole Nation  
Should of itself admit a transformation,  
So suddenly (as oftentimes we see)  
To imitate the guise of two or three.  
But, so it is: And at this present ti●e,  
Our female Gentry is so frenchified;  
That we have scarce a Gentlewoman now,  
In clothes, more handsome bodied then a Cow.  
Those women who e'er while were goodly creatures,  
Proportion having, and (me thought) sweet features;  
Do look as triple-bodied Geryon did,  
When they in their misshapen gowns are hid:  
For, either arm, in such a mould is cast,  
As makes it full as fulsome as their waste.  
Their necks stand sneaking out, before those rusts,  
Which lie behind their backs with wide mouthed puss  
As doth a peeled Ewes, whose fleece unshorn,  
Was from about her neck with brambles torn.  
Their flaring curls about their shag-shorne brows,  
Do, of the fairest Lady, make a blouse.  
Those demy-skarfes, they wreath about their chaps,  
(Which may be comely to some● eyes, perhaps)  
Do make them seem as Anticklike to me,  
As Hag●, that sent to fright young children be.  
And I am sorry, that a foolish pride  
Should make our Beauties their perfections hide  
In such a masking suit. And that a few  
Fantastic women, so great numbers drew  
To follow their newfangles; and besot  
Their judgements, by that fashion newly got.  
For, not mean wits alone; but, of the wisest;  
(Nay, of the most religious, and precisest)  
There are great multitudes befooled in this:  
And, She, that of that Guise their Pattern is,  
(Perhaps) derides their fickleness. For she  
Is from their mind, and from their folly free.  
Nought, but her country fashion, she hath worn:  
And, that which them deforms, do●h her adorn.  
Yea, they have either miss o● her dress:  
Or else she gives it much more loveliness,  
For to my eye there is some excellence  
Which puts twixt her and th●m much difference▪  
And this opinion is not mine alone:  
For▪ so much hath been said by many a one.  
Oh! show the sweetness of your disposition,  
In hearing me, and granting my petition.  
Lay off your strange attires, that we may know  
If you be Englishwomen, yea or no.  
Your monstrous habit, each true Britain loathes;  
And, were your bodies form like your clothes,  
(Which, God in justice, may effect, perchance)  
You might go seek your fortunes out in France,  
From whence your new proportion hither came:  
For, we shall never truly love the same.  
Because, if other men have thoughts like mine,  
It would appear to be some fatal sign,  
To see our women leave th●ir native fashion,  
And, turn themselves into another Nation.  
But, let these Females go I hope that she  
Who shall be mine (if any such the●e be)  
What ever accident or change befalls,  
Will still retain her English naturals.  
More bl●me than this might in this kind be laid  
On women: but, unwillingly I said  
What here is uttered. And, if they had been  
In those attires that I have seen them in,  
I had not on this oversight reflected;  
But, left them to be counselled and directed  
By their near Friends or Husbands. Yet, ala●!  
We have of them, whose levity doth pass  
The fickleness of these: and, they alone  
Are oft the cause, that th●se have so misgone.  
Nor ever did this folly more appear,  
Then now it doth; even in this very year,  
Where●n the Pestilence devoured so:  
And, as that Plague decreased, this did grow.  
But, in Transgressions, how we parallel  
The times before, I will proceed to tell.  
Highpriest have we, who send ou● spies to watch  
T●e Preachers of God's word; and pick, and catch  
Advantages against th●m. Some of us  
Are like the Silversmiths at Ephesus,  
And, for their private lucre will contend  
Against the Truth, and Heresies defend.  
We, Demas like, have those Apostates,  
Who, for the world, forsake the Christian cause.  
And, some there be, that with Diotrophes,  
Affect pre-eminence in these our days.  
Some, like the Scribes and pharisees do rinse  
The Cup without; but, have no care to cleanse  
The loathsome inside. Some, have arrogated  
Such Holiness, that they are separated  
From others, as a spotless Congregation,  
That is without all blame, or profanation.  
Some, like to those, their Brethren disrespect:  
And, lo●dly titles overmuch affect,  
As did the jewish Rabbis. Some, as they  
On others backs uneasy burdens lay:  
Which they themselves, to carry do refuse.  
The Orphan, and the Widow, some abuse,  
By shows of piety. And, we have some,  
In tything Aniseed, and Mint, become  
Exceeding zealous: yet, have neither care  
Nor conscience, in those things that weighty are.  
We have our several Brotherhoods of those,  
Who seriously do Sea and Land enclose,  
(And practise, by a multitude of sleights)  
To win unto their Sects new proselytes:  
Not out of love to Truth, or Charity,  
But ra●her to advance their Heresy.  
Who ever all their crotchets doth embrace,  
Is instantly become the child of Grace,  
(In their opinions) whatsoever he  
In other points, or in his manners be.  
Bu● whosoever he be that shall despise,  
One branch of any toy, which they devise,  
Is judged a Reprobate. Yea, though in all  
The grounds of Faith, and in his works he shall  
Appear unblemished; they will contemn  
His judgement; and traduce and censure him.  
Yea, some of those there be who have descried  
A trick to know who are unsanctifide;  
Though they have all the marks of holiness.  
Nay, some a●e not ashamed to confess,  
To know what persons those hid ma●ks do bear,  
W●ich known to no men but their wearers are.  
Like Ananias, and Saphira, here  
Are they that holy Brethren do● appear,  
Yet want sincerity. And, I could tell y●  
Of Multitudes, who merely for their belly,  
Do follow Christ. With Herod, we have such  
Who hear m●n gladly, till those Crimes they touch  
Which are their Darlings: But, then mad they grow,  
And what they truly are, they truly show.  
Like Dives, we have those that every day  
Are fed with dainties; clothed with rich array,  
And, full as merciless unto the poor,  
That lie unclothed, and hungry at the door.  
We have a rattle-brained and wilful Crew,  
That with a purblind zeal the Truth pursue:  
And would be found, were not their power so small,  
More bloody, and more violent th●n Paul,  
Before his name wa● c●anged: for, they tear  
That Robe, whereof they do profess a care.  
We have those Nobles, who with Felix, can  
Confess the innocency of a m●n  
Accused before them; and, yet leave him bound,  
If aught to their advantage may redound.  
We have of those that parcel Christians be,  
As King ●grippa. Othersome have we  
That walk for company, th●y care not whither;  
And, some that sleight Religion altogether.  
Nor want we those, that while th●y Christ profess,  
Convert his Graces into wantonness.  
We are almost as wicked as old Rome:  
Of Heresies we are as full become,  
As Amsterdam. Nay, many men have we,  
That can of three or ●oure profession● be,  
(Even all at once) although that every Sect  
Each other doth directly contradict.  
We have an Elimas, who doth apply  
His cunning to pervert the Deputy:  
Like Simon Magus, we have Merchants here,  
That were baptised; and yet without fear,  
Dare buy and sell those things that holy be;  
And which, by God's donation, s●ould be f●ee.  
Nay, in the gall of bitterness they lie,  
More deep than he, fr●m whom their Simony  
Deriveth name: for, he, in show, repenting,  
Did crave the Church's prayers for preventing  
Of his deserving: whereas, these devise  
Acquaint arguments▪ their sin to patronise;  
Or make it less. Else, by equivocation,  
Or, by ●heir trick of mental reservation,  
They hide thei● fault: and (that the s●n they do  
May grow complete) themselves they perjure too.  
There be, that Mammon, for their God, adore:  
That make Christ's members, members of a whore:  
And stained be with those offences all,  
Whereof the Gentiles were accused, by Paul.  
We all are guilty of much fraud, debate,  
Impiety, uncleanness, envy, hate,  
Backbiting, stealing, pride, maliciousness,  
Dissembling, murder, lying, spightfulness,  
Truce breaking, disobedience, ignorance,  
Implacability, bold arrogance,  
Want of affections natural, excess,  
Inhuman cruelty, ungratefulness:  
Blaspheming, swearing; and innumerable  
Transgressions more, of ●hat ungodly rabble:  
And, some (when God Almighty poured hath  
Upon their heads the Viols of his wrath)  
In stead of penitence, increase the score  
Of their offences; and, blaspheme the more.  
Nay, that we may be partners of thei● guilt,  
That have the blood of Gods Anointed spilt,  
With Pilate and the jews, we have, again,  
The Lord of Life, both crucified, an● slain.  
Thou hast, Oh Britain, every thing misdone,  
That Ashur, Moab, Ammon, Babylon,  
Or any Kingdom hath transgressed in,  
Which unto Piety a foe hath been.  
Of whatsoever Isr'el was detected,  
For whatsoever judah was corrected,  
Thou mayst be taxed; for, among thy Nation●  
Are daily practised their abominations.  
Their tricks thou hast, to hinder and oppress,  
Those men who tell thee of thy wickedness.  
Right so thou dost debase; so slander them:  
Right so, their just reproofs thou dost contemn:  
And, though their words are daily verifide,  
Yet, thou dost always wilfully deride  
Their admoni●ions; and, pass all things by,  
As falling on thee but by casualty.  
I do believe, and know, that, yet, in thee  
Some Obadiahs, and some Ezraes' be.  
Some Courtiers, and some Nobles yet remain,  
Which do their true Nobility retain:  
But, most of them their dignity have lost;  
And can of nought but painted Scuch●ons boast.  
As did of theirs, the jewish Prophet say,  
Thy Princes do procrassinate the day  
Or thy Calamity; and will not hear,  
O● that affliction which approacheth near:  
But, of Iniquity they climb the seat;  
And, by extortion make their house● great.  
Their Palaces, they seel and trim with gold,  
God's Temples being ruinously old.  
On beds (more precious then of Ivory)  
They stretch themselves, and live luxuriously.  
The pasture Lambs, and weanlings of the stall,  
Suffice not them; but they make prey of all.  
Which liveth in the wood, or in the field;  
Or which the land, the sea, or air doth yield.  
Their luscious wines in precious bowls they quaff●▪  
While joseph is afflicted, they do laugh;  
And sing unto the Viol, wanton strains,  
While Zion in captivity remains.  
They have but little care of God's commands;  
They break his yoke, and cast away his bands.  
Thy men in honour, without knowledge be,  
Like beasts that perish; and, dishonour th●e.  
Some have aspired to their present heights  
Of wealth and greatness, by ignoble sleights:  
Of others houses, they have got possession,  
And, furnished their chambers, by oppression.  
Their wives and children, waste in brave attire,  
The poor man's portion, and the workman's hire.  
Their credits they have pawned, to maintain  
Their luxury, their pride, or gaming vain.  
And, by their Honors●ave ●ave so falsely sworn.  
That men their Idol, and their oath do scorn.  
Some, have so blushless and so shameless been,  
To let their Coach, and foot-cloth horse, be seen  
At common Strumpets doors: their Favourites,  
(And they, in whom their Nobleness delights)  
A●e gamesters, roarers, persons dissolute,  
And such; for unto them such best do suit.  
To bold faced Rhymers, jesters, or to those  
Who make their Lordships laugh with foolish prose;  
To Fencer's, Fiddlers, Tumblers, and to such,  
Who any way their sensual humours touch,  
Their hands are prodigal; and these obtain  
Rich favours to requite their idle pain.  
Their tongues, to speak on their behalf are free;  
When questioned for the foulest c●imes they be.  
(Even felonies and murders) but a●e mutes  
In virtuous causes, and in honest suits.  
When wise and painful men, have spent their wealth,  
Their strength consumed, or impaired their health,  
In profitable works; and to reveal  
Such ●hings as might advance the public weal;  
Their labours (for the most) are overpast  
Without encouragement; sometimes, disgraced  
By arrogant impostors; who arise  
To greatness, by discrediting the wise;  
Or broaching such good projects for their own,  
Which were by those men's industry made known,  
Whom they have ruined. For, what were some  
(That now to places eminent are come)  
Before they got aloft on others wines,  
But poor unworthy, and ignoble things?  
Nay, what (as yet) appear they (unto those  
Whose good experience their true value knows)  
But gilded ignorance? who having got  
The shadows of the substance they have not,  
Do pass for men of worth, in their esteeming,  
Whom they have cheated, by a cunning seeming.  
Admit but some of the●e into such place,  
Which may afford them privilege or grace,  
To speak before their Prince; and you shall hear  
Their tongues to run, as if their knowledge were  
A● great as solomon's; and that of all  
The plants, even from the Hyssop of the wall,  
Unto the Cedar, they could tell the nature;  
And knew the qualities of every creature.  
They, Pro●eus like, will any thing appear;  
A Seaman, Shipwright, or an Engin●ere,  
Or what soe'er they list: and having bought  
Of some poor Artists; or (some worse way) wrought  
Their project from them, that they may be shown,  
As if the acquaint invention were their own:  
(And, having gotten also terms of Art,  
To help them in the acting of their part)  
To such opinion of themselves they rise,  
That men of soundest knowledge they despise;  
Deride experience; and, even to their face,  
The skill of most approved men disgrace.  
M●ke these men Counsellors, and though till then  
They knew not half so much as common men,  
Nor had the means of knowing any thing,  
But how to ride a horse, or take the Ring,  
Or hunt, or hawk, or caper: yet (behold  
A wonder) in a moment they grow old  
In State affairs; and nothing doth concern  
Or peace o● war, which they have need to learn.  
If any question be, before these, made,  
Of Merchandise; the skilfullest in the trade  
Are fools to them; and 'tis an arrogance  
To offer to instruct their ignorance.  
If arms be treated of, there's no man knows  
By practice, that which th●se men can disclose  
By contemplation. And though they have seen  
No other wars but those at Mile end green,  
Or Tutle-fields; great Mars himself, of these  
May learn to be a Soldier, if he please.  
If any thing concerning Navigation,  
Be tendered to a grave consideration,  
These either dare affirm, or to deny  
What all the Masters of the Trinity  
Oppose them in; and Nov●ces would make  
Of H●wkings, Frob●sh●r, and f●mous Dr●ke,  
Were they now living. And, y●t such a● they,  
The wreathes of Honour soon bear away.  
With empty Names, and Titles, b●ing ●lowne  
Above themselves, they are unwieldy grown;  
An● greater in their pride, and in their train,  
Then their consume● fortunes will maintain.  
Which doth compel them, by unworthy ways,  
To seek the patching up of their decays:  
And, still in their profuseness they proceed,  
As if thei● prodigality should breed  
New fortunes; and, were like those wells that fill,  
And grow the purer, by exhausting still.  
In feasts, apparel, furniture, and things  
Of such like nature, m●ny Christian Kings,  
To equal them shall find it much to do:  
But, them they cannot very far outgo,  
Unless they mean to drain their fountains dry,  
With Fools, in prodigality, to vie.  
Hence comes it, that the Rents and Royalties  
Of Kings and Princes, which did well suffice  
In former times, to keep in comely port  
An honoured, and an hospitable Cou●t,  
(Yea, and an Army if occasion were)  
Can hardly now the charge of household bear▪  
For, they must either in their large expense,  
Come short of that profuse magnificence  
Among thei● Vassals: o● else waste away  
The price of many Lordship's, to defray  
The cost of one vain supper; and, from this,  
With other such like things, grows all am●sse.  
For, one excess another still produces;  
One Fool outvies his fellow Fool's abuses;  
Vnt●ll their wealth, and hop●s, and reputation,  
Be wasted in a witness emulation:  
Not heeding what is taught them in the Fable,  
That when a Toad hath swelled while he enable,  
An Ox is bigger, and with ease can smite  
His pride to nothing when it is at height.  
This over la●ge profuseness, they are fain  
By many evil cou●ses to maintain:  
By bribery, by gripping, by the sale  
Of justice yea of Conscience, and of all  
That may be sold for money. From hence springs  
Deceiving, and mis-leading of good Kings.  
This makes their Treasuries to ebb so low;  
This, makes their Subjects discontented grow;  
This, makes the Me●chant, and the Tradesman, break;  
This, makes the arm of justice grow so weak;  
By this, are States unjointed, by degrees;  
By this, their honour and their love they lose;  
And, that confusion in upon them steals,  
Which ruins Nations, Kings, and Commonweals.  
From hence are all those rascal Suits derived,  
By which the common damage is contrived:  
Hence, they (who by the public desolation  
Would raise themselves) pretend the●reformation  
They purpose not: and, by their fair pretences  
To ●ure old grievances, breed new offence.  
Hence comes it, that to keep themselves on high,  
They sell their country, and posterity  
To slavery and bondage; ca●ing nought▪  
So they have rest, how dearly it be bought.  
This, makes the Gr●nts of Kings become so tickle,  
An● Order, and De●rees of State, s● sickle,  
T●at no man knows when he hath aught procured,  
How he, of w●at he hath may be assu●ed;  
For, in a righteous cause, though be proceed,  
A●d hav● it ratified and decreed,  
By all Authority that may be gained;  
A sleight suggestion (without reason f●ined)  
May ●●u●tr●t● make the Royall-confirmation,  
O● k●●p him in an endless expectation,  
Till he be quite undone. And, if his foes  
Have wealth▪ (though no good reasons to oppose  
His rightful cause) he may be wheeled ●bout,  
With Order, tha● will ●●tch him in and out,  
Till he be tired: and, neither side is sure  
O● conquest, till the other can procure  
No bribe to give. Which is more wicked far,  
Then thos● injustices which practised are  
In heathen Kingdoms: since, when any t●ere,  
For justice or Injustice bribed are;  
A man ●h●ll hav● his bargain. And in this  
More just they be then many a Christian is.  
For, when some here a●e forced for their own  
To give great fines, they afterward a●e thrown  
From their possessions if another come  
To buy Injustice with a larger sum.  
O●! what a madness is it, for one day  
On earth, to fool Eternity away?  
To sell both soul and body for mere toys;  
And r●all comforts, for deceiving joys?  
To build the●r house with mortar, which will burn  
The timber, and the structure overturn?  
Perchance before the finishing be done,  
But (doubtless) ere the third descent be gone?  
What folly is it for a man to waste  
At one vain triumph (which an hour doth last)  
Mo●e than the portion, ten and ten times told  
Which all his predecessors leave him could;  
That, to his prejudice it may be known,  
How hastily a ri●h man he is grown?  
What meaneth he, who doth consume upon  
One banquet, wh●t a town of Garrison  
Might live a year withal; to hear it spoken,  
That so much cost was but a certain token  
Of his corruption? And that all the store  
He wastes, was got by making ot●ers poor?  
Or that t●e greatness of his new gained glory,  
Is of the common wrong● a real story?  
Who praiseth him for this? or who doth call  
Him honourable, wise, o● l●berall.  
For those expenses; but ●he rascal rabble  
Of Coxcombs, and of G●lls, that haunt his table?  
What honour is it? or what can it please,  
To be the Lord of many Palaces?  
To have their Camber's, and their Galleries  
Adorned with most precious rarities?  
To feed, and cloth, and patronise a number  
Of Parasites, and of Buffoons, to cum●er  
Their w●lks and lodgings? To have every day  
Th●ir servants following them in rich array?  
Rich stuffs, with rich embroideries to bury,  
To ride on princely charets? or to hurry  
In gilt Caroches? or o● pampered Steeds,  
(From Turkey fetched, or from the Barbary breeds)  
To p●aance about the streets to show their pride?  
Or with vain titles to be magnified?  
What pleasure is all this, when they sh●ll hear,  
How loud the clamour sounds in every ear,  
Of their oppressions, ●rau●s, and cruelties?  
And how the people curse their tyrannies?  
Their state, and their ambition to maintain;  
How many, oh! how many to complain  
Conftrained are? Alas! how m●ny a one  
Have their proud followers tyrannised upon?  
And of their servants, what great numbers too,  
Do these by their ambitiousness undo?  
The faces of the poorer sort they grind;  
The bread of Orphans (who the while are pin●e)  
They feed upon. The people they have sold  
For oldworne shoes ● on Altars they lay hold;  
And, of each holy thing they m●ke their prey,  
Whereon their sacrilegious hands they lay.  
The portion of their brethren they devour;  
A●d, by usurping an unlawful power,  
They save each other harmless from the laws;  
And overthrow the poor complainants' cause.  
Their neighbours, often, and their nearest friends,  
(To who● they deign respect but for their ends)  
Are so engaged to uphold their pride,  
That they their foolish heads are fain to hide.  
Som● Tradesman, for their vain credulity,  
(In trusting to their Honours) now do lie  
Imprisoned for their aptness to believe:  
And, what they suffer, or how m●ch they grieve,  
Their Lordships care not: For (except their own)  
Of all men's troubles they are sens●lesse grown.  
Their houses, and their lodgings, every day▪  
Are full of Suitors, who as humbly pray  
Fo● what's their own, as if that they were some  
Who to entreat for charity were come:  
And oft are answered with such harsh replies,  
For their compelled importunities,  
As if it were an impudence or wrong,  
To ask the debt which had been ●ue so long.  
The Baker and the Butcher, sometime serve  
Great men with bread and flesh until they starve  
Themselves almost: and, if they doubt they shall  
Be quite undone before it so befall▪  
They oft a●e glad to lose the sum that's due,  
Through fear that for their own if they should sue,  
(In stead of recompense) receive they might  
Some evil turn, their boldness to requite.  
For, some are grown so base, that now and than  
Their Costermonger▪ yea their Butterman,  
And Herbwife is half beggared and undone,  
By suffering them upon their scores to run.  
Oh! with what faces can these Tyrants ride  
Along the streets, in such a h●ight of pride,  
As oft they do, when they are looked upon  
By those poor Tradesmen whom they have undone?  
What j●y have they to see, or to be s●ene  
In those gay feathers, which have plucked been  
From others wings; whose nakedn●sse appears  
To cry aloud for justice, in God's ears?  
And what a Plague is fallen on that L●nd  
Where such as these have places of command?  
Where t●ese are chose for Statesmen, what protecti●  
Is Virtue like to find? what due correction  
Hath Vice where such control? or what is he  
Can look for justice, where such judges be?  
Would I could say, oh! Britain, thou hast none  
Of these Or else might name thee such a one,  
As lawfully, as I might boldly do it,  
For thy advantage, were I called to it.  
But, that authority which I have got,  
Checks faults alone, with persons meddles not.  
Thy ancient Virtues are not wholly lost,  
In all thy families. Yet, ●or the most,  
As are thy Princes, now, thy Gentry be▪  
According to the height of their degree.  
They spend their youth in lust and idleness;  
In impudent profaneness, and excess;  
In foolish compliments; in thriftless games;  
And in oblivion do inter their Names:  
Through want of knowledge, and that real worth  
Which sets the lustre of true Gentry forth.  
The marks of Gentle-blood, and that which praise  
Did thereunto acquire, in fo●mer days,  
Were justice, Temperance, Courage, Prudency,  
True Curtsy, Meekness, Liberality,  
And such as these. Their Exercises were  
Those which the mind or body might prepare  
For virtuous practices: as leaping, running,  
To handle Arms, to shoot, to show their cunning  
In managing great Horse; in studiousness  
Of piety, and of the Sciences.  
Which we term liberal. But now, alas!  
Th● Gentry, Britain, is not as it was.  
To be a Gentlem●n, is now, to we●re  
Fantastic habits, horrid oaths to sweere;  
To w●ifte Tobacco; to be drunk, and game;  
To do a villainy, and boast the s●me.  
To dare the Pox; to talk with impudence▪  
How oft they had it, without grief or sense,  
Of their misdoings; nothing to pro●esse  
Or p●acti●e, but to live 〈◊〉;  
To quarrel; to be in●ole●t, and proud;  
To che●t, and brag, and lie, and speak aloud  
In stea● of ●p●aking reason: to presume  
Abov● his worth; unwisely to ●o●sume  
Hi● patrimony; fast and loose to play;  
To borrow▪ without purposing to pay;  
To spend their time in fruitless visitations,  
In beastly and profane communications;  
In telling and in liftning a●ter news;  
In viewing idle sights, or haunting Stews;  
With such like exercises: as if they  
Were made to flutter all their time away  
Like Butterflies, and lived, purposely,  
For nothing, but to eat, and drink, and dye.  
Their noblest mark, is di●ting a brace  
Ofhandsome Nags, to run a ●quitting Race.  
Or keeping of a cast of Norway Kites,  
To show them yearly half a dozen flights;  
Or else, the feeding of a stinking pack  
Of yelping Hounds; that when discourse they lack,  
They m●y whole d●yes together, pra●e a story,  
In which so●e Dogs, or Hauks, or Horse's glory  
●s magnified; and him they c●unt a Clown,  
That in their folly is no partner grown.  
Oh! wou●d these lines had po'wr to make them see,  
How foolish and absurd their cou●ses be:  
And that my Muses now could reach the strain,  
Might win them nobler thought to ente●ta●ne.  
But, mine will hardly prove such Charms, I fear;  
For, at t●e very root we rotten are;  
And, where our Maladies their cure should have,  
T●e dangerous infections we receive.  
Our Nurseries of Arts are not so pure,  
But th●t in them our bane we may pr●cu●e.  
Our Inn of Court have lost their good repute,  
By harboring of persons dissolute.  
The schools of Law are Sanctuaries made  
For Outlaws, and where once our Gentry had  
That nurture which ennobled them; now, ther●  
By lewd examples, which too frequent are,  
O●, by too great a liberty, we gain  
A habit in ●ll courses tha● are vain.  
A●d most of those, of whom the world believes  
Most good (among them) are but civil thiefs.  
For, Lawyers, and some Officers, in thee,  
(Which Ministers of justice seem● to be)  
Have made t●e Courts and Offices, whereby  
We should of wrongs receive a remedy;  
To prove to us things more uneasy, far,  
Then those, for which their just complain are.  
So costly b● their wild interpretations  
Of Laws and Customs; and such variation●  
Are found in their opinions, that few know  
When they uprightly, or in safety go.  
If any Common Ba●reter will please  
By suits unjust his neighbours to disease;  
The Plea may be maintained, though that all  
His allegations prove untrue they shall:  
Or manifest, ●y d●u●tlesse demonstration,  
He purposed naught but wilful molesfation.  
For, Lawy●rs will defend and plead the Cause,  
Which to their knowledge doth oppose both jaws  
And Conscience too; as if they did contemn  
His threatenings that pronounced woe to them,  
Who justify the wicked in their fin;  
Or him gainsay which hath not faulty been.  
Even in our Court of Conscience, some things are  
Unconscionable. For, if any here  
Be causelessly complained on well is he  
If uncondemned in the ●uit he be.  
For, this Defendant h●th small remedy,  
Save that, an● patience, for his injury.  
His causeless trou●l●s, and his large expense,  
Hath no requital save his innocence.  
For, if all they that are unjustly grieved,  
By h●●ing co●ts o● suits ●●ould be re●●ved;  
Or if the Plaintiff should his B●ll aver  
Upon his oath, as every Answerer  
Confirms his Answer, m●ny ● brawling Knive  
W●uld then be quiet, and that Court would have  
Far less employment: yea, and we●e it not  
Their Trave●ses did knit again the knot,  
W●ich Answers upon O●th, almost untie,  
Suits would not half so long unended lie.  
This, many Officers do seem to fear;  
And therefore (as if Courts erected were  
To m●ke them rich, by nourishing contention;  
Much rat●er then to co●passe the prevention  
Of wrongs and discord) they continue still,  
T●at cou●se w●ich brings most grists unto their mil.  
If I would m●ke a Libel, it should be  
By way of Suit: f●r, I did never see  
A scurrilous Rhyme or Pamphlet, so compact  
O● slanders (nor so cunningly derract)  
As do their than-lesse Bills, and their Replies,  
Who seek, th●t way, men's names to scandalise.  
They dare pretend (as if with warranty)  
Those things of which no probability  
Was ever seen. For, though they prove it no●,  
They kno● the very mention of a blot  
Doth leave a sta●n●; ●nd, that aspersions laid  
Supposedly, are often so conveyed,  
And so dispersed; a●d in disperting, will  
Such new additions g●the● to th●m s●●ll;  
That, at th● last (although most fal●e they were)  
For truth's, they told and heard, of ma●y, are.  
But, their I●tergatorie▪ have a trick  
Beyond all other L●b●dings, to stick  
An infamy on any: for, in those,  
O●●ll which they will causelessly suppose  
Within their Bills; they may the qu●st●on move,  
To whomsoever t●ey preten●● sh●ll prove  
Wh●t they object And, t●ough no proof be brought,  
N●y, though it never came within his thought,  
That is complained against▪ too do or say  
Those things which they object against him may:  
Yet, he th●t is examined, or he  
That ●eads what matters questioned of him be;  
Suspects, perhaps, (although he nothing knew  
Concerning them) that every thing is true  
W●ich their Intergat●ries do imply.  
For, why thinks ●e (that meaneth honestly)  
Should Propositions of these things be made,  
If they no likelihood of being ●ad?  
Or who (suppose●h he) hath so abhorred  
A mind, as to suggest, and on ●e●ord  
To leave aspersions (o● deserving blame)  
O● him, that no way merited the same?  
Yet, this is frequent: and this libelling  
Much profit to th●ir Common wealth doth bring,  
Who gain by others losses. And, there's none  
O● whom this mischief m●y not ●all upon.  
For ●ne example ●f suc● gross abuse,  
Myself I can, and justly may, produce.  
For, sitting lately in a room alone,  
My own occasions meditating on:  
Two men, who talking at the door had been,  
(And, as appeared, knowing me within)  
Ma●e entrance and besought me both to hear,  
(And witness) what they had agreed on th●re.  
I heard them; and, I purposed to do  
As they requi●ed, being called thereto.  
But, mark what ●ollow'd. Twelve months after that  
Th● one of these (not well content with what  
His bargain wa●; and knowing, I alone  
Could re●tifi● wh●t they agreed upon)  
Did i● this k●vish c●nn●ng wise project  
To make my wi●nesse take the less effect.  
Forsooth, ●e m●k●s me pa●ty in the cause;  
A pitiful complaining Bill he draws;  
Wherein his learned Counsel did devise  
Such Combinations, and Conspiracies,  
Such Plots, such Practices▪ and such large tal●s,  
Of Premises, of Bargai●i●gs▪ of Sales,  
And such like Heathrish ●●uffe: and his pretence,  
Was wo●ded out with so much impudence;  
T●at, surely, whosoever came to see  
That piece o● Chancery, supposed me  
A very cheating Rascal: or, tha● I  
(At least) was privy to some knavery;  
Whereas he knew, who then did so abuse me,  
I blameless was of w●at he did accuse me.  
Yea, then so far was I from any plot,  
Or purposed wrong; that I had quite forgot  
Both man and ma●ter: and, but for his Bill,  
Had been (I think) unmindful of them sti●l.  
A wrong like this, if any please, he may  
Inflict upon me every other day,  
With safe impunity. For, such as he,  
Entitled Am●●i Curiae be:  
And, many thousand fees would quite be lost,  
Were they▪ in such like suits, to bear the cost.  
If I should here disclose what I have seen,  
The practise of some Lawyers to have been;  
What cunning in conveyances they use,  
How strangely their Profession they abuse▪  
And what a glory to themselves they take,  
Wh●n they an evil cause to thrive can make:  
Or, should I he●e character their Delays,  
Their Errors, their Demurs, their many w●yes  
Of hindering justice; their impertinent  
And costly tedious Forms; their impudent  
Extorting from their Client's doubl● fees;  
For Motions, which they willingly d●e lose:  
How they do move by halves; how they mistake  
(Of purpose) for themselves, new wo●k to make;  
How oft their Orders have by procreation,  
Made up, almost, the hundreth generation;  
What double-tongued reports, for double fees,  
Are gotten by corrupted Referrees;  
(Who when the truth is plain, can coin a doubt  
To bring again the fals●st Cause about)  
How sense less of men's losses, griefs, or pain,  
They are in all things which concern their game;  
To what expenses they their Clients bring;  
How they do ride them in an endless Ring,  
And prey upon them: or, if here I should  
Disclose as evidently as I ●ould,  
How full of wicked bribes, their closerts be;  
What brutish cruelties mine eyes did see;  
How many honest Causes I have known,  
For want of prosecution, overthrown;  
Because our tedious f●rmes of trial, stretch  
Much further than the Clients purse can reach.  
How many miles poor men are forced to come,  
For trifling suits, w●ich might have end at home;  
But that our higher Co●rts more seek increase  
Of their base profits, then of blessed ●eace.  
Should I relate, wi●h what strange tyrannies  
Some Officers their places exercise;  
What partiality they show; what pride▪  
How they insul● on men; how they deride;  
How big they speak; how scurrilous ●hey be,  
In taunting and reviling men more free  
From vice, than they themselves: Or▪ should I tell  
How little tenderness doth seem to dwell  
Within their bosoms, when they do oppress  
The needy widow, and the fatherless:  
If all these things I should insist upon,  
And so describe them, as they might be done;  
The wo●ld would know that all those injuries,  
For which the Law appointeth remedies,  
Are oft less grievous to the Common weal,  
Then most, who most pretend her sores to heal:  
And that as little help from them she sees,  
As when she sets her Cats to keep her Cheese.  
For, some of them are trusty in their kind,  
And so, some trusty Lawy●rs she may find:  
Yea, those ●here be, that in these evil days,  
Like Rubies mixed with pebley, send forth rays  
Of Christian piety's; which do declare,  
That some remain who yet an honour are  
To that profession; and all those are free  
From being t●xt, or blamed here by me.  
The rest shall bear their shame; for, they were bor●  
To be our plague; and they shall be my scorn:  
Their torments ●o afflict both night and day,  
An● there are few such tortu●ers as they.  
Fo●, of those wrongs which we by them sust●ine,  
We scarcely a●e permitted to complain.  
Nor will this ●land better days be●old,  
So long as Offices are boug●t and sold.  
Nor shall I ever think that a●y one,  
Much cares, what right or injury be done,  
That buys or sells an Office; chiefly he,  
Who chaffe●s that where seats of judgement be.  
Fo● order s●ke, to ●hese my knee I bend;  
Or, I to give them titles can descend,  
And every outward reverence; that so  
The pla●e they bear, con●emne● may not grow:  
Yet, nobler far he seemeth in mine eyes,  
Who, by a due election, doth arise  
To be but Herdsman in some Country Borough,  
Then all those Lordlings who have passed through  
The greatest Office●, by giving pay;  
Or by some other unapproved way.  
When men were sou●ht, that Office they might beat  
And had it gratis▪ they such persons were,  
Whose wo●t●, whose vertue●, and whose nobleness,  
Brought ho●or to t●e seats they did possess.  
With faithfulness, their duties they discharged,  
No ancient fee unjustly was enlarged;  
Or n●w extorted; neither did they take  
The poor man's money, when he moan did mak●:  
For, by an easy entrance they were able  
(When need required) to be charitable.  
Their just expenses, also, to provide;  
And to sust●ine a comely port b●side.  
But, since men sought out Offices; and thought  
Of their own merits, better than they ought,  
(Intruding, without modesty, to sit  
Upon that Seat, ●or which they were unfit)  
Since men experienced (by serving long  
In some inferior places) ha● such wrong,  
Tha● ignorant Impostors got possession  
O● what pertains to them, by due succession:  
Yea-since to sac●ed Callings men are chose  
By th●m, that should not of such ●hin●s dispose;  
What can e'er long expected be, u●lesse  
It be an overflow of Barbarousness?  
Since each base fellow (who, perhaps, by stealth,  
By fraud, or by extortion, scrape●-up wealth)  
May purchase, by his evil gotten pel●e,  
A place o● honour, to ensconce himself,  
And fortify his wickedness withal;  
What hope of good proceedings follow shall?  
Since needy, worthless, base, & shameless grooms,  
May se●ue their persons into noble rooms,  
By means ignoble; no man must expect  
From such a Cause, to draw a good Effect;  
Or, that he honour gets, who in such times  
To any honourable title climbs.  
He'● but a thief, that in at window comes;  
The buyer sells, and sells ●or greater sums;  
By bribery, he bribery defends,  
Of unjust Mammon he do●h make him friends,  
To nourish Pride; or else to make up that,  
Whereby possession of his pl●ce he got;  
Without compassion, he doth grieve, oppress,  
And rack the widow, and the fatherless:  
All places▪ and all things t●at appertain  
To every place, he put● to sale, for gain:  
Yea, most men of each other, now, m●ke sale:  
Of th●ir own liberties, of lives, and all.  
Great Officers pretending to the gift  
〈◊〉 some inferior places, make a shift  
●o save the giving, and, so dearly sell  
That their poor underlings they oft compel  
To serve without allowance; or to raise  
Their maintenance, by some unlawful ways:  
Which they must countenance; or else contrive  
That others at such doings may connive.  
Whereby those places held disgraceful be,  
Which, otherwise, from scandal, had been free.  
Why then reproach we such with odious names,  
Since they that are the author's of than shames,  
(And those to whom base te●me● do appertain)  
Are their great Master's, who make wicked gain  
Of what should ●reely be bestowed on those  
To whom they ought such places to dispose?  
From them, and their corruption, doth arise  
The multitudes of base enormities  
That swarm among our petty Officers.  
It is a sum ●f money that prefers  
To every place; and that makes knaves, and sharks,  
Of Sergeants, Waiters, and of Vnder-clarks.  
This maketh Registers, in every Court,  
And other Ministers, so much extort:  
This makes them seek out knots, demurs, delays,  
And practise many unapproved ways,  
To make up that which foolishly they paid:  
Yet, in the grave, thei● heads, perhaps, are laid  
Ere half recovered be: and oft their wives,  
(Whose portion bought those places for their lives)  
Are le●t, with many children, to a lot  
Unpitied, as they others pitied not.  
For, many a one of these, although you see  
Their wives and children in apparel be  
As costly as a Lords (that yea●ly may  
Dispend as great a sum, as these did pay  
For their new Offices) engaged are  
To Usurers, for twice the better share  
Of ●heir large Fines: and, sometime they undo  
Themselves, their kindred, and their neighbours too.  
Hence comes it, that Receivers, Bailifeses, Reeves,  
And other such, are worse than common thiefs;  
And ●ack and pill so boldly; and from hence  
It flows, that few suppress their insolence:  
Even from their base corruption, who do thrive  
By such men's loss; and not alone connive  
At their misdoings, but, oft patronise them,  
And from just censures an escape devise them.  
For they that else would Furze and Brambles burn●,  
Will cherish them, where they may save their co●ne.  
Thus, Britain, most of them have used thee,  
Whose Offices, by purchase, gotten be.  
These, and a multitude of other crimes,  
They cause, and act, and suffer in these times:  
And are so insolent in what they do,  
That they dare practise, and defend it too,  
Without remorse of mind, or seeming sense  
Of being guilty of the least offence.  
Nor come thy Priests or Prophets much behind  
The worst of these: but, pass them in their kind.  
For, though a learned Clergy thou possessest,  
And every day in knowledge much increasest:  
Although I do believe thou hast in thee  
Those Guides whose ways are from reproof as free  
As are the best on earth: yet, thou hast more  
That are perverted, now, then heretofore.  
Of late, thou heaps of Teacher's got haste,  
Resembling empty vapours, or a blast  
That breathes no comfort. What God never meant  
They publish fo●th; and come ere they are sent.  
Thy people's hurts, t●ey cure with sugared speech;  
W●●n there's no peace at all, of peace they preach;  
Thou purblind Watchmen hast, and some that see,  
As blindly walk, as they that blindest be.  
Dumb Dog● thou hast, who spend their time in sleep;  
And, some who bark, but to affright the sheep.  
Like hungry Curs, some always gourmandize;  
Yet nothing can their greediness suffice.  
They follow their own wills, and their own ways  
They hunt for their own profit, their own praise.  
They tread the p●ths where common sinners wal●e;  
Amongst themselves, they most profanely talk;  
And, at the Taverns meet, and sit and ●will  
Strong drink, and wine▪ until their guts they fill.  
In taking Gifts, and compassing Promotion,  
They show more zeal, and practise more Devotion  
Then in their holy Callings. They delight  
In Flatteries; and the fawningst Parasite  
In all t●e Cou●ts of Europe, cannot prate  
More Heathnishly, nor more insinuate  
Then some of th●m. The blessed Sacraments  
And holy Word, are used as instruments  
To compass th●t, for them, which they projected;  
And oft polluted are, and of● neglected.  
Their sacred Orders, are abused and made  
To serve them for an Office, or a Trade,  
To be enriched by; and to that end  
The preaching of the Gospel, they intent.  
They come not ●y the door into the fold;  
Things holy, they hav● often ●oug●t and sold;  
Conspiracies they m●ke in matters fowl;  
They pray upon the body and the soul;  
And, fat and rich, and mighty to become,  
They daub and plaster with untempered ●ome.  
With lies, and fair pretences they beguile;  
And violate the Law of God, the while.  
His Altars they profane, they sla●ve his flock;  
They make Religion but a mocking-flocke;  
And, by examples horrible and vile,  
'Cause other men, Gods Temples to defile.  
There is no avarice which theirs exceeds;  
No malice which a mischief sooner breeds:  
No pride so sutly as their Clergy-pride,  
Except among the Beggars, when they ride.  
They, who but few years past, would half have broke  
Thei● kindreds, to have purchased them a cloak;  
And in poor thread bare Cassocks sought to preach  
Beneath an Vnder-Curate; or to teach  
The children of some Farmers, for their meat:  
And seemed scarce worthy so much grace to get,  
Until by counte●f●it humility,  
(By fawning mixed with importunity,  
And g●lt with feigned zeal) they wr●ught on some;  
To bring their wand'ring feet into their home.  
Even some of these, so well have acted out  
Their part●, of seeming honest and devout;  
That (either like to Micahs Priest, by leaving  
Their Patrons; and their hopeful trust deceiving:  
Or, some su●h likely ways) they have acquired  
A ●i●her station, then th●y first desired.  
They have so quaintly humoured, and so pleased  
T●● present times; that, they have proudly seized  
Supremest places: and, now, over peer  
Their heads by whom, they fi●st advanced were.  
And v●ry profitable, sure it is,  
To heed them, since their met●mo●●●●s●s.  
For, if thou mark, how stately now they bear  
Their lofty heads; how insolent they are;  
How pitiless to suitors they become;  
With what contempt poor men be rated from  
Their angry presence; what imperious Lords  
Their Docto●ships are grown; what haughty words  
They thunder forth; what Antichristian state  
They take upon them; how extreme ingrate  
And inhuman they prove (even unto those  
By whom, they from the dunghill first ●rose)  
Were't well observed how strangely they contemn  
Their ancient friends; and 'twixt themselves, & them,  
What distances they set; or, to their kin  
How harsh and evil natured they have been;  
(Except to those, that having means to rise  
As well as they, their folly do despise.)  
Were't known, what self opinion they have got  
Of their own worths; how they themselves besot  
With arrogance; how peevish, and unquiet  
They be in their attendance, and their diet;  
In small or trifling matters how severe;  
In those which of the greatest moment are,  
How careless grown: how envious of the grace  
O● gifts bestowed on those, in meaner place.  
Were notice also taken, with what strain  
Of p●ide and loftiness, they entertain  
Their brethren of the Clergy, when they are  
By any summons called to appear  
●efore th●ir Lordships; with what Pope like phrase  
They seek to terrify, and to amaze  
Their humble Suppliants, with what bald conceits  
T●ey vaunt their humours, that the crew which waits  
To claw and soothe such follies, may begin  
(In stead of some applause) to fleer, and grin.  
How tartly they can chide, and rail, and play,  
And jest on those, who but the other day  
Did equal them in tempr'all dignities;  
And are more worthy, though less high they rise.  
Were these things heeded, and some passages  
Which name I could, as worthy note as th●se;  
A man would har●ly think, that these had been  
Those Priests, who but a while before were seen  
So beggarly, and so exposed to scorn;  
But, that, they had (at least) been Prelates borne.  
None could have thought that these men had been they  
Who lately did so bitterly inveigh  
Against the pride Episcopal; and plained,  
To see themselves so slighted, and disdained  
Of their superiors: no man would ●ave thought  
These had been poor men's children, who had nought  
To give them nurture; or, that they, bereft  
Of all their friends, were to the parish left.  
None would believe, almost, that any such  
Should from so little, rise to have so mu●h  
In such a Calling; and so worthless be  
In their condition: for, it seems to ●e,  
They little conscience make of that Profession,  
Whereby they have those glories in possession:  
Since then (me thinks) so ●ar they would not swerve  
From his pure word, whom they pretend to serve.  
Oh! pray that God would mak● thos● watchmen see  
What blots and errors in their c●urses be.  
And, that, by good example they may teach,  
What they by word, unto the people preach:  
For, by their actions▪ many overthrow  
The growth of that, which they themselves did sow.  
Or by their failing, or their falling f●●m  
A Christian zeal, make others cold ●ec●me.  
And, some of these are those, of whom Christ says,  
We should embrace their words, but not their ways.  
But, many a one will neither say nor do,  
What we may follow, or give heed unto.  
Yea, we have now among us many a one,  
(That could have spoken well) whose voice is gone,  
By growing over fat with double Cures:  
And pampering up themselves like Epicures.  
How many Doctors have we, who before  
They were advanced, from conditions poor,  
Were glad and willing twice each Sabbath day,  
To preach, and all the public prayers to say?  
Yea, without any show of being weary,  
The Sacraments to give; to wed, to bury,  
And, often in the week, those works to do,  
Which by their Calling they were bound unto?  
Of those how many in these days are seen,  
Th●t having to promotion raised been,  
Are well nigh silenced, now performing neither  
Of all those duties, for whole months together?  
Of these, how many lately have I known,  
So proud (or else perhaps so lazy grown)  
To cast upon their hirelings all that care,  
And all that pains, which they themselves should bear?  
Vouchsafing not so much as once a day,  
(Though they are present) public prayers to say;  
Or preach; or, of the dutie● to be done,  
To ease their Curate, in performing one?  
But (sitting as mere strangers, or as he  
Who thought such works, for him too mean to be)  
Take ease and state upon t●em; more I wis,  
Then either needful or beseeming is.  
Indeed (when they are any way engaged  
By public studies, weak, or sick, or aged)  
Sometime to ease themselves, deserves no blame:  
But having no excuse, it is their shame.  
How unbeseeming is it, to behold  
Our Doctors, who nor crazy are, nor old,  
Nor any way disabled, save through sloth,  
Or through their pride (or else perchance through both)  
To leave that charge to some inferior one,  
Which is too worthy, to be undergone  
By him that's worth'est, in respect of all  
Those dignities, the world afford them shall?  
Why should the adding of a new Degree,  
Or la●ger means (which no additions be  
To their essential wor●h) make wise men seem  
So highly praised, in their own esteem,  
As to debase that work, for whose mere sake,  
God's mercy them so eminent did make?  
For, if it were not so, why do they more  
Neglect those duties now, then heretofore?  
Why, in performing them, respect they so  
The times, and persons, as we see they do?  
At solemn feasts, or in those places where  
Most honourable personages are,  
Why do they preach more often? why baptise,  
And wed, and bury, where their living lies,  
The richer fort, and let the poor alone;  
If what they do, for conscience sake be done?  
Ala●! preferment, and the being rich,  
Doth choke up virtues, and the mind bewitch,  
The daughter sleights the mother. For, Devotion  
Brought forth by painful travel, fair Promotion;  
And lo, no sooner is Preferment borne,  
But, proud she grows, and doth her Mother scorn.  
They who d●d much for little; now, possessing  
A great abundance, do requite the blessing  
With doing less, in stead of doing more;  
And, mar with pride, what pain did plant before.  
The greater favours we from God receive,  
The greater thankfulness we should conceive.  
Yea, when that he advanceth us most high,  
We should express the more humility;  
And think, that even the meanest circumstances  
Belonging to his holy Ordinances,  
Could not with reverence enough be done,  
When we have all our worthiness put on.  
And, doubtless, when to God most high we raise  
Our hands, in offering up his public praise,  
The man (in my opinion) fitteth best  
That work; who seems more worthy than the rest.  
And, whosoever should that act eschew,  
(Except just cause within himself he knew)  
I know (how high soe'er his place hath been)  
His Calling is dishonoured therein:  
Or, if to be assistant he doth shun,  
When any priestly work is to be done,  
Where he hath Cure: for, into others rooms,  
To make intrusion, no man it becomes.  
God grant those men humility, and care,  
Who otherwise, in this, affected are;  
And show o●r Clergy what uncomeliness  
Appears in this. For, some herein transgress  
By other men's examples; and indeed,  
Some other men, by want of taking heed  
Of what they do; who having weighed the fact,  
Will never put the same, again, in act.  
Lord waken these; and, humble those, I pray,  
Whom pride, or vanity have led astray.  
And oh! ye house of Levi, warning take ye;  
Lest God, for times to come, examples make ye,  
As he that Clergy, your example made,  
Whose monstrous pride, the age before you, had  
So great a fall. Oh! mind it, and be more  
Regardful of your Charge then heretofore:  
Lest they that spite the Church's dignities,  
(And of her Dowry seek to make a prize)  
For your ambitious pride, occasion take,  
On God's Inheritance, their pr●y to make.  
So will our Clergy, which is yet respected,  
Be scorned, become as poor, and as neglected,  
As in those Countries, where their former pride  
Hath made their Calling to be vilifide.  
Oh! leave, oh! leave your haughtiness betimes,  
Your avarice, your envy, and those crimes,  
That are observed among you; left for them  
God shake the wall of our jerusalem.  
For, heaven and earth for me shall testify,  
That this my Muse in nothing doth belie.  
Your manners; but that you are mo●e then stained,  
With every fault whereof I have complained.  
And as it was their Priests and Prophet's sin  
That brought the Deluge of those troubles in,  
Which overwhelmed the jewish Commonweal:  
So, if with us the Lord severely deal,  
Your sins and errors will enlarge the rent,  
Through which the mortal arrow shall be sent,  
That deepest wounds. Oh! God defend us from  
Such judgements; or, if thou be pleased they come,  
Upon our sinful bodies strike the blow;  
And keep us from a spiritual overthrow.  
Excuse me worthy Prelates; and all you  
Whom God with la●ge preferments doth endue,  
And raise to honour, out of low degrees,  
Because engrafted in your hearts he sees  
Such inward virtues, and such outward graces,  
As do become your high and holy places;  
Excuse me if in aught delivered here,  
Injurious to your worths I may appear:  
For, not a Line of these reproving strains,  
To you or any one of your pertains;  
Nor need you cure, if any shall apply,  
These tart reproofs, to blur your Callings by:  
Because you know, that none are this way harmed,  
Who are by true and real virtues armed.  
Because you also know, that some have shamed  
Your places by such ●●imes as I have named.  
I know you will not frown, though I did say,  
That some of Christ's Disciples would betray  
Their Master to his foes. Since this no more  
Redounds to your disgrace, than heretofore  
It did to his Apostles, that he said  
How he by one of them should be betrayed.  
None tax you shall, by means of this, but heady  
And hairebrained fools, that are your foes already;  
Nor would I for the world unloose my tongue,  
To do the Virtuous, or your Calling wrong.  
Let no man gather hence, my Muse envies  
The Clergy, or the reverend Dignities  
To them pertaining; or dislike to see  
Great Prelates raised up from low degree:  
For, them I honour most, who from a race  
Of mean esteem, have gained an honoured place,  
By true desert. And (might I be as able  
As willing) I would make more honourable  
Their holy Callings; and for ever close  
Their greedy mouths, and bind the hands of those  
Who speak, or act, what might infringe their due,  
Who in those places good examples show.  
I know, among our Bishops, there are some,  
Who make their outward honours to become  
A means to keep Religion, and their Calling,  
From being vilified, and from falling  
Into contempt: of S●iles account th●y make not,  
For their own glory: to themselves they take not  
Their Lordly Attributes; but to adorn  
Their Office, and to keep the same from scorn.  
Some such there are: and for the sakes of such  
It is, that yet our Clergy hath so much  
Of that esteem which our forefathers left them;  
And that these greedy times have not bereft them  
Of those endowments which were granted here  
When Kings the Churches nursing Fathers were.  
From these reprooses, let such therefore be free;  
And fall the blame on those that faulty be.  
But, as the Shepherds have deserved the strokes  
Of God's displeasure; so their wanton Flocks  
The same have merited; and, blame there lies  
On all conditions, and fraternities.  
I woul● not speak what might offend the Throne  
Of justice; or the King that fits thereon.  
From all taxation let him scape as free  
As he is innocent; yea let him be  
Untouched: and, let every virtuous Peer,  
Be free from all, that shall be spoken here:  
For, I will aim at none, but whom it shall  
Become an honest Muse to chide withal.  
In this, believe me Readers. For, I pray  
Forgive my bluntness. And I dare to say  
The Court is fraught with bribery, with hate,  
With envy, lust, ambition, and debate;  
With fawn, with fantastic imitation,  
With shameful sloth, and base diffimulation.  
True virtue's almost quite exiled ●hence,  
And vice with vice, for chief pre-eminence  
Maintaineth w●rs. The mo●t profuse Excess,  
And Avarice, one bo●ome oft possess:  
The greater pa●t are of a Mushroom breed,  
Spring up upon a sudden, without seed,  
Or plant, or graft, and, often, in one day,  
(Yea sometime in a moment) swept away.  
With lies, they seek their Sover●igne to delight;  
And act their impudences in his sight.  
They flay the people, an● their flesh they tear  
Even from the bones; as doth a greedy Bear.  
They cannot broo● the mention of their error;  
They drive out of their minds the day of ter●or.  
Deep pits, to hide their mischiefs in, they m●ke;  
And think th●t God no heed of them will take.  
They live upon the Commons; and yet grow  
More fat, than others in enclosures do  
And, that which follows their increasing power,  
Is but to be devoured, or devour.  
Their wealth consists of Projects: their esteem  
Is that which they to one another seem.  
Their Honours are bare Titles; and, that state  
Which they themselves do fancy and create.  
Their Ze●le is wilfulness. Their Faith is such  
As Reason breeds; and, most times, not so much.  
Their Hope is something, but I know not what.  
Their Charity is nothing; or else that  
Which I should call Self-love. Their Strength i● in  
Opinion▪ and in ableness to sin.  
Their Wisdom, and their Policy, (if we  
May guess at things that undiscerned be)  
Is to resolve on nothing: so, the Foe  
Shall never compass their designs to know.  
Their Courtesy (if men will be content  
To think it may consist in Compliment)  
Is wondrous great. Their Valour is in oaths.  
Their greatest Glory doth depend on clothes;  
In which they are so vain, that every morn  
(Almost) a new attire by some is worn,  
Of several stuffs or fashions: and they dress  
Their bodies, with such tedious curiousness,  
And, such a multitude of hands there are  
To tr●m them (and their trappings to prepare)  
That half so many, of good workmen, may  
Erect a house, ere they themselves array.  
Of Honesty they scarce the name afford:  
For, should I term one, there, an honest Lord;  
It might be thought as clownish, so to do,  
As it were fal●e, perhaps, to call him so.  
God's holy Sabbaths, most among them, there,  
Observe not much; except it be to wear  
Their finest clothes. The Businesses, that may,  
And should be done upon some other Day,  
Are then debated on, as frequently,  
As those affairs which by necessity  
Are urged upon them. And, all sorts of men  
(When they should serve their God) are forced then  
To wait upon the world; to whom God gave  
Six days; for every one which he should have.  
Nor, thereby, many other men's unrests  
Occasion they alone; but, even their beasts  
Are then disquieted; and cannot have  
That right, which both God's Laws, & Natures, gave▪  
Sometime, they to remove, that Day, prepare;  
Yea▪ then begun, sometimes; removals are;  
And in the Court, more Carters, we may see  
Employed that day, then through the Kingdom be.  
On Sun●ayes far more Coaches rumble thither,  
Then do in some three other days together:  
And, seldom have they leisure for a Play,  
O● Mask, except upon God's Holiday.  
I do not think we are obliged to  
A jewish Sabbath, as great numbers do:  
But sure I am, from Piety we swarve,  
Unless a Christian-one we do observe.  
And, though to them no fault it may appear,  
Who on such Evenings do but only hear  
Or (for their honest recreation) view  
The action of some Interlude, or Show;  
Yet, needs it must be known, to some of these,  
That to prepare for such Performances,  
To many persons must occasions be  
Of Sabb●th-bre●king in a high degree.  
In whom this fault most lies, as yet, my Muse  
Describeth not: bu●, sure I may excuse  
The King: and if but half ●o forward were  
Those Clergy men that have his royal ●are,  
To cause him such enormities to see;  
As they are thought in other things to be  
Which less concern them; he would soon forbidden  
Those customs; and as Nehemiah did,  
More hallowed make the Sabbath. Nay if none  
O● them, whose wisdom he dependeth on,  
In this have misinformed him; he will prov●  
O●r Nehemiah, and this fault remove,  
When he hath warmed his Thro●e: for we have hope  
That all our Breaches he e'er long shall stop.  
But leaving him, I'll finish the repo●t  
Which fits the greater number in the Co●rt.  
Religion they have some, but many care not  
I●●he●e the use or mention of it were not:  
Some others have divided it between  
Our gracious sovereign, and his royal Queen;  
And, till in one Religion they agree,  
They stand resolved, that they will Neuters be.  
Oh! make betwixt them, Lord, a blessed Union,  
And, us partakers of thy blessed Communion.  
Our Cities are as wicked as the Court;  
Of he● transgressions they come nothing short:  
But, rather pass them; if a man might say  
That Infinites admit exceeding may.  
And, London, thou thy Sisters all hast passed,  
In all the faults, whereby they have transgressed:  
To thee alo●e, my speech I therefore bend,  
And will in ●hine their follies reprehend.  
I know that thou hast m●ny souls in th●e,  
Who truly zealous of God's glory be:  
Yea, thousands that by prayers and repenting,  
Do seek thy peace, and labour the preventing  
Of thy perdition; and, though they endure  
Scoffs, taunts▪ and injuries, from thy impure  
And faithless Children ryea, though such as are  
Thy shame, and m●rk● God's heavy wrath to bear,  
Contemn and malice those, and use their power  
Those innocents to ruin● and devour:  
Yet, they are those who keep away God's wrath;  
And for whose sakes be ●o long spared thee hath.  
They make that pleasing Number, who restrain  
Those flames of Sulphur, that consumed the plain  
Which now the Lake Asphaltis' overflows.  
And when (from out of thee) God calls for those,  
Thou feel it shalt; and, not unlike become  
Those Asian Churches, which departed from  
Their ancient love▪ and are the loathsome den  
Of Satyrs, Fairies, and of Beasts unclean.  
A place for Zim, and Limb; a nest for Owls,  
Night Ravens, Vultures, and ill-boding Fowls.  
And, then, in every house (as heretofore,  
When popish-darknesse spread this Kingdom o'er)  
Men shall be frighted with strange dreadful noises;  
Deformed visions, and hobgoblin voices.  
I know, Goodworks in ●hee are to be found;  
And that, above the rest, thou dost abound  
In public Charities. I know thou hast  
All Cities, in this Kingdom, overpast  
In plentifully preaching of God's word;  
And, that thou bountifully dost afford  
Large voluntary pensions to that end.  
(Yea, somewhat else I might in thee commend.)  
But, if thou take a note of thy transgressions▪  
If thou at thy Assizes, at thy Sessions,  
Or, at thy other Courts, observe, or hear,  
How many horrid crimes detected are;  
How many filthy and abhorred things,  
God there discloses, and to judgement brings;  
And if thou think, withal, how many m●●  
Committed are, which few do come to know.  
Or heededst thou how few, and worthless, all  
Those works appear, which thou dost Virtues call▪  
What would they seem, compared to thy sin?  
Or to those favours, which have heaped been,  
By God, upon thee? Doth he owe thee aught,  
Or hast thou done him services for nought?  
Oh! LONDON, hath he not advanced thee  
The Mistress, and the Sovereign to be  
Of all the Towns, and Cities of this I'll?  
Hath he not raised thee many a goodly pile?  
Art not thou placed above, and they below?  
Continuing blessings doth he not bestow?  
And many privileges, yet, denied  
To all the Burroughs of the Land beside?  
Behold, thou hast the principallest Trade,  
And all their Merchants are thy Chapmen made:  
Thou art the Royal Chamber of the King;  
Whose residence doth wealth and honour bring  
To magnify thy greatness. Kept in thee  
His Parliaments, and Courts of justice be.  
Among the famoust Cities under heaven,  
God hath to few a situation given  
For pleasure, health, and profit, well united,  
To thee compared▪ Yea, God did seem delighted  
In thee to make his Dwelling (even among  
Thy Temples) by maintaining here so long  
His Harbingers, and Ledgers, to provide  
Fit mansions, for his Graces to reside.  
Thy God, to be thy Hu●band, thou hast had;  
And, were't by him a fruitful Mother made,  
So plentiful in Children; that, they play  
Like swarms of Bees, about their hives, in May.  
No place in Europe, hath been so supplied  
With soul and body's food; or, fortified  
By Garrisons, Forts, Bulwarks, and munition,  
As thou art hitherto (by God's tuition)  
Without such charge or trouble. And the day  
Will come, wherein, if any man shal● say  
What peace thou hadst; and, in what plenty ●ere  
Thy Children lived (without want or fear)  
It will not be believed, that a Nation  
So blest, could suffer such an alteration.  
For, as (by Seas) from every other part  
Of Earth's vast circuit, thou enclosed art:  
So, from the sudden coming of invasions,  
And from the many troubles and occasions  
Of Wars and wants, which in the world, we see;  
Divided, also, these do seem to be.  
Such is thy blessed condition; and, although  
Thou hast, about thee, of all things enough,  
That may thy pleasure, or thy need suffice;  
Yet, all the dainties and the rarities,  
The World affords, are yearly hither sent,  
From every quarter, of Earth's Continent.  
Oils, wines, and fruits, that good & pleasant are,  
Swim hither through the straits of Gibraltar.  
Cold Norway, (or the parts adjoining) greets  
Thy River with materials for thy Fleets.  
America doth oft renew thy store  
With Sugar, drugs, with gold and silver o'er;  
With Ambergris; with woods that sweetly smell;  
And other things, that please thy ●ancy well.  
Ormus, with Pearl thy beauties doth adorn,  
The Silks of Persia, in thy streets are worn.  
From diverse parts of Africa, (and from  
Cham's lineage there) white Ivory doth come;  
And Apes and Feathers. China, where they printed,  
And used Guns, ere we those Arts invented,  
(If Friars be not liars) doth impart  
The fruits of their Inventions, and their Art,  
To thy Inhabitants. Ra●e stones o● price,  
Sweet smelling gums, and odoriferous spice,  
Are brought unto thee ma●y thousand miles;  
Even from ●he Eastern Indies, and their Iles.  
This shows God's bounty: and of his compassion  
Thou lately hadst, (even by thy preservation,  
In thy great Plagues remove; and by his pity  
Vouchsafed otherways, unto thy City)  
Such evidence: that all men may confess  
He did respect thee, with much tenderness.  
What should I mention more, since, to recount  
God● benefits would doubtlessly amount  
To many Volumes? and sure none is able  
To number that which is ina●merable?  
This may suffice (for this time) to express  
His Bounty, and thy great unthankfulness.  
For, what h●st thou returned him, ●or these.  
And all those blessings, which his Love doth please  
To shower upon thee? What hast thou repaid  
For all the Charges which he hath defrayed,  
(In fencing, planting, and manuring thee)  
That worthy, such a Husbandman, may be?  
Thou hast faire-seeming Grapes, I must confess,  
But, they are sour, and full of rottenness.  
Thou mak'st great sh●w of charitable works;  
But, that hypocrisy within them lurks,  
Which mars their acceptation. Thou hast built  
Some Churches; yet, art tainted by the guilt  
Of Sacrilege: and, those thy gifts that eary  
The pioust shows have ●earce been voluntary.  
Great numbers, in thy Hospitals are fed,  
And lodged, and cured: but, the men are dead  
Who founded them; and few do bring supply  
To such good works, till they are sick, or dye.  
Thou entertainest Proachers, but they must  
Speak pleasing things; or else away are thrust.  
Thou hast of Pastors, some who shows do make  
Of so much Conscience, that they will forsake  
Their Livings rather then it shall be said  
They'll wear a Surplice: yet, some are afraid,  
That most of these, do cunningly conceal  
Much pride or avario● beneath their zeal,  
And that their suffling of a silencing,  
Doth much more liberty or profit bring,  
Then two good Personages: and that, thereby,  
Good meaning folk are brought to beggary.  
Thou hast redeemed some Captives; but, it was  
With sparingness, and hardly brought to pass.  
Thou plantest Colonies; but, thou dost drain  
The nourishment away, that should maintain  
And settle them. God grant some be not gl●d  
To fly (for this) to them, that should have had  
More help from thee, and in far Country's perish,  
Because those plants they did no better nourish.  
Much know thy people; but (alas) they do  
As if good life belonged not thereunto.  
Strict Gospelers thou hast, that can profess  
Religion, with much for●all holiness:  
But they, like Zodoms' apples, prove within  
As loathsome, as their outsides ●aire have been.  
Yea, they (against their brethren) oft are found  
In hate, and poisonous malice to abound.  
Good Orders, Laws, and Customs thou hast many;  
But, very seldom exercisest any,  
Except for private gain; or to acquire  
Some Vengeance, which thou dost, perhaps desire.  
Thou hast judicial Courts, wherein I (heeding  
Their Laws) saw promises of just proceeding:  
But, marking well their Forms, they seemed, rather,  
Devices for thine Officers, to gather  
Rich fortunes by; then to afford redress  
For those, whom their oppressors do oppress.  
Thou hast a Magistracy, to maintain  
The peace of honest men; and, to restrain  
The rage of wickedness: but, lo; even some  
Of those are patrons of misrule become;  
Disturbing quiet men, and thriving by  
Befriending sin; else I have heard a lie.  
Yea, some are famed, to increase their living,  
By cunning rigour, mixed with conniving:  
Deceiving honest people, by strict shows  
Of punishing of those whom they excuse.  
For when by doing justice they compel  
A wicked man beyond their bounds to dwell,  
(Some thi●k) their grief, and loss, it doth augment,  
As much as losing of a Tenement.  
Thou hast Correction-houses; but, thou mende●t  
Not many, whom to chasten thou pretendest:  
For, thither they are oftener ●ent to ease thee  
Of them, or of their pilfrings, which disease thee;  
Then out of Christian purposes, to force  
Such vagrant people to a better course:  
And, therefore are thy Suburbs pestered now,  
With beggars; yea, for that, so large doth g●ow  
The number of thy vagrant Rogues, and Cheaters,  
That they begin to imitate their betters,  
In Government, and Method: and, are grown  
To have both Laws, and Language, of ●heir own.  
Thy Children yield some good conformity  
To Rules and Precepts of Morality:  
But, most observe good orders, to enjoy  
Their own state safe, and to prevent annoy  
That might be●ide themselves; much ●ather, then  
In true obedience unto God, or men.  
Within thy Corporation, I likewise  
Have notice taken of Societies,  
Which be●re a goodly show of ordering  
Thy several Trades: and I in many a thing  
Their use commend: yet, some of them, to me,  
Gross Monopolies, do appear to be.  
Which do in secret, with some open shows  
Of public good, the public weal abuse.  
Nor would it be a●isse, if some things were  
More free, which by their means restrained are:  
Or if the State would better look unto  
Those injuries, which many of them do.  
Fo●, when these Bodies politic oppress,  
Their power doth make the wrong without redress▪  
Their purses, and continuance, may o'rebea●e  
The righ●full'st cause (if so they pleased are)  
The friends, and oft, the very noise they'll make,  
(Because a multitude) much hold doth take  
For their advantages; although the cause  
Be both against good Conscience, and the Laws.  
Nay, should the Commonwealth her s●lfe, oppose  
These Corporations, for some wrong that flows  
From their proceedings; it would scarce obtain  
That power which could these Petty-weales restrain.  
For, having gain or loss, accrueing by  
Their Claim, which doth concern them, far more nigh,  
Then that, oft seems to touch those men, who stand  
To take the Kingdom's general cause in hand,  
It makes them t● pursue it, more than they;  
More Patrons to procure, more bribes to pay;  
And, at the last, to conquer▪ by that course,  
Which makes the better cause to seem the worse.  
This brings to mind same wrongs that I have had,  
And what accounted of honest suits is made,  
If once a greedy foolish multitude  
Upon the right of any doth intrude.  
But, left by thinking on it, mix I may  
My private harms, with what I meant to say  
For public ends: here breathe I will a space,  
Until my present thoughts I can displace.  
Forgive me, Lord, if I have guilty been  
In this my work, of any private spleen.  
My Muse h●llow thou; confirm thy love:  
Infuse me with thy Spirit from above,  
With better things than flesh and blood discerns;  
Inspire me with each Virtue which concerns  
The finishing of what I undertake:  
Make profitable all that I shall speak.  
And, to thy Name some honour let it be,  
Although it should both shame and ruin me.   

The seventh Canto.  

First, of Himselve he somewhat speaks:  
Then, of the City's errors, makes  
A larger Scroll, and, therewithal  
Inserts abuses general.  
He shows (by reason of her sin)  
What misery this Land is in;  
What ill success, and what dishonour,  
Is, for her follies, come upon her,  
In foreign parts, and here at home:  
How senseless, also, she's become:  
What several ways against this Land,  
God hath of late stretched out his hand.  
And, how the blame for what's amiss,  
From one to th'o●her shifted is.  
By many Symptoms, he declares  
How sick this Commonweal appears;  
Disputes ●he late distemper bred,  
Betwixt the Body and the Head:  
And lays the blame, whe●e lie i● should;  
Yet, therein, proves not overbold.  
T●en aims he at some imperfections  
In Burgesses, and their Election●;  
And, briefly pointeth at the way  
By which our Cure effect we may.   
WHen I (whose lawfully emboldened Muse  
The faults and errors of her time pursues)  
Have by some slips, or frailties of mine own,  
Alaid that flame, which Gods good Spirit hath blown;  
Or when such heat within me, waxeth less  
By fainting, through a natural weariness;  
Or, by that willing, or constrained pause,  
Whereof my friends, or businesses, are cause:  
At such a time, when I perusal m●ke  
Of these beginnings; and, strict notice take  
What here is dared; I oft find, as then,  
Such fears in me, as move in other men.  
And, being flesh and blood, as frail as they,  
I stagger in my best approved way.  
ere I thus far proceeded, I was tired,  
Even in this present Work (although inspired  
With all that zeal thereto, which you may see  
In some foregoing Leaves, expressed by me)  
My heart was oft assailed; and I, almost,  
My best confirmed Resolutions lost.  
Yea, twice, at least, since I this Task assayed,  
It hath by false suggestions been delayed:  
And, many painful strive are within me,  
When from this Work, Temptation fights to win me.  
Lord! (thinks my heart) sometimes, what means my Soul  
To make me in this desperate wise control  
Those careless Times? have I done well or no,  
With nests of angry Wasps to meddle so?  
Hath he, or wit, or common sense, that stirs,  
A froward Bear? or plays with testy Curs?  
Will any think me capable of Reason,  
Thus bold to be at such a dangerous season?  
Nay, will not all account me mad to vent  
Such Lines as these? adventuring to be shent,  
And be undone, perhaps, to no more end,  
Then that whereto my Labour seems to tend?  
Do I conceive the Times, or Manners, be  
Amended aught, by what is said by me?  
Am I, that have, myself, unwisely done,  
A fitting man, to hurl this heavy stone  
At other sinners? what may many say,  
But that in this I rail, or else do play  
The witless Fury? It hath brought me loss,  
(Think I) already; and will surely cross  
The settling those affairs of mine, which are  
Nigh ripened, with much pain, expense, and care.  
And then the world, and my necessities,  
Begin to tempt me, by such fallacies,  
That I half yield. How wilt thou live, or pay  
Where thou engaged art? they seem to say.  
By what, or whence, thy wants wilt thou supply,  
If thou for this imprisoned shouldst lie,  
Divided from thy friend's? or, on the bed  
Of sickness, shouldst by God be visited?  
Nay, though thou nothing wantest; yet thou ha●t  
So universally thy censure past,  
On all offenders, (and it will so vex  
In private, and so openly perplex  
Great multitudes, so many several ways)  
That, it will make thee hated, all thy days.  
Where dost thou live, or whither canst thou go,  
But there thou art assured of a foe?  
The City, and the Court, thou hast controlled,  
With Commons, and with Nobles thou art bold;  
Unconscionable Lawyers here are checked.  
Thou dost some faults of Clergymen detect,  
With so much evidence, that be thou sure  
Of all the mischief which they can procure;  
And that, not one of them thy friend will be  
Who from those imputations is not free.  
All they that are notoriously, Transgressor's,  
All Schismatics, and all our false Professors  
Will bitterly oppose thee. And no spite  
Is like the malice of an Hypocrite.  
In brief (excepting those that are sincere  
In life and Doctrine) no man will appear  
As thy partakers: And, what are those ●ew.  
To that great Army, which will thee pursue?  
If this deject me not, another thought  
Is by another way upon me brought  
It whispers to me, that these Li●es will wake  
Detraction; and that she revenge will take,  
For interrupting and reproving Sin,  
That in security would fain have been.  
Nor, is that now unpractized: For, there be  
A world of dogs already ba●ting me.  
Hypocrisy▪ and Envy do combine,  
With guilty Malice, how to undermine  
My good Repute, (that by a disrespect  
Of me, my words may take the less effect)  
They compass me about, they watch my ways,  
And mark my speeches (as good David says)  
That if but sparks of error, they can see,  
They blow them may, till flames they seem to be.  
Let but a foolish word, slip out among  
My c●mmon t●lkings, (for alas ' whose tongue  
Doth never err▪) they strait to censure take it,  
And, such a piece of wickedness they make it;  
That, should on them a judgement ●o severe  
From God be passed (or by the world) I fear  
It would so heavy on their pe●sons come;  
That they would think the same a cruel doom.  
If they but see me do what they suppose  
May tend to folly, (though my Maker knows  
The deed suspected, is as far from fin,  
As that which I am best employed in)  
They instantly a rash conclusion draw;  
And speak their dream, as well as what they saw.  
They fancy in their own corrupted thought,  
What may at such a time, or place, be wrought,  
By evil minded folks: and, thereupon,  
Conclude the very same by me was done.  
Then they ●elate it: and though nought were seen  
Which might indeed a likelihood have been  
Of such an act; they, by themselves devise  
To fashion out fair probabilities  
Of what they speak: and, by the Devil's aid,  
Acts innocent, sometimes are so betrayed;  
So misreported by the spite o● those  
Whose wickedness, perhaps, I did oppose▪  
Yea, blameless circumstances, otherwhile,  
Are so mistaken; and do so beguile  
With shows of proving and confirming, that  
Which was conceived by prejudicated  
And false opinion; that, it makes them ●old,  
To think their feigned slander may be told,  
With good belief: then to divulge about  
Their lies (of me) they search companions out.  
And as they are of sundry minds who raise  
Such Scandals; so, they vent them diverse ways.  
If of the sort they be, whose open sin,  
Hath in my Poems reprehended been;  
Or such as they, who dai●y guilty be  
Of doing that, wherewith they flander me:  
Then, in despite, or to extenuate  
Their own offences; thus, of me they prate.  
This man (say they) that strips & whips the times  
And, doth so thunder in his railing rhymes,  
(Against the faults of others) is no less  
Ingul●ed in the sink of wickedness  
Than he that's worst. His Dalilah hath he,  
And his beloved sins, as well as we.  
He such a place frequenteth; he hath been  
Met there, and there: him, we have daily seen  
With such or such a one, at such a season:  
Do so, and so; for which we know no reason:  
Thus he is thought to be, and thus to do:  
Yea, some of them will impudently to,  
Affirm they saw, what they but misconceived;  
If they do find their slanders unbelieved.  
And when they speak such things, they neither care  
To whom, nor when, nor yet how false they are.  
If they be such who merely out of spite,  
Or envy, to disparage me, delight;  
(As do some Poetasters) they forbear  
To speak downright (because they do not dare)  
And utter Parables. They, knavishly,  
Their falsehoods to some Truths, do closely tie,  
To get belief. Things proper unto me,  
They mix with attributes that cannot be  
To me applied, that so they may evade,  
When question of their purposes is made.  
They speak but half their matter out; and leave  
The rest, for those that hear them to conceive  
What they shall please: but, first disclose they will  
Enough to make their best conjectures ill.  
With words ironical, they do revile me:  
The Valiant Poet, they in scorn do style me.  
The Chronomastix; and when taxed they are  
That me they meant, their meanings they forswear.  
When these applauded Wits, have at the Po●  
Some Novice, or some new admirer got  
Of their Stronglines (which warmed by the heat,  
Of Sack, or Claret, they, perhaps repeat)  
'twere worth your sight, to see how soon the fire  
Of Bacchus, their large brain pans doth inspire.  
With mimmick strains: And how they shuffle i●  
Selfe-praises; and how grossly they begin  
Occasions, that they may enthrall your ear  
With some new-pe●ee of theirs, which you shall hear  
Perforce; yet hear it with so much ado,  
That you must think you have a favour to.  
For with as many tedious circumstances  
As doth some capering fool before he dances,  
(Or Singer, which must tired be with wooing,  
To do what willingly, he would be doing)  
They do begin to read, or to rehearse  
Some fragments of their new created Verse,  
With such a Gesture, and in such a Tone,  
As if Great Tamburlaine upon his Thro●e,  
Were uttering a majestical Oration,  
To strike his hearers dead with admiration.  
Which oft so works upon their Auditory,  
That, to the great advancement of their glory,  
They lad them with applauses, and with drink  
Till they themselves▪ the Kings of Poets think.  
To which opinion, when once raised they be,  
Then shall t●e Draw●●, or the Tapster see  
Their natural humour, which (if true some say)  
Is better worthy seeing, than a Play.  
Among the rest, 'tis odds, but e'er they go,  
The Poets must be summoned in a row  
To bide their drunken censure; which doth shame  
Those few they praise, much more than those they blame.  
Among the rest, it chanceth, some By-stander  
By naming me their Catalogue doth slander.  
If then a man of fashion he appear,  
Who undertakes my name to mention there,  
The man (say these) may pass; but, such as he  
(By us) no Poets are esteemed to be.  
A has the way of making pretty Rhymes,  
To fit the apprehension of the times;  
And, him for that, the multitude doth favour:  
But, in his lines, there is but little savour  
Of Reading, or Antiquity. Thus far  
They go, if they perceive their hearers are  
Indifferently affected. And if they  
Do find them jealous of my fame, they'll say,  
Most fawningly, sometime those wo●ds of me  
(In way of praise) that I should blush to be  
Within their hearing. Yet, they'll interpose  
Some jestings, now and then; or, in the close,  
Induce, by way of merriment, some cause  
To bring their good opinions to a pause.  
Affirming, that though Drunkard I am none,  
Yet, I reputed am a wanton-one:  
By some such way their spleen they'll satisfy.  
But, if no friend of mine appeareth by,  
So freely, then, they vomit all their gall,  
That they scarce make me any thing at all.  
And some, who neither knew them well, nor me,  
Have thought me base than the basest be.  
Some others, by their malice, thought I had  
Some worth in me, which them so envious made;  
And came to know me; and when me they knew,  
They told me this, which I have told to you.  
Some other, show at large, they wish my shame,  
But to their Libels will not set their Name,  
For fear of danger. And though such can gain  
No prudent man (at first) to entertain  
Their fatherless reports: yet, sure they are,  
The world hath Knaves and Fools enough, to hear  
The falsest tales; and that, when far they go,  
The best suspect, and oft believe them too.  
There be some other, who (out of a light  
Vain humour) love to hear, and to recite  
men's personal defects (without intent  
Of doing right or wrong in what they vent)  
They speak at random, whatsoever is new,  
Not much regarding whether false or true;  
And, do but serve to bear the tale about,  
And blow the fire, which else would smother ou●.  
There is another brood of these Detractors,  
Who in traducing me, are common actors:  
And, they are such who cunningly conceal  
Their hate and envy with a holy zeal:  
They, whose Religion, and whose honesties  
Consist in judging those infirmities  
That are in others. If these men espy  
Some little Atoms in their brother's eye▪  
They strait as busily do heave at them,  
As if the smallest were a mighty Beam.  
Their lying suppositions must be took  
For verities; or ●lse they will not brook  
A word you speak: nay (if you do misdoubt  
Their censures) from the Church they thrust you out.  
They Charity pretend; and, though they are  
Well pleased when they have something to declare  
Which may disgrace another, they will seem,  
To have his reputation in esteem.  
As loath to speak; they'll bring it round about;  
And thus (or some such way) divulge it out.  
Now verily it grieves our very hearts,  
The man whom God hath blessed with such parts,  
Should walk in such unsanctified ways.  
And then, they white me over with some praise  
To make the spots the blacker which they mean  
To spirit upon me, from their mouths unclean.  
And though those Tales they build their Censures on  
Were first received from some such wicked one  
Whom they in other matters do distrust,  
Yet is their criticism so unjust,  
That in disgracing me, their words they'll take▪  
And, also, of themselves, conjectures make  
To justify their scandals; that they may  
The su●er be, their stains on me to lay.  
Thus by the seeming sanctity of those,  
My good intention (in these Poems) growe●  
More frustrate, then by all the rage of them▪  
Who, with an open impudence, contemn  
My best Designs. These, strike me deeper than  
The wounds of twenty thousand others can:  
Ye●, by their means the werke th●t I have wrought  
(With such a mind, as th●t it might have brought  
More good repute, than many others get)  
Serves but to make me seem a counterfeit:  
Yea, all my doings which are most upright  
They judge as actions of an Hypocrite,  
Which is the worst of Sinners. And in this▪  
If they have placed their bitter dooms amiss,  
What sin is theirs? Or, when can greater wrong,  
Be done at any, live he never so long?  
Thou know'st oh! God (for thou all hearts dost know)  
That though through frailty, of● astray I go;  
And, otherwhile may tread that doubtful path  
Of which the world a wrong opinion hath;  
That neither I allow of any sin  
Within myself, nor would continue in  
The smallest error, if I knew the same.  
Thou know'st that what hath caused my greatest blame  
Among some Censurers; is that by which  
I am indeed, become most truly rich:  
And that it also maketh me reform  
My ways the better; and those works perform  
To which thou callest, with fa●re greater ease.  
And I am likewise hopeful, thou wilt please  
To bless my cou●ses. For, thou Lord hast known▪  
(In that rough tract, through which my feet have gone:)  
How grieved I am, when I misled have been,  
Or in my actions, if aught hath been se●ne  
Offensive unto others Thou dost view  
My path; and with what mind I do pursue  
The way I go▪ Thou knowest Lord, that I  
Have oft refrained the Christian liberty  
I might have taken; left many that are weak  
Might of my lawful freedom, evil speak.  
Thou knowest this; and I am certain to  
Th●t pleases thee which in thy fear, I do.  
By these, and such like mischiefs which I see  
This wicked wo●ld hath power to bring on me,  
I oft wax doubtful; and sometime I shrink  
Even from those just employments, which I think  
God calls me to And then I half desire  
I might into obscurity retire  
From whence I came; and be discharged quite  
From this great warfare, wherein, yet, I fight.  
For, many heavy weights on me are thrown  
By these engagements (to the world unknown)  
Yea private combats there are fought in me,  
So many, and so dangerous they be,  
That oft my Hopes are almost driven from me,  
And, dull Despair would surely overcome me,  
Were God not always ready to defend me,  
And, as mine faileth, his own power to lend me▪  
But, when myself o'recharged I do find;  
When flesh and blood begin to shrink behind;  
And when I see my Foes have mustered all  
Their force against me: I start up, and call  
A better aid than mine own Virtue gives me;  
And, by his holy Spirit, God relieves me:  
He makes me strong, in each good undertaking;  
A●d answers all the doubts my heart is making,  
In ●his, and all good purposes, whereby  
I have been hopeful him to glorify.  
He warrants me I have no cause to fear  
These Lines the fruits of thoughts distempered are,  
Though some shall judge them such; since he whose mouth  
Doth speak the words of soberness and truth,  
May seem to those, who thought judicious are,  
As mad, as Paul, to Festus, did appear.  
He hath assured me, I cannot run  
This honest way, a course to be undone.  
He doth persuade me, that if I grow poor  
By doing well; my wealth shall be the more.  
He says, that if his glory I have sought,  
(And for no wicked purpose closely wrought)  
I shall no mischief, nor displeasure have;  
Nor any loss, by which I shall not save.  
He makes me centaine that my former pain,  
And this endeavour, some effect shall gain;  
Although it compass not that reformation,  
Which I desire to see in this our Nation.  
For though their present evils be not stayed  
From growing worse, by that which I have said;  
It shall to other times a warning give,  
And aggravate their faults who now do live;  
If, having such a plain Remembrancer,  
Their (called for) Repentance they defer.  
He bids me know, that though I am not Sainted,  
So much, as of all sin to live untainted,  
Yet▪ to oppose each Vice, as I am able,  
(In word and deed) it will be warrantable;  
And, that, to strike at Sin, 'twill all become,  
Though Persons may be touched but of some.  
He tells me, that (although the world shall please  
To term it railing, when such Messages  
Are uttered forth) it cannot bring me shame,  
To call gross Sinners by their proper name;  
And, that God's blessed Saints have done as much,  
Who aid the fol●ies of their age's tou●h.  
He wills me that on him I should depend;  
And, not distrust that while he me doth s●nd  
About his bus●nesse, he will suffer mine  
To be unprosperous, or my soul to pine.  
Since unto him that for his glory strives,  
The promise of all needful things he gives.  
He strengthens me, and gives me satisfaction  
Against all envy, malice, or detraction:  
Says, that a guiltless conscience needs not care  
How bitter or foul▪ mouthed others are:  
Persuades me, that if my repute be needful  
To honour him; he will, himself, be heedful  
To keep it fair: Else, glorify his Name  
The more, perhaps, by bringing me to shame.  
And, so the Name of God I glorify,  
I pleased am, though I have infamy.  
By these, and many other such like things  
Which God (I trust) to my remembrance brings,  
My fainting soul is cheered, when she droops;  
These, raise again my courage when it stoops:  
And though illusions these appear, to some,  
Yet, to approve of them a tim● will come;  
And, when that Day of trial, on shall draw,  
(Which I attend for, both with joy and awe)  
It shall be known, whose heart was most upright▪  
Or mine, or theirs, that in my harm delight:  
For, then their justice which a veil yet wears.  
Will shine like Phoebus when no Cloud appears.  
Thereof (just now) I have an earnest given:  
These Muse drew it (for me) down from heaven:  
I feel them warm my heart, and fetch again  
My chilled blood, to run in every vein.  
They rouse my spirits, and my drooping soul  
They so revive, that now I could control  
An host of Kings. For, now (ju●t now) the glowing,  
Of their kind ●eat, I find more strongly growing:  
Just now I feel in me their operation,  
To urge me forward to the consummation  
Of what my fo●mer Cantos have beg●n:  
And, Go● assisting that shall no● be done  
To thee oh London, I directed last  
My just reproof; And I will back●a●d cast  
An eye on thee again: For, off I broke  
My speech before my mind I fully spoke.  
I have not vented yet, what I could say  
Of many sins abounding at this day;  
As, thy intemp'rancy, and thy excess  
In food and raiment, thy loose drunkenness;  
Thy multitudes of beggars, which increase  
For want of orders, in thy Times of peace.  
Thy Sloth, Lust, Avarice, and all that rabble  
Of vices, and of things abominable  
Which in each corner of thy streets appear,  
As if they justly tolerated were.  
I touched not thy corrupted Officers,  
I have not mentioned thy Senators,  
Nor have I shown as yet what scandal grows  
To thee, and unto thine, by some of those;  
How partial, nor how ignorant they be,  
How prejudicial many times to thee,  
And to thy public weal, for private gain▪  
How cowardly thy Customs they maintain▪  
How ●eadily thy Freedoms they betray  
(If their promotions, it ought further may,  
Or spare their purses) This, I have not shown,  
For, what belongs thereto, is better known  
To others then to me. Yet, much hath been  
Of them reported; and I much have seen  
Of their condition, which deserveth blame▪  
Nor do I greatly wonder at the same▪  
But I, much rather marvel that in thee  
So many prudent Senators there be;  
Since, very few of all thy double dozen  
For Courage, wit or honesty are chosen.  
Wealth makes an Alderman (however got)  
If he be pleased to accept the Lot.  
In hope to gain his Fine, thou wilt adventure  
To let the most ignoble fellow enter  
That is but rich; and worthy men forgo,  
Who to thy Government, might ho●or do.  
Thou seldom carest how he did become  
So●●ch, if he but harrow up the sum  
Th●t makes him capable of such a place;  
Nor heedest thou, a jot, how base he was.  
No honest Occupations I contemn,  
Nor their professors; but I honour them,  
Though of the lowest order; If I find  
They have not lost the virtues of the mind,  
In those mean Callings; and, have sought as much  
In knowledge, as in money, to be rich:  
Yea, those (when from poor fortunes they ascend,  
To wealth) to honour also I commend.  
But, is it possible, that man whose mind  
To serve his Mammon only, was inclined;  
Or is it possible, the man that had  
By birth and breeding, nothing but a trade  
To get experience by; (and, that perchance  
●ome handicraft, which furthers ignorance  
In useful knowledge) or, that they who scrape  
And scratch together an unwieldy heap  
Of needless riches, by penurious fare;  
By sparing●esse, in what they should not spare:  
Or, which is worse, by cruelest extortion;  
By robbing others of their lawful portion,  
By rapine, guile, and such impieties;  
Is't possible (I say) when these m●n rise  
To wear thy skarlet-Robe; that they will be  
Or honour, or advantage unto thee?  
If those black Aeth●ops, if those Leopards, change  
Their spots, or colour, I shall think it strange:  
If ever they regard what weights be thrown  
Upon thy back, so they may ease their own:  
Or for thine honour stand (who have no sense  
Of any thing▪ but saving, and expense)  
I shall believe that Wolves will tend our Sheep,  
And greedy Kites, young Chickens harmless keep.  
I might have mention made of that report  
Which is divulged of thy Orphans court:  
Of those perpetual jurors, which for pay  
Attend judicial trials day by day:  
Of those Engrossers who thy trades abuse;  
Of those who make thy Freedoms and thy Deuce  
A damage to thee: and of other some,  
Who other ways injurious are become,  
I might have spoke; and would; but that I hear●  
They do already sound in every ear.  
Truth is, the spreading leprosy of sin,  
Into thy very walls have eaten in,  
And will not thence be scraped out (I fear)  
As long as there be stones, or mortar there.  
Thy Vineyard brings not forth wild grapes alone,  
In lieu of all thy God bestowed thereon;  
But, also, of itself prevents his curse,  
And hath produced what is ten times worse:  
Thorns, briers, nettles, hemlock, and such weeds  
As choke all pleasant plants, and fruitful seeds.  
No place, no person, calling, nor degree,  
Nor sex, nor age, is from corruption free.  
Within thy Chambers lodgeth Wantonness;  
Upon thy Board's is heaped all excess:  
With vomitings, they oft o'reflowed are;  
And, from uncleannesses no Room is clear.  
Thy Hals are daily filled with a rabble  
That stand and swear about a Shove-groat table.  
Within thy Parlours, I can little see,  
But visiting of Mistris-idle-be.  
Within thy Wardrobes, Pride lays up her store▪  
Upon thy Couches, Sloth dot● lie and snore.  
Within thy Pleading-Courts, are shameless railings,  
And, of upright proceeding, many failings.  
Thy Churches (be it spoke without offence)  
Are full of rudeness, and irreverence.  
Thou usest in thy Shops●alse ●alse weights and lying;  
Unpitied at thy Doors, the poor a●e crying.  
Within thy Closets, mischiefs are invented;  
Thy theatres a●e usually frequented  
Wit● perso●s dissolute: disparaged are  
Sometimes, the most deserving actions, there.  
There, see you may uncomely p●esentations,  
And often hear unchristian profanations.  
Yea, every corne●, every street, and p●th  
An overf●●w of sin, and folly hath.  
Am●ng thy Feasts, are surfeitings unclean;  
Vain curiosities, and songs obscene.  
Thy Merry meetings the procurers be  
Of most disorders that are found in thee:  
There, lawless games are used; there, are broached  
Vile slanders; and, good men are there reproached.  
There, they that a●e not good, are oft made worse  
By lewd examples▪ or profane discourse.  
And, few contentions have occasioned been,  
But, at such meetings, they did first beg●n.  
Thy Aged-folke are froward, avaricious,  
Self willed, and imprudently ambitious.  
The younger fort, are ●eadstro●g, rash, and haughty,  
Thy Children are forgetful of their duty.  
The men imperiously their power abuse,  
And counsel from their helpers do refuse.  
Thy women▪ too much dote on vain attire●,  
And are inconstant in their own desires.  
The Magistrates do bad examples give,  
And, as men borne but for themselves they live.  
Of persons, they retain too much respect:  
Their places, for their credits, they affect  
(O● for their gain) but n●t for conscience sake▪  
Inferior Officers, do also take  
The selfsame courses: and (in what they do)  
Are partial, cruel and unfaithful to.  
Few single-people live in chastity;  
In Marriage, there is much disloyalty.  
Perpetual suits, and quarrels I do see  
Among those Neighbour's, that sh●●●d loving be:  
No malice is like that which I have known,  
'twixt Brothers, when dissension hath been sown.  
Their practices, who friendship do profess  
(In my opinion) promise nothing less:  
For, all their form all kindness, oft is spent  
In visit, and fruitless compliment.  
And, all t●ey seek (for aught that I perceive)  
Is, how they one another may deceive  
In friendly Terme●; Or, how to do as they  
Who act the parts o● friendship in a Play.  
Thy Rich-men, do Idolatry commit  
With M●mmon, and Gods benefits forget.  
Am●ng the poor are many wicked things;  
impatiency, ungodly murmurings,  
Theft, scolding fightings, cursings, taleing, lies;  
And though they live by others charities,  
N● people will pursue each other so  
With malice and d●spig●t as they will do.  
At Doors and windows, Strumpets impudent  
D●e si●; and wanton gestures there invent  
To woe, by their allu●ìng provocations,  
Vain men to drink their Cup of Fo●ni●ations.  
T●y Suburbs, are the Coverts, and the den  
Wherein are sh●ltred many beasts unclean.  
Thy Taverns, are the places where most soul  
And heinous things are done, without control.  
There▪ drink they healths, till health is drunk away;  
And, nought ashamed are to let the day  
Be w●●nesse of their drunken vomitings,  
Brawls, ●eelings, rave, and such brutish things:  
Nay, to consume the day in drunkenness,  
A●d all the night, is nothing now, unless  
T●e Oboes, Cornets, Drum and Trumpet sound,  
To tell the neighbours how the healths go round.  
And when, according to their heathenish fashions,  
They offer up their devilish Drink-obla●●ons,  
What do they better than Idolatries,  
And Festivals, to Bacchus solemnize?  
In thee (beside thy proper faults) are found  
Those also which are common, and abound  
Throughout thy Kingdoms. And even thou, and they  
Have been companions in one evil way.  
We all, as in one Teeme, have drawn on sin;  
God's promises and threatenings mocked have been;  
The lust man's righteousness we have belied;  
And, sinners, in their sins, have justified.  
Of Good and Evil, we exchange the name;  
And, that, which to remember, is our shame,  
Or should with grief repented be; even that  
We tell with laughter; and make jests thereat.  
God's judgements work not on us; we are scourged;  
And yet, unto amendment are not urged.  
We break the sabbath-days, and we despise  
The Church's power, and her Solemnities.  
Her Holy-times to us are wearisome;  
And in our hearts, we wish the morrow come,  
That we might freely buy and sell again.  
Those Messengers we soon entertain,  
That of strong drink, and wine, do prophe●ie;  
And, Truth is not so welcome as a ●ye.  
We soothe our neighbours in their sinfulness:  
And (that their secrets, and their nakedness  
We may discover) we the wine bestow;  
Then, work upon then to their overthrow.  
Upon our lusts, the precioust things we spend;  
And unto God the Lame and Blind we send.  
We rob him of his Tithes, and his Oblations,  
Our public Fasts, are public profanations:  
For, even our prayers, our fasts, our alms, and all,  
Are oft for show, and hypocritical:  
And used more, our safeties to provide,  
Then that our Maker may be glorified.  
Our hearts against God's Prophets hardened are▪  
And what they preach or threat, we little care.  
The Land, throughout, because of Oaths doth mourn;  
We stagger in our paths; and to return  
To Egypt ready seem; unless God grant  
(●t our first longing) every toy we want.  
The blood of Innocents' hath spilt been  
Upon our skirts; most filthy things are seen  
Within our vessels; and, yet, some of us  
Presume to say (even to our brethren) thus;  
Stand off, for we more holy are then ye.  
And, these like smoke within God's nostrils be▪  
We stumble at noon day: and as the blind,  
We groap, uncertainly, the wall to find▪  
With Death, and Hell, a bargain we have made▪  
And, nothing for our hopes, but lies have had.  
If any Moral Verues do appear;  
With some unsavoriness they leavened are.  
If any do a kindness to his brother,  
It is in policy to get another:  
Or else, with some upbraiding, or vain boast,  
Whereby the comfort of the deed is lost.  
If ought be spoken to another's praise,  
It is some profit to ourselves to raise.  
If comfort to the grieved be pretended,  
The grieved party is as ill befriended  
As job: For, what we do is but for fashion;  
Without good meaning, wisdom, or compassion.  
If we instruct, we do it but to show  
That we much more than other men do know.  
If we our brethren's errors do reprove▪  
It is not as it ought to be, in love:  
But, with such bitterness as plain doth show,  
We more the person, than the vice pursue.  
We cann●t give an Alme●, but we must sound  
A trumpet: neither wall a rod of ground  
For public use: nor set a pane of glassy  
In some Church-window, where it needless wa●;  
Nor trim a pulpit, nor erect a style;  
Nor mend a foot path, though but half a mile;  
Nor, by the highway side, set up a stone  
To get a horseback; but we fix thereon  
Our Names, or somewhere leave upon record,  
What befactors we have been (good Lord)  
For such hypocrisies, and sins a● these  
On other places, doth Gods judgements seize:  
For these, thy Pastors oft have warned thee;  
For these, they said thou shouldst afflicted be:  
And, at this present, vengeance is begun;  
Though ignorant thou seem of what is done.  
For these offences, God did now of late  
Make all thy fairest lodgingss desolate.  
For them, the Pestilence continues yet,  
A●d we with scabs, and sores, and blames are smit.  
For them, thou of thy braveries unclothed,  
Wert in thy greatest sorrow, left and loathed,  
For them, a Famine lately did begin.  
For them, have goodly habitations been  
Consumed by fire. For this, the goods of some  
A prey to Seas, and Pirates are become.  
For them, thy trade fail, that were enlarged;  
And thou sor single gain, art double charged.  
For them, the Sword (that such a while hath hung  
Sheathed up) is newly drawn, and will ere long  
Devour thy sons and daughters; if there be  
No more Repentance than yet seems in thee:  
Ye throughout all this Island, it will rage  
And lay it wast before another age.  
For, not our ●ities only tainted are  
With sin's contagion; but even every where  
This Land is so diseased, that many doubt  
(Before it mend) some blood must issue out.  
There is not any Towneship, Village, Borrough,  
Or petty Hamlet, all this Kingdom through,  
But merits (in proportion) as much blame,  
As any City of the greatest fame.  
The simple seeming Peasants of the Land,  
(Who for their Names do make their sheepmark stanl  
And have not so much Clerkship, as to sp●ll)  
Can play the subtle cheating knaves, as well  
As m●ny cunning Sophisters; and cog,  
And lie, and prate of Law, and pettifogge  
As craftily (sometimes) as ma●y a one  
Who, diverse years hath studied Littleton.  
Yea, they who never had the wit to learn  
Those knowledges which honesty concern;  
Have witty craft enough to entertain  
Or plot a bargain for unlawful gain.  
They persecute each other▪ they envy  
Their neighbour's welfare, and prosperity;  
They drive each other from their tenements;  
And are the causes of inhauncing rents,  
By over-bidding (for their neighbour's Land)  
Those Fines the Landlords purposed to demand;  
Yet stand their Farms already racked so high,  
That ●hey have beggared half their Tenantry.  
In diverse towns they have decayed tillage;  
Depopulated many a goodly village;  
Yea, joined field to field, till for the poor  
No place is yielded, nor employment more:  
And, where were households, lately, many a one,  
A Shepherd and his Dog, now dwell alone.  
To make of griping Usury their trade,  
Among the Rich, no scruple now is made  
In any place: for, every Country Village,  
Hath now some Usury, as well as Tillage.  
Yea, they that lending most of all detest,  
Though but for tolerated Interest,  
Do nevertheless take those Annuities,  
Which often prove the biting'st Usuries.  
By nature, Money no increase doth bring:  
Most, therefore, think it a prodigious thing  
That Money put to lone, should bring in gain.  
Yet some of these, by practice do maintain  
As monstrous usuries, and nought at all  
Are touched in their conscience therewithal.  
In usury of cattle, or of Leases,  
We may disburse our money for increases  
More biting far, than those he dares to take,  
Who by mere lending, doth advantage make.  
As Money naturally produceth nought,  
So, by the Earth small profit forth is brought  
Until both cost and labour we bestow,  
For little, else, but thorns and weeds will grow.  
The Landlord, therefore, here I dare aver,  
To be no less a griping Usurer  
Then is the Money-master, if he break  
The Rule of Christian Charity, and take  
More profit than his tenant can afford;  
And such as these are hated of the Lord.  
Of Usurers, there are some other sorts,  
Who keep no certain place: but, both in Courts▪  
In Cities, and in Country towns they dwell,  
And in the trick of gripping they excel.  
There be of these, that Use for Silence take.  
Some others, an usurious profi● make  
Of their Authorities; and do advance  
Their wealth, by giving others countenance.  
Their carriages, their neighbours fetch, and bring;  
They have their seedtime and their harvesting,  
Dispatched almost for nothing: such as these,  
Are many of our Country justices.  
Some, by another engine profit catch:  
They must be prayed and paid for dispatch.  
Yea, Clerks, and many other Officers,  
Are greater, and more hateful Usurers,  
Then they that most a●e hated for that crime▪  
Since these do often for a little time  
(Which they delay unjustly) take what may  
Of no mean sum, the annual Interest pay.  
These men are cruel. And, yet worse by far,  
Most Treasurers, and their paymasters are.  
For, that which due unto us doth remain,  
They do not only overlong detain.  
But, oft, of every hundred, twenty take,  
ere payment of our own, to us, they make.  
They must have Bribes; their wives must have Caroches  
Or ho●se, or jewels; after which encroches  
Their servant also, for some other dues  
(As they pretend) which if we do refuse  
To pay unto them, twice as much we lose.  
This trick inricheth also ●eferres  
In Chancery, and in some other Courts  
And this or makes, or marreth most Reports,  
This, is that common Cheat, and means by which  
Mean Officers, so speedily grow rich,  
Although they give large Incomes. By this way  
Their wives do on a sudden grow so gay,  
That were but Kitchin-maid● few years before.  
Yea, many in the blood of Orphans poor,  
Have died their gowns in scarlet by such courses,  
And clothed, & fed themselves, with widow's curses.  
But, these Destroyer's, make not spoil of all▪  
For, ●ull as many into ruinefall  
By compliment, and foolish emulating  
Their neighbours; otherwhile, by imitating  
The City Fashions. Yea, by these, and some  
Such other ways, are many men become  
So wėake in their estates; that most of those  
Who live in fashion, and make handsome shows  
Of being rich, would prove (I am afraid)  
Far worse than nothing, if their debts were paid.  
This floweth from our pride, or from excess;  
And this is cause of other wickedness▪  
But, in our Island, one thing I have seen,  
Which (though it hath not much observed been  
To be a fault) will make a large addition  
To fill the measure of this Lands transgression.  
And much I am afraid, that all in vain  
I shall of this impiety complain.  
For, Avarice, who nought will give away,  
Whereon her griple fingers she can lay,  
Pleads for it: yea, and Custom hath so long  
Confirmed it, that, it is a lawful wrong▪  
I do not mean the Laities retaining  
Of Tithes, or Lands unto the Church pertaining.  
For, though I would not build my house with aught▪  
Which from the Sanctuary had been● c●ught,  
To gain the world, y●t, I may do amiss  
To judge of others Consciences in this.  
It is the barbarous usage, wherewith we  
Do entertain those men that shipwrecked be,  
Which here I mean: For, many people have  
Less mercy than the Tempest, and the wave.  
That Vessel, which the Rocks had pity on,  
The cruelty of man doth seize upon;  
And him that is oppressed, quite bereaves  
Of what the quicksand undevoured leaves.  
When some poor ship upon the billows tossed,  
Is driven by a storm upon the Coast,  
With rudder lost, with tackling rend and torn,  
With mainmast split, and foremast overborne;  
And reels and rowles, and takes in water so  
That all the Mariners through fear forgo  
Their crazy Charge, some swimming to the shores  
On pieces of the deck, or broken oars.  
Some on an empty Chest; some holding fast  
O● splinters of a Yard, or of a Mast;  
Now riding on the waves; strait sinking down▪  
Now hoping life, anon afraid to drown;  
Pu● off, and on; yet labouring to attain  
The Land, in hope more pity there to gain:  
I● this poor plight, when they (with much ado)  
A drier ●lement have ●ea●ht unto,  
And, wet and tired (both on feet and hands)  
Come creeping, or else staggering on the sands▪  
The neighbouring people (who in this are far  
More s●lvage, then most barbarous Nations are)  
In stead of bringing comfort and relief,  
Add new afflictions to their former grief,  
By taking that small means which is reserved  
To keep them living, when their life's preserved.  
Fo●, those remaining fragments of the●r store,  
Which God, sometimes, in pity sends ashore  
To help n●w cloth and feed them, till there come  
Some friends to aid them; or supplies from home;  
Even spoil of those they mak●: and of th● prey  
●o greedy are; that often when these may  
men's lives preserve, they leave them to their chance,  
In hope their death, their profit will advance.  
And, if that bruised- Bark which they forsaken  
(To save their lives) upon some Ouze hath struck,  
Or on some shelve; from whence, by timely aid,  
The goods to land may safely be convaid.  
Or if (as chance it may) the Hull be saved,  
Yet, thereof, is the Owner qui●e bereft.  
For, by a brutish Custom (which, I know,  
Nor Conscience, nor good Reason doth allow)  
Some Officer who farms the Royalties  
Within that place, doth make thereof a prize.  
Else, he that owns the Land whereon it falls,  
Doth seize it: and, his right, the same he calls.  
Pa●l did a people, even at Malta, find,  
(Although a barbarous Island) far more kind.  
Men wracked, they comforted; but we bereave them  
Of those remainders which the Sea doth leave them;  
Except some living thing abiding be  
Aboard the Ship. For, then the same is fr●e  
From being proved a wrack (we say) though that  
Which there surviveth, be some Dog, o● Cat:  
A goodly matter, surely, whereupon  
Poor men should be relieved, or undone.  
Some dw●llers, also, on those Borders, where  
Such woeful sights, too often viewed are,  
Rejoice to see them; yea, some people say,  
That, for such mischiefs, they both watch and pray;  
With curs●s, banning the●, who set up Lights,  
To guide the Seaman in dark stormy nights.  
And (though they ●eek it with a devilish mind)  
Gods-good, they call, what on the shore th●y find.  
Gods-gift, indeed it is, which unto them  
Do●h from the Seas, without an owner swim:  
Yet, when the master of it shall be known▪  
God's gift it is not; but a bai●, that's thrown  
To catch the souls of those, who seek to raise  
Their fortunes on distressed men's decays.  
No marvel, while such cruelties are found  
(Upon the Coast) the Sea o'erflows her bound.  
No marvel, she so often, here and there,  
Doth from their fields so many furlongs tear.  
No marvel she, sometime, their cattle drowns,  
And, sweeps away the rich●s of their towns:  
Or, of those people, otherwhile, devours  
So many households, in a few sho●t hours:  
For, since they grieved others, in distress,  
The Sea, to them, is justly merciless.  
Of many other things, complain I could,  
Which through this Kingdom, I amiss, behold:  
But, should I now an Inventory make  
Of each abuse, whereof I notice take  
In all professions; sure, it would go near,  
To find my Readers, reading for a year.  
I fear, our general Body fareth so,  
As, in the● sickness, they often do  
Who feel not their disease, when they are nigh  
(Without good help) upon the point to dye.  
They would not be disturbed; but, vex and fret,  
At those who do prepare them wholesome meat,  
Or needful Physic: and, perhaps, with me  
My Country, also, will displeased be.  
But, for unjust displeasure, 'tis no matter;  
As faithful friends (to sick men) will not slatter,  
Nor humour them in any such disease;  
No more will I be fearful to displease  
A sickly people, when I truly know,  
I do that work my Conscience calls me to.  
I tell thee therefore, Britain, thou art sick;  
Thy sins have made thee so; and thou art like  
To perish in them, if thou physic take not,  
And, for thy safety, good provision make not.  
If thou nor feelest, nor wilt ●redit give  
To what is spoken: Mark thou, and believe  
The Symptoms of it. For, they will declare  
So truly, how (at this time) thou dost far●,  
That they who are not reasonless, shall see  
And say (in times to come) I loved thee.  
Behold, even at this day, throughout the Land,  
Most Manufactories are at a stand;  
And, of those Engines, some main wheels are broke,  
Though where they faulty be, small heed be took.  
Thy Merchant's, by whose trade great profit comes  
(And, to the King's Exchequer, royal sums)  
Those M●rcuries, by whose industrious pain.  
Thou di●st become the Mistress of the Main,  
And art maintained with ships, which are the walls,  
By which thy temporal greatness, ●t●●ds, or falls.  
Even they, begin to sink, for want of trade,  
And through those boo●ies which of them are m●de.  
Their Ship● without advantage are employed;  
And if the Wars, or Time, had them destroyed  
Which are in being; they have (to augment  
Or fill the number) no encouragement.  
The present muster of thy shipping, fails  
Of what it was, in many scores of sails,  
Not long ●ime since: and, thy next neigh'bring nation  
Grows rich in thy decaying Navigation.  
Yea, some suspect, that of our public Trade  
(For private profit) sale to them is made.  
Indeed, ●ost Officers, if so they may  
Enlarge thei● profits, for the present day;  
Or gain, or save the King, but for a year,  
Some tho●●and●, do suppose they much endear  
Their service to the State: when ('tis well known  
To us abroad) the gain is most their own:  
And that, before two ages more be spent,  
The ways by which their incomes they augment,  
Will cost this Kingdom, for each ounce of gold  
So got, hundred, if their courses hold.  
It is by them, the Prince becometh poor.  
And (though they would be thought (forsooth) much more  
Than all his other subjects, to maintain  
The dues belonging to a Sovereign)  
They rob him more, than all men else beside:  
They lose him ten times more than they provide.  
They make him needy first; and then they grieve,  
And beggar them, that should his wants relieve.  
The vulgar Citizens' do much complain  
For want of tra●e sufficient to maintain  
Their families; and, many, lately broken,  
Are of that poverty a certain token.  
That famous and that wealthy Merchandise,  
Which from our clothings, and our woolly arise,  
Is much decayed. For work, the poor man prays:  
The Clothier hath not money; and he lays  
The blame upon the Merchant; who doth swear,  
His ships and goods, so often stayed are,  
And times so giddy, and so little got  
(With so much peril) that he dareth not  
To make adventures, as 〈◊〉 e●st hath done▪  
And, so, to ruin all is like to run.  
For, from their voyages so oft have some  
Been hindered (or have been so long from home  
In fruitfulesse services) that it hath brought  
Rich Owners, and their Vessels, unto nought.  
Some others, also find it, to maintain  
Their, shi●s so costly, (without hope of gain)  
That to repair them they do stand in fear  
It may undo them, ere things bettered are;  
That (might their men be safe) they do protest▪  
They know not, if to sink, or swi● were best.  
The winds and seas, that heretofore ha●e borne us  
Good will; have proved our foes, and 〈◊〉 & torn u●.  
Our Mariners are like to run away  
To serve our foes, for want of work▪ and pay.  
Those places, and those portion●, which belong  
To men's deserts; and should to make them strong,  
And to encourage them, conferred be;  
Are otherwise disposed of: and w● see  
The most deserving men are in disgraces▪  
Or else neglected; or else, in their places  
Impoverished (or else disheartened so)  
T●at some men will not; and some cannot do  
Their Country that good service which they might.  
And, if this hold, we lose our honour quite.  
By those adventures, which are just and free  
To every Nation, where good Patriots be,  
Thy sons, to fetch thee wealth, and honour home,  
Would prodigal of goods and lives become;  
By private cost, augment the public store,  
And by increase of shipping guard thy shore;  
If they might freely seek, and keep that lot,  
Which by their cost and valour might be got.  
But, men that are of courage, and of worth,  
Disdain their goods and lives to hazard forth,  
On servile terms; or, to be preyed upon  
When they return, by some ignoble Drone:  
And, by this means, oh thou unhappy I'll,  
Thy ●oes grow strong, & thou growest weak the while.  
I do protest, I see not that condition  
Of man, that hath a fortune in fruition,  
That is not perilsome; but, he that's borne  
The mischiefs of this present life to scorn.  
Nor from the highest to the low'st degree,  
Doth any man well pleased seem to be.  
The King complains of want: his Servants say,  
They stand engaged in more than they can pay:  
And they who in their person service do him,  
Want much of that which should oblige them to him.  
The charge of War, still more and more doth grow;  
The Customs fail as trading falleth low:  
There's new occasion every day of spending,  
And much more borr'wing, then good means of lending.  
'Tis said, some royal Rents to sale were proffered;  
That jewels of the Crown to pawn were offered:  
Tha● Church Revenues, for the present need,  
Sequestered are (to stand a while in stead  
Of temp'ralties) And▪ some themselves persuade,  
That, they shall now be lay possessions made.  
But, God forbid: for he that shall bereave  
The Church of her inheritance, doth leave  
A curse upon his children; which will stay  
Vn●●ll his whole descent be worn away.  
To help thy wants, (so great it seems they prove)  
There be of those who did not blush to move  
Religion might be set to ●ale; and that  
We might promiscuous worships tolerate.  
The common people murmur of oppressions;  
Of being robbed of their due possessions;  
Of impudent abuses, done by those  
Who should redress them: every wind that blows,  
Brings tidings of ill luck; yet, still men fear  
There's worse untold, then that which they do hear●.  
For, we have lying News authorised  
So long; and falsehoods, have so many spread;  
That, when of that a true report is told  
Whereof a firm belief receive we should,  
We cannot credit it: and, this, perchance,  
May to our safety be some hindrance.  
If in ourselves, we feel not what's amiss,  
Observe we, by ●eflection, what it is.  
The German Emperor, and two King's, that be  
As rich and powerful, every way as he,  
Are Foes pro●essed; and they bend their power,  
Our Countries, and our Nation to devour:  
And, while to fight God's battel●men do fain▪  
The Kingdom of the Devil they maint●ine.  
Our Friends, and our Confederates; for us,  
Engaged in undertake dangerous.  
Have suffered loss; and yet, in hazard are  
By an unequal and injurious war.  
Some, who possess an Union with our Land,  
Do work their own advantage underh●●d,  
To our disgrace and losses. Other some,  
Are neuters yet, who will our foes become,  
And with our enemies the spoil divide,  
If any ill Adventure shall betide.  
That princely Branch of our most royal Stem,  
Made poor by the Bohemian Diadem,  
(But, rich in her own virtues, and that trea●●re  
Of heavenly graces, which in plenteous measure  
God's bounty gave her) that illustrious D●me,  
(To whom I owe, even more than all I am)  
Lives banished, (oh! the mischiefs of this age)  
And quite excluded from her heritage.  
Her LORD, and all those dear and hopeful Pieces,  
Drawn off by them; the Nephews, and the Nieces  
Of our dread sovereign, are as pilgrims, fain  
Within a foreign Country to remain.  
Our costly Treaties, do but crossly speed.  
Our new Alliance, proves a broken Reed.  
Our foreign erterprises, full of charge,  
Do serve but others glories to enlarge.  
Our mighty Navies strongly furnished ou●,  
Have lost their pains, in what they went about.  
One little Town keeps all our Ports in fear;  
Upon the Seas, our Coasters scared are;  
And, we that bore the Trident of the Seas;  
We, who of l●te, with smaller Fleets, than these  
Which now we set afloat, did once constrain  
The Carraks, and the Argofies of Spain  
To strike their sails: we, that have awed the Deeps,  
And every Foreland, through the world, that peeps  
Above the Seas: yea, we that from each shore,  
Whereon the brinish waves of Neptune roar,  
Have brought rich Trophies of our valour's home,  
Now, back with neither spoils, nor honours, come.  
God, with our Fleets, and Armies, doth not so  
Go forth of late, as he did use to do.  
But, diverse years together, as offended,  
His arm against our forces h●th extended▪  
That hopeful Voyage, w●ich brave Raleigh made,  
To prosecute tho●e golden hopes he had,  
Was overthrown, and, (to enlarge the cost)  
In him, we more in wit, th●n money lost.  
For, to resist us, God himself did stand:  
And, st●ll against us, he extends his hand.  
Upon A●geir we had a fair design,  
That much extracted from our silver Mine,  
But▪ nothing prospered, which was then projected,  
Nor was there aught, but loss and shame effected;  
For, God preserved our enemies from harm:  
And, still, against us, stretcheth he his arm.  
When in Virginia we had nursed long  
Our Colonies, and hoped they were strong▪  
And, almost able to subsist alone:  
By n●ked people they were set upon,  
And, sore endangered: For, on us▪ fo● ill,  
God laid his hand; and lays it on us still.  
Auxiliary forces, forth we se●t;  
(Or, voluntarily from us they went)  
To settle on Bohemiahs' fatal throne,  
Him, whom that Land had cast her choice upon.  
But, there our men were wasted: and in steed  
Of Jacob's staff, we proved Egypts-reed:  
For, God against our powers his power did set;  
And, he his band doth raise against us, ●et.  
We made new Levies, and marched up the Rhine,  
To guard the Country of the Palatine;  
But, all in vain. For, nothing did we there,  
Except prolong the miseries of War.  
God, would not that delivered they should be  
By people that so wicked are as we.  
But, scourged them and us, in bitter wise;  
And, still, his heavy hand upon us lies.  
Then, mustered we Ambassadors together;  
We sent them oft, and almost every whither;  
But, by our Treaties we acquired nought:  
Nay, many disadvantages they brought;  
For, then, our foes for battle did prepare,  
When we of peace together treating were.  
Yea, God hath caused the h●rme that they have done us;  
And, still, his hand li●s heavily upon us.  
The fortune of the War we tried again  
By Mansfield; which did ●●kewise prove in vain.  
To Denmark also we did send supplies,  
And there, moreover, sick and bleeding lies  
O●r honour. And, yet still, against our Land  
The Lord of Hosts hath stretched out his hand.  
Throughout the Eastern Indieses where we had  
A wealthy and an honourable Trade,  
A petty Nation, doth now baffle, dare us,  
And, out of trading, hope e'er long to wear us.  
Our glorious Fleet, that lately braved Cales,  
Of her exploits affords not many tales.  
Another▪ and another too, since then,  
Was put to sea, and driven home again  
All shaken and betattered. Some, the wind  
Sent back, and frustrate made what was designed.  
Some others, were by other lets delayed,  
And, made to fail, in that which they assailed:  
For, God with this our Nation was offended;  
And, yet, his hand against us 〈◊〉 extended.  
Another Navy, worthy greater note,  
Then all of these forenamed, now doth flo●e  
Upon the seas: and such a fame it bears,  
That all the neighbouring kingdomed it deters.  
For, Land and Sea it threatens: and we hear  
Before the I'll of Ree, at road they are,  
Where they of brave achievements hopeful grow.  
I wish, and I do pray it may be so  
As they desi●e, if God be ●l●as'd therein.  
But, much I fear, that we have guilty been  
Of somewhat unrepented yet, that will  
Make all our undertake prosper ill,  
Till we are humbled more. For, God hath lain  
His heavy hand upon us, long in vain.  
And, though our hearts with foolish hopes we fill,  
His Arm, against us, forth he stretcheth still.  
Or else it could not be our forces great,  
So many times should suffer a defeat.  
●or when a lesser Fleet was sent to do  
A Mischief, it had power enough thereto.  
But let us take a little further heed;  
How ill our hopes in foreign parts succeed.  
The French and German Churches, in w●ose ca●e,  
And in whose persecutions we do share;  
Have been afflicted in a grievous wise,  
And still a heavy but then on them lies.  
God's foes, and theirs, and ours, have cras●ily  
Combined in a strong confederacy  
The tents of Edom, and the Ishma'lites,  
The seed of Agar▪ and the M●abites,  
With Ashur, and the sons of Lot conspire;  
With Gebal, Ammon, Amalek, and Tyre.  
Yea, Gog and Magog; close and open foes,  
E●'n all those Armies which Gods truth oppose,  
(And by the Names, here mentioned, figured were)  
Confederated, and resolved are,  
To pray upon us. Come, now come, ●ay they,  
Let's root their Nation, and their Name away.  
And, if our God be silent overlong,  
Their strength increasing, will increase the wrong  
His Church endures: our cause will be o'erthrown,  
And, they will take Gods houses for their own.  
If yet, thou dost not feel thy sickly case,  
Nor in these foreign glasses view thy face,  
Look home again; and I will show thee there  
More things, that worthy notice will appear.  
There, thou shalt find distr●ction in the State;  
The Commons, and some Nobles, at debate;  
The Court itself disturbed with disunions;  
Some following others; some their own opinions;  
Some striving, from their seats, their mates to thrust;  
Few knowing in who●e friendship they may trust.  
There see thou shalt most seeking the disgraces  
Of o●hers; and in all their fellows places  
Men so experienced, that they leave to do  
Those duties, they themselves are called unto.  
There, thou shalt see such foolish imitations;  
Such compliments; such gross ●issimulations;  
Such practices; such projects, and devices;  
Contriving o● such foolish paradises;  
Such doing and undoing, what is done;  
That, 'twill be matter worthy musing on▪  
Those Offices, and those high seats of State,  
(Esteemed mo●t honourable) are of late  
Become so skittish; or the men that get them,  
Such artless riders, that they cannot sit th●m.  
When lived, at once, so many, who did c●ry,  
(And left disgraced) the st●les of Secretary,  
Of Chamberlain, Chiefe-Iustice, Treasurer,  
Of Lord high Keeper, and Lord Chancel●r?  
Of these, and other ●itles, when was s●ene  
Such chopping and such changing, as hath been  
In later years? sure, something is amiss,  
That such uncertainty among us is.  
Those personages, whose words were heretofore  
As Oracles; are credited no more  
Than Cheaters are. Their hand & seal doth stand  
For nothing, if no other come in band.  
So void are some advanced to high place,  
Of common understanding, and of grace,  
That neither shame, nor loss, which doth befall  
To other men, can move them aught at all.  
But, as men marked for Vengeance, or else sent  
For thy dishonour, and thy punishment,  
They dare proceed t● practise every sin  
For which thei● predecessors shent have been.  
Nay, some who for corruption were removed  
To give those place, mi●ht well have been approved  
Respecting them; if all the people's cries,  
From just occa●ion may be thought to rise.  
Yea▪ they have justified, and honour done them,  
Who went before, in having overgone them  
In doing wrongs. And, in those wrongs they do,  
They are so practised, and hardened to,  
That no examples, or fair warning shall  
Ta●e place ('tis thought) till they have ruined all.  
Some Offices are grown so over large  
For those who undertake them, to discharge,  
Else, they that have them, so unable are,  
Or of their duties have so little care,  
Th●t suitors poo●e have many times attended  
Whole months together, ere they were befriended,  
So much, ●o have their humble suits perused.  
Yet, these, as if they had not else abused  
The Commonwealth enough, do often add  
To those employments which before they had,  
New Offices; and take so much upon  
Their feeble shoulders, that no good is done.  
If thou observest men's communication,  
Thou hear it shalt so full of desperation,  
As if they feared God had us forsaken,  
And, to some other place himself ●etaken.  
But, thou, indeed, his Covenant hast b●oke;  
His Word disinherited; his Commands forsaken;  
And, aid from Egypt, and from Ashur sought,  
Whose tru●●lesse friendship will avail thee nought.  
Nay, some there be, that in these days of evil,  
Advise to make atonements with the Devil.  
For, they do little better who would call  
The Turk●, to help maintain the Church's wall.  
Yea, they who make that Foe our aid become,  
Do save a hou●e, by firing Ch●istendome.  
The Land appears, as if ●t ripening were  
For Desolation: and even every where  
Most ●en are grown so prodigally vain;  
So greedily pursue they pre●en● gain;  
And, from this pleasant Kingdom have so rend  
Her woods, her groves, and every ornament,  
(Without all care of pla●ting, or renewing  
For their Posterities, in times ensuing)  
As if they either thought, or did foresee,  
That when they died▪ the world would ended be▪  
Or that, before the following generations,  
This Land should be possessed by other Nations.  
We have not power their counsel to receive,  
Who for our safeties best advisement give:  
For, in themselves, such baseness most retain,  
That, all are thought to aim at private gain.  
And doubtless we have many Mountebanks,  
Who arrogate the profit and the thanks  
Of others labours; or else seek to cross  
Their good designs, to their disgrace and loss.  
Yea, such extreme corruptions every where  
In men of every quality appear,  
That whatsoever reasons may be rendered,  
To prove that by some courses which are tendered,  
(To be proceeded in) the common peace  
Or profit might in future times increase,  
And be advanced, a million by the year:  
Yet, if but any private persons fear  
It may some income● f●om their chests withdraw,  
For which they neither Conscience have nor Law:  
These men (if they attempt it, and be able  
To give a bribe that may be valuable  
In any measure) quite shall overthrow  
That good designment: and not only so,  
But these and they that were their instruments  
Shall purchase him who that design invents,  
(For his reward) both infamy and hate▪  
And make themselves appear unto the State  
Good Patriots; who (being sifted well)  
Are scarce so honest men as go to hell.  
Rapt by a sp●rituall Vision, I have seen  
The thin and crazy wall, that stands between  
Our fight, and their concealed practices,  
Who have the place of Elders in these days:  
And spying there a hole, I digged into  
Their secrecies; to see what works they do.  
W●ere (not without God's warrant, and his aid)  
Most foul abominations I su●vaid.  
I saw their Chambers of Imagery,  
And all those Objects of Idolatry  
To which they bow, upon the walls depainted:  
I saw t●ose toys ado●ed and besainted:  
I saw what strange devotions there they use;  
How they in private do the world abuse▪  
And from their Censers seemed to arise  
A cloud which dimmed the Sacrificers ey●s.  
There (oh! good God) how many did I see,  
Who zealous Prelates do appear to be?  
How many Statesmen, and how many a one  
That ou● high s●ats of judgement si●s upon?  
How many who ●igh● honest men appear?  
In outward show how many drawing near  
Unto their graves? how many learned men?  
How many, that will stoutly now and then  
M●int●ine an honest cause, to some g●od end,  
(For aught we know) when they no good ●ntend  
How many ill-disposed men (oh! God)  
Who otherwise affected seem abroad,  
Beh●ld I there in secret prostituting  
Themselves to breathless Idols, and imputing  
Great power unto them? and how base are those  
Sometime i● private, who make goodly shows  
Of noblest thoughts? Some, to the rising-Sun  
Directly kneel; s●me, fix their eyes upon  
The Moon, which from his beams receives her light:  
Some, stand devoted to the works of Night:  
Some, deify their ●ride, and some their Lust:  
In carnal Policy, some put their trust:  
Some (as a Goddess) Vengeance do implore:  
V●●ighteous Mammon, othersome adore:  
With worldly Honour, some idolatrize;  
Some other, to their Nets do sacrifice:  
To Pleasure, many offer their estates;  
H●ms●lfe to En●y, one man dedicates:  
Another makes Vaineglories altars fume,  
Till all his patrimony he consume:  
A third, to Sloth and Idleness doth bow.  
Before Excess▪ a fourth doth fall as low:  
Yea, Horses, Dogs, and Hanks; even Beasts and Fowl●s,  
Are Idols of their love. Nor hath their Souls  
Idolatrized with brutish things alone,  
But, even with Gold, and Silver, Wood, and Stone.  
Nor have they only of such things as these,  
(That real be) set up vain images  
Within their hearts; but, they goe● further, far,  
And worship Fictions, which the likeness are  
Of nought in heaven, earth, sea, or in the waters  
Below the earth; but, mere fantastic matters.  
And, that by such l●ke Gods, as are their Treasure,  
Their Honour, their Preferment, and their Pleasure,  
They may be happy made; what things I pray,  
To show their zeal (suppose you) offer they?  
Even those, respecting which, these gods are vile.  
For, they do give unto them, otherwhile,  
Their natural rest and sleep; sometime their health▪  
Sometime what's due to God they take by stealth,  
To waste upon their Mammets; and of these,  
One ostred is, another to appease.  
Their beauteous daughters some of them have given  
To Moloch: other some their wives have driven  
To pass the fire: great numbers make oblations  
Of all their friends, to those Abominations.  
To serve them, some, their Country set to sale;  
Her love, her wealth, her honour, peace, and all.  
Yea some, even their own lives to loss expose,  
(Their consciences, and souls) for love of those;  
And (lest unto a reprobated sense)  
With Gods and Nature's Laws they can dispence●  
Of these, a Vision did appear to me:  
judge Readers, whether true or false it be.  
If no such doings be, my word● contemn,  
And let this Vision pass but for a Dream.  
If really thou find it to be so,  
Then think oh! Britain, what thou haft to do.  
But, think it seriously: for, things that are  
In foulest plight, will often f●ire appear.  
Bel●eve not all that shall reported be;  
But, prove and search; and trust what thou dost see.  
The Land is overspread with wickedness;  
Y●t, no man will himself in fault confess.  
Men daily talk how bad the times are grown,  
Yet, few men see an error of their own.  
The Country is distressed many ways,  
And on the City's pride, the blame it lays.  
The City finds her trading salleth short,  
And thinks the cause thereof is in the Court,  
The Court complains, and rails as much again,  
Against the Farmer, and the Citizen.  
Our Parliaments imputed have of late,  
Our troubles to some errors in the State.  
The State offended is, and discontent  
With some proceedings in the Parliament.  
Our Court Divines, protest the Lawyers stand  
So much upon the Customs of the Land,  
(The Laws and ancient Freedoms, which belong  
Unto the Commons) that, the King they wrong.  
The People vow, the Prelates flatter so  
To get preferment, that they will undo  
Both Church and Commonwealth; & some conceive,  
If we their State-Divinity believe,  
It will of every privilege bereave us,  
And no more Law, but Will and Pleasure leave us.  
And, as the jews, to save their Place, and Name,  
Did that, which loss of both of them became:  
So, thought it is, th●t if our Prelates fall,  
The way, they seek to stand, effect it shall.  
The followers of Arminius some revile,  
As troublers of the Churches of this I'll.  
Some think the doubts & questions they have moved  
Shall make the Truth more known, & more approved.  
The Papist says, that we afflicted are,  
Because their superstitions banished were.  
Som● Protestant's believe we fare the worse  
For favouring them; and that they bring a curse  
Upon the La●d. Some others, do accuse  
The Separatists, and those men who refuse  
Unto this Church's orders to conform.  
They, on the other side, as much do storm  
Against our Discipline and Hierarchy,  
As parts of Antichristian-heresie.  
And though we all are nought; yet, we do all  
Each other censure, persecute, miscall,  
And so condemn; as if we had no such  
Infirmities, as we in others touch.  
But, as her virtue may be ne'er the more,  
Who first, in scolding, calls her neighbour whore,  
So, he that soon check abuses can,  
(At all times) proveth not the holiest man.  
Even I, that in whole Volumes, do complain  
Against those faults, which in my times do reign;  
May be a Villain, when all that is done,  
If other signs of goodness I have none.  
But, why speak I of Symptoms, when all see  
Thy Sickness, to be evident on thee?  
Thou hast a fearful trembling at thy heart,  
And, a quotidian Fever shakes each part.  
Thine eyes do see thy flesh doth fall away;  
The lovely colour of thy cheeks decay.  
Thy veins grow empty, which did lately swell;  
Those parts are naked, that were clothed well:  
Those limbs are weakened, that e'er while were strong;  
And into groanings thou hast changed thy Song.  
Yea, thou mayst feel (unless that sense be dead)  
A pain between thy Body, and thy H●ad.  
The Staves of God, of which we read it spoken  
By Zachary▪ are bruised, if not broken.  
The Staff of Bands (or Union) hath some cracks:  
And, that of Beauty now so little lacks  
Of being shivered; tha● thou art almost  
The scorn of Christendom: and hast nigh lost  
Thy former glory. Neither art thou ●oly  
Despised and dishonoured, by thy folly;  
But in those mischiefs which thy sin● procure,  
Thy Prince a disadvantage doth endure.  
His virtues are repulsed from that height  
O● honour, whereunto ascend they might,  
Wert thou less wicked. He, whom as our eyes  
We seemed (as but yesterday) to prise;  
He, for whose absence we so much complained,  
And wept, and prayed, and vowed, whilst he remained  
Divided from u●: and at ●hose return  
We did so many ●iles to ashes burn:  
Even he, hath not received that content  
From us, which he expected, and we meant.  
Some spirit of Dissension loosed hath been;  
Some sparks of Discord have been hurled in,  
And blown among us; so that he and we  
Not so well pleased in each other be  
As both desire. And should this flame increase,  
God knows how much it would offend our peace.  
Thy Body, England, representative,  
Unable was prevention to contrive  
For such a mischief; neither dare men say  
(Although they could) on whom the blame to lay.  
Some, do accuse the Parliament; some blame  
Another Faction's; and, I doubtful am,  
Some rashly tax the King: but, to provide  
A judge, by whom such parties may be tried,  
Who knows (I pray?) or what is he that can  
Such points as these, without reproving scan?  
Nay, where is he, from faction or from fear  
So free, that (though he knew it needful were)  
He da●es presume in any public wise,  
So much as mention such State-mysteries?  
Yet, sure, ●hey must be mentioned; and they may,  
By those who know good Reason, and the Way  
Of so unfolding them, that no offence  
Be given; whatsoever be taken ●hence.  
And therefore, though such men who cannot see  
What calling at this present warrants me,  
Or, by what spirit I am urged to  
Those actions which I undertake to do;  
Though such conjecture may, that I presume  
Too far, and on myself too much assume,  
(Beyond my place) yet, in ●y self secure,  
I'll put myself their censure to endure;  
And all that peril, which the●e coward times  
Suppose may follow my truth-speaking Rime●.  
Direct thou so, oh God my hand by thine,  
That I in this may draw an even Line.  
For, no advice from carnal wits I crave:  
Nor any Counsellor, but thee, to have.  
My Prince and Country▪ though perhaps I be  
Not much to them; a●e both most dear to me.  
And may I perish, if to save my life  
I woul● betwixt that couple nourish strife.  
Or if for one of them I that would say,  
Which might from tother's due take aught away.  
If God direct me not, I may do ill  
In this performance; but, I know, to will  
And to desire their welfare, is from heaven  
(Even by his grace) to me already given.  
I may perchance in what I best intend,  
Have neither King nor People to my friend;  
Yet will I speak my mind to profit them,  
Though both should, for my labour me condemn.  
For, from all other ends and hopes I'm free,  
S●●e those, which in an honest man should be.  
If that which profits e●th●r I propose,  
They both shall gain, and neither party lose.  
But, if that harm shall by my words be done▪  
I'll weigh them so, it shall be mine alone.  
My censure I will give in things, which none  
Have da●'d to pass a public judgement on.  
Come, mark me, you who think I now begin  
To tread a path which I shall stumble in:  
And, if you see, what justly you may che●k;  
Trip up my heels, and make me break my necks  
Although we heed not▪ or else will not see,  
Those Maladies which daily growing be;  
I find (and I do much compassionate  
What I behold) a rupture in the State,  
Of this great Body. Lamed are the Feet;  
The Legs, that should support her, scarcely meet,  
For that gr●at structure which upon them stands▪  
The Sine●● are enfeebled; and, the Hands  
Unfit for action; deafened are her Ears,  
And what concerne● her most, she hardly hears.  
Her Eyes (which are her watchmen) are become  
Half blind▪ her Tongue is almost waxen dumb:  
It cannot speak the truth for her own wealth:  
Her Nose, that should distinguish, for her health▪  
'twixt things that wholesome, and unwholesome were,  
Hath lost that faculty: her Pulses are  
Uncertain: her Digestion is not good;  
And, that hath filled her with tainted Blood:  
Her judgement, and her Commonsense so fails,  
That she▪ herself perceives not what she ails:  
Her Spleen is stop●; and, ●hose obstructions make  
Bad fumings, which have caused her Head to ache.  
And He (alas) is bound about the Crown  
With cares, that make him bow his forehead dow●e.  
Thou art this Body, England, and thy Head  
Is our dread sovereign. The distemper bred  
Betwixt you two, from one of you doth flow;  
And which it is, I purpose here to show.  
Be bold to hear me Readers; for, in season  
I speak; and here's not felony, nor treason.  
In this that follows; to have power or aim  
To touch the Lords Anointed, I disclaim.  
I have no warrant; neither know I ought,  
To reprehend him for, although I might.  
And, they of my uprightness judge amiss,  
Who think I flatter, in affirming this.  
For, as my Prince's fault● I may not blaze▪  
So, I am also bound (as there is cause)  
To justify what virtues I do hear  
To be in him, or, see in him appear.  
The general faults of others, mine own eyes  
Have seen; and that's enough to warrantize  
A general reproof: but never, yet,  
In him beheld I, what did unbefit  
Hi● pe●son or his place: much have I seen,  
That, rather, hath an honour to him been.  
And, whatsoever shall muttered be of ●ome,  
There reigns not any King in Christendom,  
Of whom there was divulged a better fame;  
Or, whom a royal Throne so well became.  
And, what is lately done, to blot the story  
Of his desert? or to deface his glory?  
Or wherewithal can any tongue traduce  
His actions, which admitteth not excuse?  
What if his people have expected more  
(From hopes, by them conceived heretofore)  
Then yet succeeds? what can from thence redound  
To prove his Virtues or his ways unsound?  
Why may not this effect arise from them  
That so suspect, much rather then from him?  
As God long since unto those jews did say,  
(Who judged him unequal in his way)  
So say I England; is thy Sov'raignes' path  
Unequal? or is't rather thine which hath  
Such indirectness? wherefore may not all  
Which is amiss, by thine own fault befall?  
Why may not (England) a diseasednesse  
(Occasioned by thy unrighteousness)  
Make him unpleasing in his course to thee,  
Whom thou hast praised? and whose graces be  
The same they were? thou knowest many a one,  
In bodily diseases, thus hath done.  
Those meats and drinks, that are both sweet & pure,  
They can nor truly relish, nor endure.  
We seldom see the Bodies torment bred  
By aught which first ariseth in the Head;  
But, oftentimes we feel both head and eyes  
Diseased by fumes which from the Body rise.  
And though down from the head there may distil  
Some humour, otherwhile, which maketh ●ll  
The lower parts; yet, that first vapoured from  
Those crudities and noisome fumes whi●h come  
From ●ll digestion; or, from stoppages  
Which are in our inferior passages.  
'Tis thus in natural Bodies; an● the like  
May be observed in Bodies politic.  
The head and body both are evil pleased,  
When any part of either is diseased:  
But, their distempers, wo●se or easier are  
Sustained, as their fi●st occasions were.  
When Lungs or Liver doth defective grow  
By aught within itself, it pains not so  
The head, as when from thence doth also fall  
Those ●hew●●es and humours, that by tickling shall  
Occasion coughs and strainings, to distend  
The passages, as if each part would rend.  
Nor is the Stomach so distempered,  
By any hurt or bruise upon the Head,  
(By its own fault received) as when it ake●h,  
Through fumings, which from parts below it taketh.  
So fares it with a People and their King.  
Even all their errors, griefs and cares do bring  
Upon each other so, that what the one  
Misdoeth in, doth b●ing some smart upon  
The other party▪ But, they shall not be  
Afflicted with it, both in one degree.  
For, if the Prince's oversight or sin,  
Of any public Plague first cause hath been,  
The greatest mischief will at last be his.  
And, if the Subjects have so done amiss,  
That Vengeance follows it, the King may grieve;  
But, they shall be consumed, I believe:  
And, that for each ones personal defect  
The greatest harm will on himself reflect:  
What then to be performed is remaining,  
But, that we leave repining, and complaining  
On one another, and our labours bend,  
Ourselves, as much as may be, to amend?  
Let every one examine well his way,  
And, for himself, and for all others pray.  
For, this is far more likely to redress  
The present mischiefs, then o●r frowardness.  
The party that hath innocency, shall  
Be sure to stand, though all about him fall.  
And, if we all perversely wicked prove,  
We sh●ll have all, one judgement from above.  
If in thy King (oh Britain) ought amiss  
Appears to be; 'twixt God and him it is.  
Of him he shall be judged. What to thee  
Pertaineth it, his censurer to be?  
If thou shalt suffer with him; thy offence  
Deserved it; and nought else ●ut penitence  
Becomes thy practice; neither shall there aught  
That's wrong, by other means, to right be brought.  
Thy general voice, but newly, did confess  
In him much virtue, and much hopefulness;  
And, he so late assumed his Diadem,  
That there hath scarce been time enough for him  
Those evils to perform, that may in●erre  
A general mischief. Neither, do I hear  
Of aught, as yet, which thou to him canst lay,  
But that he doth to thee thy will den●y.  
Or with a gentle stoutness claim, and strive,  
For what he thinks his just Prerogative.  
And why, I prithee, may not all this flow  
From some corruptions which in thee do grow  
Without his fault? why may not, for thy crimes  
Some instruments of Satan, in these times,  
Be suffered to obscure from him a while  
The truth of things? and his belief beguile,  
With vert'uos shows, discreet and good pretences,  
To plague and punish thee for thy offences?  
Why may not God (and justly too) permit  
Some Sycophant, or cunning hypocrite,  
For thy hypocrisies, to steal away  
His heart from thee? and goodly colours lay  
On projects which may cause him to undo thee,  
And think that he no wrong hath done unto thee?  
Nay, wherefore may not some thy King advise,  
To that which seems to wrong thy liberties,  
Yet in themselves be honest men, and just,  
Who have abused been by those they trust?  
Thy wickedness deserves it: and that he  
Who in himself is good, should bring to thee  
No profit by his goodness, but augment  
Thy sorrows, till thy follies thou repent?  
For, what is in itself from evil free,  
Is evil made, to those that evil be.  
Why may it not be possible, that thou  
Demandedst what he might not well allow  
Without dishonour. Or, if all were right  
Which thou requiredst; yet the manner might  
Distaste him? Or, who certain is, but some  
(Pretending public grievances) might come  
With private spleen and m●lice, to pursue  
Those faults in others, which their conscience knew  
That they themselves were guilty of; and had  
No peace with God by true repentance mnde?  
If so it were, I do admire the less  
That thy petitions had a● ill success.  
If any single man hath aught misdone,  
It is so little while since he begun  
His being to receive; that, in respect  
O● thine, his errors could small harm effect.  
But, t●ou hast heaped up sin for many years;  
And, thy exceeding guiltiness appears,  
With so much evidence, that every man  
Of some particular faul●s accuse thee can;  
And, openly reprove thee, to thy face,  
For evils, done in every time, and place.  
Then, blame not him, if God hath falsified  
Some hopes, of late, or to thy grief, denied  
That reformation, which thou didst require;  
And added (in the stead of thy desire)  
New grievances. Nor too too bitterly  
Pursue those errors of infirmity,  
Which were by others, heretofore committed:  
But, let all past offences be remitted.  
If thou perceive but hope of reformation,  
Go offer up to God, for thy Oblation,  
A true forgiveness of their injuries,  
Who heretofore have wronged thy Liberties.  
And, do not this in policy (although  
The times now present may require it so:)  
But, so forgive, as by the God of heaven  
Thou dost desire thy sins may be forgiven:  
For, by thy faults, dishonoured more is he,  
Than thou by ●hei●s that have offended thee.  
And if to them thou true compassion showest,  
God will not urge, perhaps, the debt thou ow●st.  
Of Reformation thou dost show great zeal;  
But, some corruption mayst thou not conceal  
That mars the bl●ssing? A●● thou ●ure thou hast  
No just occasion given to distaste  
Thy King? Do thy complain all, intent  
The public welfare, without private end?  
And, in preferring them, didst thou commit  
No errors; nor no decencies forget?  
I will not say thou didst; but I do fear,  
That they who wisest are, in some things err▪  
Forgive me thou high Court of Parliament,  
If I shall utter what will discontent  
Thy disunited members, who have sat  
In former times, grave matters to debate.  
For, though I will not arrogate the wit  
To teach so great a Counsel what is fit;  
Nor censure any Act which thou hast done,  
When all thy parts have joined been in one.  
Yet, I will take upon me to reprove  
Their private errors, who in courses move  
Repugnant to thy justice; and oft be  
The cause of much dishonour unto thee.  
For, none (though thou art wise) can wrong thee aught  
To think, that thou hast members may be taught.  
And, as in pitched Battles, when bystanders  
Do apprehend mistake in Commanders,  
(As oft they do) 'twere better they should say  
What they observe, then let them lose the day:  
So also (though I may be thought too bold)  
'Twere fitter my experience should be told,  
Then that a public mischief should ensue,  
And I, in times to come, my silence ●ue.  
For, some (no doubt) will well approve the same,  
Though other some will think I was to blame:  
Yea, that which I will speak shall help, perchance,  
(In times to come) thine honour to advance:  
For, I will speak no more than what is due,  
And, what my Conscience bids my Pen to show.  
Thou art an honoured Counsel: but upon thee  
Such blots are cast, and so much wrong is done thee,  
(By some, who scarcely natural members be)  
That, as this Kingdom represents in thee  
Her Body; so, thou dost become likewise  
A representment of her Vanities.  
Yea, when at first, to be, thou dost begin,  
Thou art conceived, and made up in sin.  
For, to thy Ho●se of Commons, whither none  
Thou shouldst admit, excepting, such a one  
Whose life or knowledge that respect may draw,  
Which doth become the Maker of a Law;  
Too oft elected are, in stead of those,  
The rich, and them that make the greatest shows  
Of youthful gallantry; and, otherwhile,  
The veriest humorists of all this I'll.  
When choice was of thy Members to be made,  
Th●ir entrances, but little sign have had  
Of prosperous ends: for, they that should have passed  
A f●ee election, have their voices cast  
By force, constraint, or for some by-respect,  
On those, whom others, for their ends elect.  
There be in Court, and bordering round about  
Thy Burroughs, many wiser men, no doubt,  
Then some that in Elections have their voice;  
And, by their aid, there is sometime a choice  
Of good and able men: yet, best it were,  
That all men le●t to their just freedoms were.  
For, they to whom the Providence of heaven,  
The right of choosing Burgesses hath given;  
Are also by that providence (how wise  
Or foolish ere they seem in others eyes)  
In making of their choices so directed,  
As best may serve to make his will e●tected.  
And, though the same shall just as well be done  
By means of them who lawless courses run,  
Yet, not for their advantage, to the best,  
Who from their proper motions such things wrest.  
Why did the King from his Prerogative,  
To any place a privilege derive,  
But, that they might enjoy them? And, I pray,  
What conscience ties the People to obey  
Those Laws or Acts, in parliament concluded,  
By those that have by force or fraud intruded?  
What reason is it that a stranger should  
Entreat me to commit my best Freehold,  
To be disposed of, by some one, whom he  
Shall (for I know not what) commend to me?  
What man but he that modesty doth want,  
Can be so impudently arrogant,  
To sue by friend's, or lett●rs, pl●ce to take  
In such a Counsel▪ yea, and Laws to make?  
As if, because he hath a little pelf,  
He therefore might some Solon think himself,  
Or some Lycurgus? Or, as if he thought  
The Commonwealth would surely come to nought,  
Unless his knowledge, or his virtues, were  
Elected, to be exercised there.  
Whereas (God knows) too many do aspire  
To such employments, either through desire  
To show their wits; to gain some vain repute,  
Themselves, or friends to further in some suit;  
To keep off Creditors; or else, perchance,  
To entertain their curious ignorance  
With mysteries of State. Believe it, those  
Whose modesty forbids them to expose  
Themselves to be elected, I think far  
More apt for such employments than they are  
That seek them: a●d 'tis fittest that in all  
Such places, men should sit till they do call  
(Of their own will) to whom the choice pertains▪  
For, those God sends; and unto them he daignes  
Fit graces for the work. The other, haste  
(Moved by their own ambition) to be placed  
In that great Couns●ll, with a mind corrupt;  
Which doth dishonour oft, and interrupt  
Their best p●oceed●ngs. And from hence it is,  
So many things among us are amiss.  
Hence is it, so much time is spent about  
The searching of undue elections out.  
Hence is it, that in stead of persons grave,  
Such numbers of our Burgesses we have  
In those Assemblies, who come ●uffling ●n  
With habits which have far more fitting been  
For Theatres; then for the reverend  
And sacred presence of a Parliament.  
Thence is it that so many Children are  
Elected to have place and voices there;  
Yea chosen Counsellors, when hardly past  
Their Tutor's rod: believe me, this is haste.  
Although it might excused be, if some  
young men should thither for experience come:  
It is not tolerable, nevertheless,  
That many should admitted be: much less  
Those nonage Youths, to whom our Laws deny  
A power in things that smaller trust imply.  
Hence is it that sometime the very noises  
Arising from the multitude of voices,  
Foils Reason. This maintaineth also factions,  
And makes in plainest ma●ters great distractions.  
T●is, to those meetings much disturbance bring,  
And doth occasion many foolish things.  
Thence is it, also, we admit of those,  
In making Laws, who either do oppose  
Proceedings legal; or, protections g●ve  
To them that in contempt as Outlaws live▪  
I hold it not amiss, that they who spend  
Their time the public business ●o attend,  
Should have their servants from aresting free,  
Whilst they themselves in those employments be;  
Nor is it worthy blame, if they protect  
Poor Debtors, who endeavouring to effect  
Their Creditors contents (as they are able)  
And using time (in courses warrantable)  
For such a purpose; or else to prefer  
Complaints against some vile extortioner:  
Or to such ends. But, when they do by dozen●  
(To every prodigal, that cheats and cousins)  
Vouchsafe protections; yea, to those that are  
Mere strangers too; it worth reproving were:  
And, them who do it, I suppose unfit  
In places of Lawgivers there to sit.  
Moreover, an Election out of order,  
Doth other inconvenient matters further,  
Not mentioned yet. The party that is chose  
By suit, or ill-got favour, seldom goes  
Against his Choosers, if it chance that ought  
In opposition unto them be brought:  
Whereas▪ in such a case, each man is bound  
To be as if new risen from the ground  
He should not know his father, nor the son  
Of his own body: no nor any one  
O● all his near acquaintance, or his kin;  
Nor any that his friend or foe hath been.  
But, fix his eye upon the cause alone,  
And, do as that requireth to be done.  
Had this been practised, many a good conclusion  
Had followed more than did. Yea, much confusion,  
Much needless cost and pains, had been prevented;  
And, many had not gone so discontented  
To their own homes, when they with hearts o'regrieved,  
Besought the Parliament, to be relieved.  
For, if the●r causes (which but right had been)  
Their trials had received, as they came in;  
If no man might, by savour of a friend,  
Prefer new suits, b●fore all those have end  
Which entered are before; poor Suitors might  
Have hope of sooner compassing their right.  
Yea, spare much cost, and many months attending,  
To b●ing their endless business to an ending.  
For then, what day, or week, or month, at least,  
They should be heard, it partly might be gu●st.  
But private friendship shown at such a season,  
To work mere private ends, opposeth reason.  
It doth put off and on; and so employ  
One friend, another's friendship to destroy,  
(And, so delayeth him in his just suit,  
Who is of such acquaintance destitute)  
That, many a one whose cause deserved regard,  
Is quite undone, before he can be heard.  
Fo●, to attend three Sessions on a row,  
With Lawyers often feed, the cause to show,  
(Perhaps, a hundred miles, or two, from home,  
With witnesses which on his charge do come  
As far as he) may make a rich man poor,  
And, homeward, beg his bread from door to door.  
There also were (and they who came unsent,  
Are likely to be they that now are meant)  
Unwise, and undiscreet ones, mixed among  
Ou● Parliaments, who did those meetings wrong▪  
By controverting of Religion there,  
And moving questions that improper are  
To that Assembly. For, there is provided  
A Synod, wherein aught to be decided  
Such matters; and what they determine shall,  
Th● Parliament may ratify; and call,  
And censure those, who either shall proceed  
To cross or vilify what is decreed.  
But, we may blush to see, how much amiss  
Some stretch the Parliamental power in this.  
How, they do cause the weak offence to take▪  
And, say our Parliaments Religions make;  
How much the due proceedings hindered are,  
By spending time in such like mat●ers, there,  
To that high Courts disturbance; and how muc●  
The Commonwealth is damnified by such  
Impertinent, and overbusy wits,  
Who know not what the Parliament befits,  
And what the Synod. But, mistake not me,  
I do not think the Parliament should be  
Restrained so, as not to show her care  
That true Religion be maintained here.  
Far be it from my heart: I wish they should  
Religion to their utmost power uphold:  
But, my de●ire is also, that ●●ey further  
The Church affairs, in their own place and order:  
And that they would be pleased (as hitherto  
They gravely were accustomed to do)  
To check their busy Novices, who breed  
Much scandal when unwisely they proceed.  
For, though some threaten fearful things to those  
Who dare a Parliamental power enclose  
Within a Bound: yea, though some talking things  
〈◊〉, as if they might make and unmake Kings;  
Coin new Religions; yea, and Gods, for need;  
Yet, I shall never entertain their creed,  
Nor fear, when good occasion I have got,  
To say what may be done, or what may not.  
For, they who make that power or more or less  
Than ought to be, do equally transgress.  
This, many Members, a● some former sitting,  
Not heeding, or else overmuch forgetting,  
Have scandalised that Meeting; and made bold  
To run a great way further than they should  
In their discourse (if not when they have sat,  
Where they did matters publicly debate.  
Yea, 'tis the property of most of those,  
Who by their own procurement have been chose  
For Knights or Burgesses, to stand it out  
More boldly▪ and more obstinately slout,  
For some fond custom, then for what befitteth  
His justice who in such a Counsel sitteth.  
Of these they be, whose indiscretions bring  
So many discontentments to the King,  
Through want of more experience, or sound reason;  
Or by their urging matters out of season:  
And, such as these you easily may know  
From wiser men. For, thus themselves they show.  
If while a Session lasteth you shall chance  
To meet them, where themselves they do advance  
In some discourse; assure yourselves ye may,  
By their perpetual ta●ling, which are they.  
For, they ingr●sse the talk, w●ere ere th●y come,  
And speak, as if their lips nought flowed from  
But Apothegms; or, as if each cause  
They undertook should pass among the Laws.  
And, what another says, th●y'll ●o condemn.  
As i● a whole Committee spoke in them.  
In my poor judgement it doth much concern  
Our Parliaments, that those their members learn  
Mo●e silence: for, no sooner come they out▪  
But ev'rywhere they p●ate, and spread about  
The secrets of the House; and blast them so  
By their rank breathe, ere they ripe can grow▪  
That oft they perish, or are shaken from  
The tree, before the gathering time is come.  
In this, our Peers I have not quite excused▪  
Nor said, that no ill customs they have used  
In this great Meeting: For, the best have some  
Blameworthy things (no doubt) if all should com●  
To bide the censure: and, among the rest,  
The voice by P●oxi▪ hold I not the least.  
For, unto me, it doth unfit appear,  
To give my voice, until the cause I hear.  
Who knows the hearts of other men so wel●▪  
Or, of their judgements, who the depth can tell,  
So punctually, that (whatsoever shall  
Proposed be) he trust them should in all?  
Our own affairs (though wisdom sayeth nay)  
To other men we absolutely m●y  
Refer to be determined on: but, that  
Which doth concern the gen●rall estate▪  
It were injustice, and a thing unfit,  
To others, at adventure, to commit.  
For, most Selfe-lovers are; and we do know▪  
That many public injuries may flow  
From this one root; I will not say they do,  
Although I think I might affirm that too.  
Thi● Custom seemeth ancient: and (if tol●  
The truth may be) as evil as ti● old:  
And▪ from what cause soe'er it first did flow,  
It wa● n●t fr●m the firs● beginning so  
Nor, should old precedents (grown out of season)  
Be followed, for their age, by m●n of reason:  
Nor will this custom last, p●rchance, when they  
Who may remove it, well the same shall weigh●.  
For, I perceive it useful to no end,  
But indirect proceedings to befriend.  
And, they whose courses are m●st indirect,  
Are they that will such customs most protect.  
If this▪ and other errors yet unnamed,  
Had well been heeded: some had more been blamed,  
Some less: some highly praised, who have seemed  
unactive Mem●●rs, and been disesteemed.  
Yea, thou hadst ●●lt most grievances amended  
●'re this; and many troubles had been ended.  
But now (what faults soe'er concurring be  
In others) those defects that were in thee  
Oh! England, were sufficient to procure  
Those perturbations thou dost yet endure.  
Thy ove●-soone forgetfulness of that  
Great Pestilence afflicting thee of late;  
Thy thanklessness for Gods admired ceasing  
That strong contagion▪ and the new increasing  
Of thy transgressions, since his mercy daigned;  
Deserveth mo●e than thou hast yet sustained.  
Yea, that which thou wert overseen in there,  
W●ere thy Assemblies congregated were  
To rectify thyself; even th●t, alas!  
Sufficient to deserve these t●oubles was.  
And therefore, whensoe'er thy Sovereign shall  
Be pleased, for thy help again to call  
In such a public Meeting; let, in God,  
Thy Knights and ●urgesses (now spread abroad)  
Collected be: and, let not any f●om  
Thy B●rroughes, by und●e election come▪  
Let Lords and Ladies letters, to such ends  
Move none▪ but only, witness who are friends  
To base corruption. Let their suits be scorned,  
And, no respect unto them be returned.  
Le● every one of those that shall be sent  
To represent thy Body; represent  
Thy true repentance. Let them lay aside  
Prejudicated opinions, faction, pride;  
And (to their utmost) in themselves restrain,  
All those enormities which they retain:  
That, setting to their own desires, a law,  
They may the more enabled be to draw  
A Rule for others. Let all they that come  
To serve the Public, leave such thoughts at home  
As merely private are: for, in them lu●ks  
An enmity to all good public works.  
Let none propose in such a Congregation,  
What is not first prepared by consultation,  
For otherwhile, their precious hours are spent  
About a needless trifling argument:  
And, oft, from matters of least moment spring  
Those disagreings which great harm ●o bring.  
What their forefathers unto them did leave,  
Let them not suffer any to bereave  
Their children of. For, they m●y that deny  
Even to th●ir King, provided, loyally  
They do it, in ●esi●ting his demands  
By legal Pleading; not by force of hands.  
It ●s as Naboths' Vineyard; and, to live  
He merits not, who doth repine to give  
His life to save it: yea, accursed is be  
That would not zealous in those causes be.  
Let them, therefore their ancient rights maintain,  
By all just means: and let them yield again,  
The royal dues. For, those things prosper not,  
Which are, amiss, ●●om God, or Cesar got.  
All wrongs shall be revenged: but none brings  
Such vengeance, as the wrong to God, and Kings.  
If but in word alone (nay, but in thought)  
We have against our Prince committed aught  
Which is disloyal, hid it shall no● lie,  
But, be revealed by a winged-spy.  
Let▪ therefore, all just freedoms of the Land,  
That can be proved, ●orth in public stand;  
And not in old Records (half smothered lie)  
In danger to be lost by casualty;  
Or else embezel'd; or, by worms and dust  
To be devoured: or, by those we trust.  
Let us not whisper them, as men that fear  
The claiming of their due, high treason w●re.  
Nor let us (as we do) in co●ners prate,  
As if the sovereign power, or the State  
Encroacht injuriously; and so defame  
The government: disgrace the royal Name;  
And nourish, by degrees, an evil spirit,  
That us of all our peace will disinherit.  
But, let us, if we see our ancient right  
Infringed; bring our grievances to light,  
Speak loyally, and orderly, and plain,  
Those things which for our own we can maintain:  
So, Kings the truth perceiving; and their ends  
Who did abuse their trust, will make amends  
●or all our sufferings: giv● our foes their doom;  
And make us more secure for times to come.  
But, bring not, when ye come to plead with Kings,  
(Against their claims) some bare conjectu●ings:  
For, what thou hast no centaine evidence  
To be thy right: the right is in the Prince.  
It is a royalty, to Monarches due,  
But, if for any Freedom, ye can show  
A Law enacted; or, a Custom old,  
Or Precedents, that have not been controlled  
(As often as produced) ye may lay  
Your claire; and keep it, every lawful way.  
Each Precedent, and every Demand  
Which doth from time to time opposed stand,  
Concludeth nothing This, let ●ach man heed,  
And with a conscionable awe proceed  
In such affairs Let pure humility,  
True piety, true love, and charity,  
Be brought along And, when all these ●e bring,  
Then go with loyalty and m●et your King,  
In his and your affairs without mistrust:  
And then (as certainly as God is just)  
In every due request ye shall prevail,  
O●, gain some great advantage, if ye fail.  
Desire of God to teach and guide you so,  
That in this narrow path you strait may go.  
If you would have a King be just to you,  
Be ye upright, and to his honour true.  
Yield first to him, i● every fit demand,  
And, long capitulating do not stand,  
On what you may determinate with speed.  
Because perhaps, delay may danger breed.  
Afford him his requests, unto you● powers;  
Be his the fault, if he denieth yours;  
Or if miscounselled he shall re●u●re  
What shall his weal oppugn, or your desire.  
Go cast yourselves before him with submission;  
Present him with petition on petition.  
With one accord, and with a fearless face,  
Inform him how much hindrance, or disgrace,  
Or danger to the Land there may accrue,  
If He your loyal counsel shall eschew.  
For, God because his laws we disobey,  
Us at our Sovereign's feet doth mean to lay,  
To humble us a while. If we repent,  
To all our loyal suits he will assent.  
If otherwise; God will give up this Land,  
Our lives and freedoms all into his hand.  
Go offer, while to offer you are free;  
And what you give him, shall peace-offrings be;  
If that which for atonement you provide,  
With love and penitence be sanctified.  
The world against our State doth now conspire;  
Intestine dangers also, do require  
That we in concord should united be,  
And to supply the Kingdoms wants agree.  
Lest while we st●ive, and fond froward grow,  
We be surprised by our common foe.  
Unwise is he that in a dangerous place  
Doth stay to wash a spot out of his face,  
When Outlaws he approaching hairs, that may  
His body wound, or take his head away.  
If I should hear a Lion near me roar,  
I'd arm myself, though I with wounds were sore,  
And what I had not leisure then to cure,  
Would seek to heal, when I of life were sure.  
In times of trouble all must look for crosses;  
And they must ●eare, who cannot shift their losses▪  
There may be smart by what we s●ffer shall;  
But, better smart, than not to be at all.  
When I do think a blow my head may harm,  
I'll ward it off although it break mine arm;  
For, though my arm be lost, yet I may l●ve;  
But, on my head, a blow my death may give.  
I am not so besotted, as to think,  
We ought to give the wanton pall at drink,  
Until the head be giddy, (left it may  
Bring all the body headlong to decay)  
Nor praise I them that are so over-wise,  
To spare what shall be needful to suffice  
The general want (although to needless ends,  
Some private h●nd, the public wealth dispends)  
This, only, is the scope of my petition,  
That all be done with love, and with discretion.  
For, we must understand, that m●ny things  
Which are not just in us, are just in Kings;  
And, that it is a kind ●f trait'rousnesse,  
To give them more than due, as well as less.  
They, who deny the King free power to do  
What his republics weal conduceth to,  
Because some Law gainsays; even those deprive  
Their sovereign of a due prerogative;  
Since, for the common good, it just may be,  
That some injustice may be done to me,  
Or any few. Moreover, men that say  
Kings may do more, then of true right they may,  
And that no law doth bound them; make a King  
And him that is a Tyrant, all one thing.  
In my opinion, these men are like those  
Who in sweet meats, a poison do enclose  
That kills a twelvemonths after. 'tis as though  
We should affirm, that God may evil do  
If so he please. It is a needless power  
That serves for nothing, but to help devour  
The owner. Yea, it is as if we ●hould  
Prepare our friend all instruments we could,  
Wherewith if he should sick, or foolish grow,  
He might have means himself to overthrow.  
And they who to themselves this power do take,  
Do silken halters, and gilt poniards make  
For their own throats: or, Nero-like to kill  
Themselves, with poisons, golden viols fill.  
For, though a righteous King will never stray  
From what is just (though none with hold him may)  
Because he to himself becomes a L●w;  
Yet, vicious Princes, thence, occasion draw  
To perpetrate that Act which them deprives,  
O● kingdoms, lives, and all prerogatives.  
And they that were as wise as Solomon,  
Or as upright as David, being gone,  
May leave a son or grandchild, as did they  
Whose wilfulness shall cast t●n Tribes away.  
And, then, their traitorous couns●ll curse he will,  
Who told him, he had power of doing ill.  
For, though such Counselors may think they do  
Their Sov'raignes' honour, and much pleasure too,  
In over straining their Prerogatives;  
Yet are they to their Honour, States and Lives,  
Egregious traitors; since a plot they lay,  
Whereby thei● Princes shall themselves betray  
To th●ir own follies (if they vicious grow)  
Yea, by this means they l●nd a poisoned blow  
To King, and Realm; which while the traitors live,  
Will ea●e to some Impostume seem to give,  
Or cure a wart, upon the body bred,  
And, fester to the heart when they are dead.  
Abhor ye these; and do not favour th●se  
That would their King mor● narrowly enclose  
Th●n shall be honourable, or befits  
His Majesty that as God's Viceroy fits.  
When he compelled by necessities,  
Requireth of his people due supplies.  
They must be had: although some oversight,  
Forepast, may make it seem to wrong the right  
And freedoms of the Land▪ We are not bound  
To keep a Privilege, that shall confound  
Both us and all our L●berties. They have  
No blame, tha● yield up what they cannot save  
Without a greater loss: nay, wise is he  
That serves on● day, to be for ever free.  
Your Wisdoms may, at ease, a course invent  
To ple●se the King yet make no precedent  
To future tim●s, from whence there shall arise  
Infringement of our lawful Liberties;  
Or to our Cause reproach: an●, to be taught  
You need not, ●f together you were brought,  
According to the freedom of e●ection:  
For, no man then would need my poor direction.  
But, th●re shall full be some th●t will intrude,  
And I for their instruction, am thus rude.  
Some cry, The Land is poor, and cannot give.  
'tis poor indeed: and yet I do believe  
Few Kingdoms are so rich. ●is poor become,  
Respecting that innumerable sum  
O● our arreared Repentance, yet unpaid.  
'tis poor, if all our virtue should be weighed  
With what is wanting: or, if we compare  
Ou● Worthies, living now, with such as were.  
'tis poor, if we on those reflect our eyes,  
On whom the labour of this K●n●dome lies:  
Those people, whom our great and wealthy ones  
Have racked, oppressed, and eaten to the bones,  
To fatten and ado●ne their carcasses;  
The Land (I must confess) is poor in these.  
Nay, if we should consider, what a rate  
The richer sort among us liveth at;  
How many needless ways they do enlarge  
(Without all temperance) their yearly charge:  
And how each one his humour to enjoy,  
Doth emulate his friend in every toy.  
Or, were it heeded well, how out of measure  
Some waist their fortunes on a wicked pleasure;  
Even (otherwhile) for that which for a bubble  
Of Mirth, doth bring them half an age's trouble:  
Or, were it well observed what beggary's,  
What shifts, what baseness, what necessities,  
This brings on those that richest men are thought:  
What costly suits and troubles it hath brought;  
And how indebted and ingag●d they stand  
To one another quite throughout the Land.  
These things, I say, considered, well we may  
Affirm this Realm is beggarly: and say  
The rich are poor. But, he this I'll belies  
Who taxeth it of other poverties.  
Yes, he or blinded is, or maketh l●sse  
(To God's dishonour) out of wilfulness,  
His matchless bounty. What one Kingdom, yields  
Through Europe, in barns, granards, stalls, and fields,  
Of cattle and of Corn, in every kind,  
More plenty, then among us, yet we find?  
Where do their Gardens or their Orchards bear,  
More fruits, for food or physics then are here?  
Our Sheep, fine wools enough afford us do,  
To clothe ourselves, and other nations too.  
And, by their golden fleeces bring in sums  
As la●ge, as any that from India comes.  
Our B●es do gather honey from our flowers;  
Our Meads are fruitful by our April showers.  
Within the Land rich Minerals do lie;  
Our Air hath Fowl, in great variety.  
In stately Palaces, we do abound;  
With many Towns▪ our hills and dales are crowned:  
In woods, and groves, this Kingdom hath excelled,  
(And, some yet stand though most of them are felled)  
Fair Ports we have▪ sweet Rivers, and the Sea●  
Surrounding us; and wealth comes in by these.  
Our fruitful waters fish enough doth yield  
To feed us, though we had nor Grove, nor Field.  
Yea did we riot less, and labour more,  
Our Fish alone, would feed us all at shore.  
If yet, this Kingdom needy seem to be,  
Go look upon her Cities, and there see  
And mark, their costly Piles, their precious wares,  
What choice, and store of rarities appears  
Within their Magazines. Observe their state;  
Their clothes, their jewels, furniture and plate;  
And tell me, if they do not signify  
That there is far more Pride, than poverty.  
Gold, silver, pearls and diamonds do glare  
And glitter in your eyesight, every where.  
Himself disgraced the meanest Cobbler thinks,  
Unless his Beer and Wine in Plate he drinks,  
And eats in silver. Yea, the poorest ones  
Must of that mettle have their bowls or spoons:  
On every thing, almost, pure gold is spilt.  
The meanest instruments are hatched, or gilt.  
Their Servants, in their garments are as gay,  
As if that all the week's were Holy day.  
Their Feast are abundant, and their pleasure,  
Maintained is not, with a little Treasure.  
But, Cities are the Treasuries you'll say,  
Wherein the Kingdom's riches up we lay  
Survey the Country then, and tell me where  
The rustic villages replenished are  
With such fair booties. Other Kingdoms have  
Their Cities, peradventure rich and brave,  
But in their scattered Villages, we see  
That few or none, save Peasant's dwelling be,  
Possessing nor good house, nor household stuff,  
Nor comely Clothes, nor wholesome food enough.  
Our Farms are stored with useful implements  
Enough to purchase all the tenements,  
And Lands in many foreign Realms, that are  
As large as this our Country doth appear.  
Of iron, and of brass enough have we  
To buy their gold. Our pewter should not be  
Exchanged for their fi●v●r; if all were  
Summed up, that's found with every Cottager:  
Nay, there be many houses in this Land  
That in remote obscurity do stand,  
Which to the Foe would yield a richer prize  
Than many Townships which they might surprise  
On other shores: And yet, some do not shame  
With poverty, this Island to defame.  
WAR threatens us; and we of want complain,  
Not knowing how our safeties to maintain:  
Yet we do nothing want that may conduce  
In war or peace, to serve a needful use.  
Arms, victuals, men, and money we have store;  
Yet, still, we falsely cry that we are poor.  
We are so greedy, that we will not spare,  
To save the hog, one farthing worth of tar.  
God's blessings we so long time have abused  
That now we know not how they should be used.  
Or else we think each other so unjust,  
That no man knows with whom the means to tru●t.  
Oh! pray to God, to take away the cause  
Of these distempers; and to break the Maze  
In which we wander. For, like those we fare,  
Who sitting at a banquet, starved are.  
If we had peace with God, and could agree,  
This Kingdom which so needy seems to be,  
Might with her superfluities maintain  
Far greater armies, than the King of Spain,  
With all his Indies. We might beggar him,  
And make all who fear him, to contemn  
His winning projects; if we had but eyes  
To see and take the course that open lies.  
It is his gold increasing his ambition,  
Which to the Christian world will bring perdition:  
And if prevention longer we delay,  
(Or if we do not find a better way  
Then yet is trod) the current of his power  
Will grow so strong, that it will all devour.  
For, w●ere a stream runs broad, and swift, to stop  
His fury there, I see but little hope.  
Materials both for war and peace, must come  
To him from diverse quarters; for at home  
His Country yields him little. But the year  
As it renews, with us, reneweth here  
Our food and raiment; and though no supplies  
Come in, a staple of Commodities  
Our Island is, which both in war and peace  
Will still be in request, and still increase.  
Let therefore those who on t●e Continent  
Do fear him, use their utmost to prevent  
His greatness there; and let our Sea-girt Isle  
(Forbearing on Land forces for a while,  
To spend their strength) entirely bend their power,  
(As in preceding times) the Seas to scour:  
For, with more profit, and a lesser charge,  
That shall our lost advantages enlarge,  
And, make his Armies, which are now so strong,  
Draw ba●k, decay, and mutiny, e'er long.  
Were we resolved our course this way to bend,  
Of our main stock we needed not to sp●nd  
One moiety. For, half of what is lost,  
Within this Kingdom (saved) would quit that cost,  
Let all, according to the port they bear,  
Forbear but one vain Feast in every year:  
Let every household, for the public wealth,  
(Which also would advance the body's health)  
Fast but one meal a week, and separate  
The price thereof, for service of the State:  
Or spare from their full boards of fl●sh or fish,  
The dressing, or the sauce, but of one dish:  
Le● us but lay one lace or guard the less  
Upon our Cloaks; or save the co●●l●nesse  
In our apparel, which we well might spare,  
Yet, no defect upon the same appear:  
Let us ●ese●ve but half the ●ithe of those  
expenses trifled ou● in games and shows;  
Which do not only needless charge increase,  
But still the kingdom full of idleness:  
O● these, and many other such expenses,  
(Which wast our wealth, and multiply offences)  
I● we but part would give; perhaps, that cost  
Would save our lives, and all, from being lost.  
Tobacco (which the age that went before,  
Nor knew, nor needed) doth expend us more  
Than would maintain an army: for, few think  
How much there is consumed in smoke and stink.  
Pride is so costly, that if every Girl  
Should give t●e worth but of one lace or pearl,  
Which trims her Cross cloth, it would sails provide  
●or half the ships which now at Plymouth ride  
H●d we but every forfeiture that's due,  
●●om those of our notorious drunken crew;  
Or, ●f the value were together got,  
Although but of their twentieth needless pot,  
I am persuaded it afloat would set  
A greater Fleet than we have armed yet.  
The very Oaths which we may daily hear,  
(The men, the women, and the children swear)  
If thundered forth together; would roar louder,  
●hen all our Cannons: and, great shot and powder,  
Much more than would at ●ea and land suffice,  
Might purchase be, by half the penalties  
Which might be justly taken; if we had  
Regard to execute the L●wes we made.  
God grant that of his honour, and of what  
Concerns the general safety of the State,  
We m●y mo●e zealous grow; and that some course  
May stop that mischief, which ye● waxeth worse.  
And th●t f●om this, or from some better light,  
The means of ●eformation tak● we might:  
Of which I hopeful am, and that e'er long,  
Our Commonwealth shall sing a sweete● song.  
When such ● time I see I shall be sure  
T●es● Lines, oh! England, will thy love procure;  
And, I who for thy weal this pains bestow,  
Shall find more favour than 〈◊〉 for now▪  
Yea, then shall I t●at yet have been despised,  
●ewa●led dye; o●, li●e much better prized.  
But not till then: No● shall I live to view  
Thy sorrows ended, ● thou do not ●ue  
Thy sins with speed▪ Oh! the 〈…〉 he  
To turn ●o God, ●hat he may t●rne to thee.  
B●s●●ch him, England, to unclose thine eyes,  
And let thee see in what thy sickness lies.  
●mplore thou him to mollify thy heart,  
Thy Children from their f●llies to divert,  
And, break tho●● chains of ignorance and sin▪  
Which at th●s present thou liest fettered in.  
Endeavour to be friends with God again:  
And, he will all thy furious foes restrain●.  
Thy faulty members, who do now disturb  
Thy peace; he either will remove or curb.  
Those G●ces thou perceivedst heretofore  
Adorn thy Sovereign, shall be hid no more  
By those dark fogs which from ●hy sins do rise,  
For, God will take the scales from oft th●ne eyes.  
On thee, his countenance again ●hall shine;  
That thou mayst la●d him in a Song divine:  
And, th●y who now lament thy ●ad ●st●te,  
In Hym●es of joy shall praise thy happy Fate.   

The eighth Canto.  

Our Poet having ●oucht again  
Wh●t frailties in himself remain,  
D●cl●res, th●t many Plagues do steal  
As well on Church, as Commonweal:  
Rel●tes wh●t crotchets do possess  
Some, who Religionsn●sse profess:  
W●at noisome plants, what tares and weeds,  
A●e sprung, ●o choke the holy seeds:  
Wh●t failed zeal, and affectation,  
H●th fooled this formal Generation:  
And, how from some, great scandal grows,  
Who ●eare the keys, that bind and lose.  
Next, he delivereth Predictions  
Of plague, of sorrows and afflictions,  
Which on this ●●and will descend,  
Unless our manners we amend.  
And, whensoever civil j●rs,  
Or mischiefs, by the rage of wars,  
Oppress this Realm; his Muse doth show▪  
Who shall occasion it; and how.  
Which fearful judgement to prevent,  
He calls upon her to repent:  
By ●en apparent signs, hath shown,  
God's patience nigh expired is grown:  
Then, for the Publike-wea●e, he prays:  
Then, for himself; and, there he stays.   
I Do not wo●der, as I e●st have don●,  
That when the Prophet jonas should have gone  
To N●niveh, God's word he disobeyed,  
And would himself to Tha●sus have conveyed:  
For, I have now a sense how flesh and blood  
The motions of the Holy Ghost withstood,  
And feel (me thinks) how many a likely doubt  
The Devil, and his frailty, found him out  
He was a man (though he a Prophet were)  
In whom no little weakness did appear:  
And, thus he thought, perchance, What shall I do?  
Astrange attempt my heart is ur●ed to:  
And, there is somewhat, earnestly incites  
That I should hasten to the Ninivites,  
And, preach, that if they alter not their ways,  
Their time of standing▪ is but forty days,  
My soul persuadeth God enjoins me to it;  
And sle●pe in peace, I cannot▪ till I do it:  
B●t common Reason striveth to restrain  
Th● motion, and p●rswade● me tis in vain.  
I● saith, I am a sin●er▪ and so frail,  
That, many times, my best endeavours f●ile  
To rectify my s●lfe. How shall I then  
Be hopeful of reclaiming other men?  
To Isr'el ● have threa●ne● many years'  
Gods judgements: yet, no fruit thereof appearesses  
Although the, hav● some knowledge of the Lo●d,  
And are within his League, they slight ●is word:  
What hope then is there, that a he●then Nation  
Will prove regardful of my exhortation?  
The style of Prophet, in this land I carry,  
And such a Calling, here, is ordinary;  
But, in a foreign State, what warranty  
Have I, to publish such a Prophecy?  
How may th● King and People take the same,  
If I shall in the open streets defame  
So great a City? and, condemn for sin,  
A place wherein I never yet have been?  
If I shall say, the Lord comm●nded me:  
Then, they perhaps, will answer: What is he?  
For, they profess him not. Nay, some suspicion  
They may conceive, that I to mo●e sedition  
Am sent among them. Or, if otherwise  
They sh●ll suppose; how can they but d●s●ise  
My person, and my counsel, who shall from  
So f●r a place, som●ere a stranger come,  
That no man knowe●, or what or who I am,  
Or from what Countr●, or from w●om I came?  
Such thoughts (belike) delayed▪ and feared him so;  
And, so the Spirit urged him still to go  
For N●niveh; that nor to go, nor stay,  
Could he resolve: but, fled another way.  
From which rebellious course, God fetched him back  
With such a vengeance, that he did not lack  
Sufficient proofs, how Reason did betray him,  
And, in his Calling▪ causelessly off ay him.  
Yea (mark heavens providence) though Io●as went  
Another way, it crossed not God's intent,  
But furthred it. For, doubtless, ere he came  
To Niniveh, the miracle and fame  
Of his Deliverance, was s●nt before;  
And, made his preaching work on them the more.  
Now, though I do nor arrogate, nor dare  
Myself (except in frailties) to compare  
With blessed jonas: yet, I may be bold  
To say, o●r Causes a resemblance hold▪  
My heart (and when that moves, as one avers,  
It more prevails then many Counsellors)  
My heart (I say) persuaded me e'er while,  
To read a warning Lecture to this I'll.  
And in such manner moved; that, to say  
It came from God, me thinks, be bold I may.  
Yet, my own natural frailty, and the world,  
Among my thought so many doubtings hurled,  
That every step had rubs. I leveled some  
In my last Canto. Yet, I could not come  
To even ground, till I had overtopped  
Some other Mountains which my passage stopped.  
Beware, said Reason, how thou undertake  
This hazardous adventure, which to make  
Thou hast resolved. For, this wise age denies  
That God vouchsafed any Prophecies  
Concerning them; or, that the application  
Of aught foretold, pertaineth to this Nation.  
She saith, my Constancy is no true si●ne  
That God first moved this intent of mine▪  
Since Heretics, and Traitors oft are seen  
As bold in all their causes to have been  
As Martyrs be. And, that for what they d●e▪  
They can pretend t●e holy ●p●●it too.  
And she persuades, 'tis likely I shall pass  
(At best) for on● that much deluded was  
She saye●, moreover, that if these times be  
Indeed, so wicked, as they seem to me,  
I shall in stead of moving to repent,  
Nought else but stir their fury, and be rend  
Perhaps in pieces, by their hasty ●●age.  
For, what's more likely in a wicked age?  
When people in their sins grow hardened once,  
She says I may as well go talk to s●ones,  
As tell them aught. For, they are in the dark;  
And, what they see and hear, they do not ma●k.  
She urged that the Prophets in old times  
Did speak in vain against the people's crimes;  
And if in them their words bega● no faith,  
Much less will such as mine, my Re●son saith.  
She tells me also, that this I'll hath store  
Of Prophets, and of Preachers never more:  
She says that thou●● 〈◊〉 calling none suspect,  
Their pains appear to take but small ●ffect●:  
And, if suc● men authorized as they,  
Do cast their words, without success, away;  
In vain my Muse (whose warrant most contemn)  
Doth seek to work more piety in them.  
A t●ousand things unto the like effect,  
Yea, all and more than any can object,  
(Who shall peru●e this Book) my Reason brought  
Before me, and objected to my thou●ht.  
And, as a Pilgrim (who occasions hath  
To take some extraordinary path)  
Arrival making a●a double way,  
Is doubtful whether to proceed or stay:  
So fared I; I was nigh tired quite,  
Before I could be c●rtaine of the right.  
Yea, 'twixt my doubts, and all those replies  
Which in my meditations did ari●e;  
I so amazed grew, I could not know  
Which way it best befitted me to go.  
But, at the last, God brought me thorough all  
My doubts and fears, as through the Storm & Wha●●,  
Once jonas came: That so, all they, who are  
Ordained for their good, these Lines to hear,  
The more may profit, when they think upon  
What straits I passed, ere this work was done:  
To that intent my frailties I h●ve so  
Insisted on, as in this book I do.  
Yea, I am hopeful also, they that read  
These lines of mine (and mark with how much heed  
And Christian awfulness, my heart was won  
To censure and reprove as I have done)  
Will plainly see, these Numbers flow not from  
Fantastic rashness; nor from envy come▪  
Nor spring from faction; neither we 〈◊〉  
By their distracted zeal, who (knowing not  
What Spirit guides them) often are beguiled  
With shows of truth; and madly have rev●led  
Both good and ill: and whose unsavoury Rhymes  
Defames men's persons more than che●k their crimes.  
Dishonour Kings; their sacred names blaspheme;  
And having gained some notions in a dream,  
Or by report (of what they know not well)  
Desire their giddy thoughts abroad to tell:  
In hope to merit: as in deed they do,  
Sometime the pillory, and gallows too.  
I trust, I say, these lines will seem no such;  
Or, if they do, truth is▪ I ●are not mu●h,  
Because I certain am what power infused  
Those matters, whereupon I now have mused:  
And know, that none will these or me condemn,  
But they whose rage and follies I contemn.  
Yet, that they may be sure I neither care  
Who censures me, nor what their censures are,  
(When honest things I do) here, somewhat more  
I'll add to what is mentioned before:  
And give thee, Britain, a more perfect sight  
Of thy distempers, and thy sickly plight.  
Yea, thou shalt know, I have not seen alone  
A bodily Consumption ste●ling on,  
And was●ing of thy Temporalties▪ but, that  
I also have discovere●●f late,  
A Lethargy upon thy soul to steal:  
And that as well the Church as Commonweal  
Doth need a cure. Oh! do not quite neglect  
The good of both; but▪ one (at least) respect.  
Though judah's sicknesses unheeded be,  
(Although thy temporal wounds afflict not thee)  
Yet▪ look on Zion: yea, behold and see  
Thy Spiritual●ies▪ how much impaired they be.  
The Church's Pa●●●mony is decayed;  
And many a one is in her spoils arrayed:  
Those Patrons (as we term them in this age)  
Who of her Dowries have the patronage,  
Do rob and cheat her, many times of all;  
And, their Donations basely set to sale.  
Those Canaanites, whom thou preservest here,  
(And by thy laws to be expelled were)  
Are in thy borders now so multiplied,  
That they are thorns and thistles in thy side.  
They are become a Serpent in thy path,  
Which bites unseen; and nigh unhorsed hath  
Some able Riders. On thy Places-high  
Thy people do commit Idolatry▪  
And rear strange Altars. In thy Fields are found  
Those cunning harmful Foxes to abound,  
That spoil thy Vines. And, some I have espied,  
'twixt whose opposed t●les, are firebrands ●y'd,  
Which waste thy fruits. Thy Ha●v●st seems fai●e;  
But secret blasting● do so much impair  
And blite the Corn; that when it come● to bread,  
Thy Children oft unwholsomly are fed.  
Men use Religion as a stalking-horse  
To catch preferment; yea, sometime to wor●e  
And base uses they employ the same;  
Like that bold Harlot, who quite, 〈…〉  
Did of her Vows, and her Peace of●●ngs make  
A sin, lascivious customers to take.  
Yea, some (resembling him, from whom was cast  
One Devil) when one sin they ●ave displaced▪  
Of which the world took notice, sweep a●d ●l●nse  
Themselves (in show) from a●l thei● other si●s;  
Yet secretly, let Satan repossess,  
And foul● them with a sevenfold wickedness.  
An universal dulness will ●enu●  
Thy senses, if thou do not soon become  
More heedful of thy state, than thou a●t yet:  
For, every pa●t hath ●elt an ague-fit.  
Thy Academs, which are the famous places  
In which all pious knowledges and graces  
Shóuld nourished be▪ and whence thy chief supply  
Of Teachers, com●, (as f●om a Nursery)  
Even those fair ●ountaines are much tainted grown,  
With doctrines hardly found, which thence are blown  
Through every quarter. In their Schools are heard  
Vain ●●ggs and janglings, worthless of regard.  
The ●very Pulpits, and their Oratories,  
Are Stages, whereupon their own vainglories  
Men often act. Yea, many a vain conceit,  
Is brought in stead of arguments of weight:  
And (which is worse) disorder is so rise  
Among them; and the weeds of evil life  
Have so o'regrowne those Gardens, that (unless  
Good government shall speedily redress  
That spreading mischief) it will overtop  
The plants of Zion, and destroy her crop.  
To be thy Shepherds, Wolves are stolen in▪  
And, thou hast those who even by day begin  
To sow their Tares among thy purest Se●d;  
And, with mixed Grains thy Lands pollution breed.  
For hire and money▪ prophesies the Prophet:  
The Priest do●h preach, to make a living of it,  
Even merely for a living; and, ●ut few  
Th●ir holy charge, for conscience sake pursue:  
W●ich I by many signs could make apparent,  
But t●at it is not yet within my Warrant.  
Loq●untur C●rae leves▪ little Cures  
Do 〈…〉 preach, whilst poverty endures.  
Ing●nt●s s●upent; but, large livings make  
Our Doctor● dumb: condemn not my mistake:  
For, though I do the Lat●ne sentence wrong,  
That's true I tell ●ou in the Engl●sh●ongue ●ongue.  
Our N●tion, which of l●te profaneness ha●ed,  
Is in that sin almost Italianated.  
The Scriptures without reverence are used:  
The ho●y phrase, in jestings▪ is abused:  
To flout, or praise, or cu●se, we ●an apply  
Gods holy word, most irreligiously:  
Instead of Emblems, moving thoughts divi●e,  
The filthy pictures of lewd Aret●ne,  
Are found in many Closets. Foolishlies,  
Profane and most lasciviou: Elegies  
Are public made. Yea, those whom heretofore  
A heathen Emperor did so abhor,  
That he▪ for them, their wanton Author sent  
To undergo perpetual banishment:  
Even these, we read; and worse than those, by far,  
Allowed pass, and unreproved are.  
Nay, their vain Authors often cherished be:  
At l●●st, they have the favour to go free.  
But, if a graver Muse reprove thei● sin,  
Lord, with what hasty zeal they call it in!  
How libellous they make it! and how vile,  
Thou knowst; and at th●ir fol●y thou dost smile.  
Full war●ly, the politic Divi●e,  
(Who should allow it) scanneth every Line  
Before it pass; each phrase he doth suspect;  
Although he findeth nothing to be checked,  
He fears to Licence it And if by chan●e  
It pass abroad, forthwith doth ignorance  
Mistake or misapply; and false and bade  
Constructions are, of good expressions made.  
Yea, they who on the ●ea●s of judgement fit,  
Are o●t, most ready, to miscensure it.  
I would they were as forward to disgrace  
Those Author's, who have filled every place  
With fruitless Volumes. For dispersed are  
Even qui●e throughout this Island every year,  
Even many thousand Reams of scurrile toys,  
Songs, Rhymes and ●allads, whose vain use destroys  
Or hinders Virtuous knowledge, and Devotion.  
And this we do to f●●ther the promotion  
Of our Diana. Yet, behold, if we  
To publish some few sheets required be,  
Containing pious Hymns, or Christian Songs,  
Or aught which to the praise of God belongs:  
We do so fear the hindrance of our gain,  
That like th' Ephesian Silversmiths, we feign  
A great complaint. As if to have enlarged  
A little Book, had grievously o'er charged  
The Commonwealth. Whereas if it were weighed,  
How much o● late this Land is overlaid  
With trivial Volumes: ●r, how much they do  
Corrupt our Manners, and Religion too,  
By that abusive matter they contain;  
I should not seem unjustly to complain●  
These times do swarm with Pamphlets w●ich be far  
More dangerous, then mortal poisons are  
Even in thos● books, whereby the simple thought  
To fi●d t●u● knowledge th●y their Bane have caught:  
For, thence, strong Heresies (there b●ing hid  
Amid some doubtless Truths, a while unspid)  
Steal out among the people, by degrees;  
More mischief working then each Reader sees.  
And, so, to ruin knowledge▪ that is made  
An instrument; whereby it raising had  
For (by their lucre, who the Church's peace  
Disturb, their private profit to increase)  
Tho●e Doctrines which are unauthori●ed,  
Are so promiscuously divulged, and spread,  
Among approved Verities; that some  
Are in those Labyrinths amazed become:  
And▪ such a Contradiction is in that  
Wh●ch their confused Pamphlets do relate;  
That, Common Readers, know not which to leave,  
Nor, which the Church of England doth receive.  
And, f●om this mischief many others flow,  
Which will, in future tim●s, more harmful grow.  
This, spins vain Controversies to their length;  
By this, most Heresies receive their strength.  
And what distraction it already makes,  
Our grieved Mother woeful notice take●.  
In stead of active knowledge, and her fruit▪  
This filleth men with itching● of dispute,  
And empty words; whereby are set abroach  
A thousand quarrels, to the Truth's reproach.  
The Sectaries, the Monkeys, and the Apes,  
The Cubs and Foxes, which do mar o●r Grape●;  
The Wolves in sheepskins, and our frantic rabble  
Of Worship-mongers, are innumerable.  
And, as the Churches quiet they molest,  
So they each other spitefully infest.  
We have some Papists: some that half way go:  
Some Semi-puritans; some▪ w●olly ●o;  
Some Anabap●ists; some, who do refu●e  
Black puddings; and good pork; like a●rant I●wes:  
Some also termed Arminians are among  
Our Priests and People, ve●y lately sprung.  
What most, so called, profess, I stand not for:  
And what some say they teach, I do abhor▪  
●ut, what som● other, so misnamed, believe,  
Is that whereto best Christians credit give.  
For, as we see the most reformed man,  
By Libertines, is termed ● Puritan:  
So (by our purblind Formalists) all those  
Who new fantastic crotchets do oppose,  
Begin to be mistermed Arminians now.  
And, hence e'er long will greater mischiefs grow  
Then most imagine. For, the foolish fear,  
Lest they to be Arminians may appear,  
Or else be termed Puritans, will make  
Great multitudes Religion quite forsake.  
And, I am half persuaded, thi● will on●  
Of those great Schisms (or earthquakes) cause which 〈◊〉  
Foretold in his Apocalyps; and they  
Are bl●st, who shall not thereby fall away▪  
Some Brownists, and some Familists have we;  
And some, that no man can tell what they be;  
Nor they themselves. Some, seem so wondrous pur●  
They no men's conversations can endure,  
Unless they u●e their plaster, and appear  
In every formal garb which th●y sh●l● w●are▪  
The●e be of those who in their words de●y,  
And hate t●e practice of Idolatry,  
Yet make an Idol of their form●l● zeal,  
And underneath strict holiness', c●nceale  
A mystery of evil, whi●h dece●ve● them,  
And, when they think all ●a●e in danger leaves th●m▪  
Their whole Religion, some d●e pla●e in hea●i●g:  
Some, in the ou●w●●d action o● forbearing  
Ill deeds; or in well doing▪ though the heart  
In t●at performance bear ●o ●eall pa●t.  
Some othe●s, of th●i● mo●●ll action, make  
Small conscience: and, affirm that God doth take  
No notice how in body they transgress,  
If him they in th●i● inward man confess:  
As i● a soul b●loved could reside  
Wit● in a body quite unsanctifi●e.  
Some, not contented in t●e ●ct of sin,  
Are grown ●o impudent, that they begin  
To justify themselves in wickedness;  
Or, by acquaint arguments, to make it less:  
And, by such Monsters, to such ends as this,  
The Christianliberty defamed is.  
N●w fangledness, Religion hath o'erthrown;  
And, many as fantastical are grown  
In that as in apparel. Some, delight  
In nothing more than to be opposite  
To other men: Their zeal they wholly spend  
The present Government to reprehend;  
The Church's discipline to v●lifie;  
And rail, at all, which pleads Antiquity.  
They love not peace: and therefore have suspicion  
Of Truth itself, if out of persecution:  
And are so thankleffe, or so heedless be  
Of God's great love, in giving such a free  
And plenteous means of publishing his word,  
That, what his Prophets of the jews record,  
Some verify in us. Much praise is given  
To that blind age, wherein the Queen of heaven  
Was worshipped here. And, falsely, we extol  
Those Days, as being much more plentiful.  
Some, at the frequency of Preaching grutch,  
And, tired with it, think we have too much:  
Nay, impudently practise to suppress  
That Exercise, and make our plenty less.  
And, that their doings may not want some ●ayre  
Or goodly colour, they do call for Prayer,  
In stead thereof; as if we could not pray,  
Until our Preaching we had sent away.  
As these are foolishly, or lewdly, wise▪  
We have some othe●s wantonly precise.  
So way wardly disposed, amidst our plenty,  
And through their curiosity, so dainty;  
That, very many cannot w●ll dig●st  
The Bread of life, but in their m●nner dressed.  
Now will God's Manna, or that measure serve  
Which he provides; But, they cry out they starve,  
Unless they feed upon their own opinions,  
(Which are like Egypt's Garlic and her Oynions)  
Some like not Prayer that's extemporary▪  
S●me love not any t●a● s●t fo●me 〈◊〉 ●ary.  
Some think there's no devotion, but in those  
That howl, or whine, or snuffle in the no●e;  
As I that God vouchsafed all his Graces  
For ●●ined gestures, or for sour faces.  
Some think not that the man, who gravely teacheth,  
Or hath a sober gesture when he preacheth,  
Or gentle voice: hath any zeal in him,  
And therefore, such like Preachers they contemn.  
Yea, th●y suppose that no man's doctrine saves  
The soul of any one, unless he raves,  
And roars aloud, and flings, and hurleth so  
As if his arms he quite away would throw;  
Or overleap the Pulpit; or else break it:  
And this (if their opinion true may make it)  
Is to advance their voices Trumpetlike▪  
A● God commands: yea, this (they say) doth strike  
Sin dead. Whereas, indeed, God seldom goes  
In whirlwinds: but is in the voice of those  
Who speak in meekness. And it is not in  
The power of ●oyse to shake the walls of sin:  
For clamours, antique actions, writhed looke●▪  
And such like mi●●micke Rhetoric none brooke●  
That hath discretion: neither doth it move  
The heart of any, when we so reprove;  
Except it be in some contrary motion,  
Which interrupts the hearers good devotion.  
The well affected Christian pities it;  
It makes profanest men 〈◊〉 naught to set  
God● Ordinance. Mee●e morell men despise  
Such affectation: much it ter●●ies  
The ignorant: but very few srom thence  
Receive sound knowledge, or ●ive penitence.  
Some relish nothing, but those points th●● are  
In controversy: some would nothing hear  
But songs of Mercy; some, delight i● none  
But Sons of Th●nder; and sc●rc● any one  
Is pleased in what he hears. Nay, of th●i● Preachers,  
M●cha●●●k arrogate to be their teachers.  
Yea most of us, what 〈◊〉 our Pastor says,  
Keep sti●l ●ur own opinions and our ways.  
To hear and know God's word, to some among  
Our Nation, seemeth only to belong  
To Clergymen; and, their implicit Faith  
Is built on what the common rumour saith.  
Some others filled w●th curiosity  
Affirm that every several mystery  
Within God's Book included, doth concern  
Even each particular Christian man to learn:  
Whereas they might as well affirm, each guest  
That is invited to a public Feast,  
Is bound the several dishes there to heed,  
And upon every meat b●fore him feed.  
Nay, some have almost this imagination,  
That there is hardly hope of their salvation▪  
Who speak not Hebrew. And, this now adays,  
Makes foolish women, and young Prentices  
To learn● that holy Tongue▪ in which they grow  
As cunning as do those who nothing know,  
Save to be arrogant, and to contemn  
Those Pastors, who have taken charge of them.  
The appetite of some grows dull, and ●ailes,  
Unless it m●y be pampered with Quails;  
High flying crotchets, which we see d● fill  
Not half so m●ny soul●s as they do kill  
We cannot be content to make our flights,  
For that which God exposeth to our sights,  
And search for that which he is pleased to show,  
But, we must also p●y, what God doth know.  
W●i●h ●as indeed an ancient fallacy  
O● Satan's; and the v●●y same whereby  
He cheated Eve. From seeking to disclose  
Beyond our warrant, what God only knows,  
Proceedeth many errors. Thence doth come  
Most questi●ns that have troubled Christendom.  
Yea, searching things concealed, hath overthrown  
The comfortable use o● what is known.  
Hence flow●s their fruitless fond asseveration,  
Who blundred on Eternal Reprobation,  
And many groundless whimsies have invented,  
Whereby much better musings are prevented.  
Of Reprobation I no doubt have made;  
Yet, those vain quarrelings which we have had,  
Concerning her, and her antiquity,  
(But that the world hath wiser fools than I)  
Appears to me to bring so little fruits,  
That I suppose i● fitter for disputes  
In hell (among the reprobated ●rue)  
Then for a Church of Christians to pursue:  
At least to brawl about wi●●●●ch hot rage,  
As hath poss●●● so●e ●p●rits of this age.  
For, some have u●g●d this p●●nt of ●e●●obation,  
As if the chi●●e●● groundwork of salvation  
Depended on ●●●e●ving, just, as they  
(Deluded by their fancies) please to say.  
And, though they n●ver found God● holy wo●d  
Did any mention of the same afford,  
But, as of that which did begin since Time;  
And with respect to s●me committed crime:  
They, nevertheless, their strengths together gather,  
To prove the Child is older than the Fat●er.  
And, since that fatal thr●d, there, finds her spinning,  
But from of Old; at farthest from Beginning:  
They Reprobation, otherwhile confound  
With our Predestination: which is found  
No where in all the Scripture▪ to ●e●pect  
The Reprob●tes, but only Gods Elect.  
And then they are compelled to prove the sense  
Of their dar●e Tenet, by an inference;  
And to affirm (●rom ●eason) that Election  
Eternal, doth infer the like ●ejection.  
(As if an action of Eternity,  
Were fit to square out shallow reasons, by)  
Which Argument because it hath not tak●n  
True Faith, to ground on, may with ease be shaken▪  
Their tottering structure, therefore, up to keep,  
They into Gods fore knowledge boldly peep,  
Beyond his warrant; searching for Decrees  
And secrets, farther than an Angel sees:  
Presuming then, ●s if all things they knew,  
And had Eternity within their view.  
But, that hath such an infinite extension,  
Beyond their narr●w-bounded comprehension,  
That, th●●e they wa●●er on, ●ill they are mad:  
And 〈…〉 little knowledge w●ich they had:  
Fo●●spa● they but m●● men who maintain  
The g●●di●-●●●cies of their own weak brain,  
For Theses of Religion, which we must  
Believe as they affirm t●em, or be thrust  
Among the Repr●bates? What less, I pray,  
Are they then m●d●, who fool●●heir wits away  
In wheeling Arguments which have no end?  
In strains which man shall never apprehend?  
In seeking what their knowledge do●● exceed?  
In vain dispute, which contentions breed.  
In strange Chimaeras, and fantastic notions,  
That neither stir us up to good devotions,  
Nor mend our manners? But our w●yes pervert,  
Distract the judgement, or puff up ●he heart.  
If this I may not ●adnes call, or folly,  
'tis (all the best) religious-melancholly.  
What shall we iudg of those who strive to make  
God's word (who●e Terms and Scope they much mistake  
Their proofs for that whereof no proofs they are,  
And slight these Truths, for which the text is clear▪  
What shall we deem of these, who quite mistaking  
Good Authors, (and their Volumes guilty making  
Of what th●y never meant) do preach and write  
Against those Books, with rancorous despite,  
Which being well examined, say the same  
Which they affirm, and check what they do blame.  
Such men there be, and they great noise have made  
By fight furiously with their own shade.  
What may b● thought of them, who likely, ever,  
In their perverse opinions to persever,  
Take knowledge up on trust: and follow those  
Who lead them on, as wild-geese fly in ●owes?  
And when their multitude is waxen great,  
Do then so wilfully prejudicated,  
Become so confid●nt of that they hold,  
And in their blind assurance, so are bold,  
That they can brook no tryal●, neither see  
Their oversights, how plain so ere they be?  
But fond think (though we believe it not)  
That they infallibility h●ve got?  
Some pious men; yea, some great Doctor● tread,  
Such Loabrinths; and often are misled  
By holding that which t●ey at fi●st were taught,  
Without due proving all things as they ●ught:  
And vulgar men are often led awry,  
By their examples and for company.  
For, as a Traveller, that i● to come  
From some far Country, through large deserts, h●me▪  
(Not knowing well the way) is glad to take  
His course with such who shows of cunning make,  
And walks along, depending s●ill on them,  
Through many a wood, an● over many a stream,  
T●ll he and they are loft: there to remain  
He finds no safety, nor means back again,  
Nor list to leave his company; because  
He hopes that nearer homeward still he draws,  
And that his guides full sure of passage are,  
Although they cannot well describe it, there.  
So, when plain men do first attempt the way  
Of knowledge, by their guides, they walk astray,  
Without distrust; and when arrived they be  
Where many troublesome windin●'s, they do see,  
And where no certainty they can b●h●ld,  
Yet, on their leaders knowledge they are bold,  
O● on their multitude▪ yea, though they know,  
And, see them err, and ●u●ne, and stagger so,  
(In darksome paths) that well suppose they may,  
They rove and wander in an uncouth way;  
Yet, still they are unwilling to suspect  
The wild me of the Fathers of their Sect.  
Yea, though no satisfaction t●ey can find,  
Though fear, and doubtings ●o afflict their mind,  
They still impute it rat●er to their own  
Infirmities, or to the depths unknown  
Of those mysterious points, to mention brought;  
But never call in question what is taught:  
Lest being by those Teachers terrified,  
They might forsaken in d●●p●i●e abide.  
Their Doctors, also, failing to d●vise  
Strong Arguments, their hearers to suffice;  
This course, to salve their credits, la●e have ●ot;  
They say (forsooth) Faiths doctrine geules not  
With natural capacities; and that  
The Spirit must those men illuminate  
Who shall receive them▪ And, indeed in this,  
They do both say the truth, and say amiss:  
This is a lesuitish juggling trick,  
And, if allowed it be, each lunatic,  
And every brainsick Dreamer, by that way,  
May foist upon us all that he can say.  
For, though Gods holy Spirit must create  
New hearts within us, and regenerate  
Depraved nature, ere it can be able  
To make our outward hear profitable;  
We must not think that all which fancy saith  
(In terms obscure) are mysteries of Faith.  
Nor make the hearers want of power to reach  
Their meanings, to be proofs of what they teach.  
There is 'twixt ●en, & that which they are taught,  
Som● natural proportion▪ or 'tis naught▪  
The deepest mystery ●f our profession,  
Is capable of literal expression,  
As well to R●probates, as men elected;  
Or else it may of error be suspected  
Yea wicked men a power granted have  
To understand, although they misconceive.  
And can of d●●kest points make plain relations,  
Though to themselves they fail in applications.  
God never yet did bid us take in hand  
To publish that which none can understand:  
Much less affects he a man should mutton  
Rude sounds of that▪ whose depth he cannot utter;  
Or in uncertain terms as many do,  
Who preach Non sense, and oft nonentia too.  
For those whi●h man to man is bound to show,  
Are such plain Truths, as we by word may know;  
Which when the hearer can express again,  
The fruit hath equalled the Teacher's pain.  
Then, though the soul doth many ●imes conceive  
(By Faith, and by that Word which we receive)  
Deep mysteries, and that which far transcends  
A carnal knowledge: though she a●prehends  
Some glimmerings of those Objects, that a●e higher  
Than humane Reason ever shall aspire;  
Though she hath tastings of th●t blessedness,  
Which mortal tongue could never yet express;  
And though the soul may have some earnest given  
On earth, of what it shall enjoy in heaven;  
Though God may when he list (and now and then  
For cause not ordinary) to some men  
Vouchsafeth (for their secret satisfactions)  
A few reflections fr●m eternal actions:  
T●ough this be so, let no man arrogate  
That he such secrets can by word relate.  
For, they are things▪ of which no voice can preach;  
High flights, to which no mortal wing can reach;  
'tis God's own work, such raptures to convey,  
To compass ●h●m there is no other w●y,  
But by his blessed Spirit. And, of tho●e  
Most can we not; some must we not disclose  
For, if they only touch out pri●ate state,  
They were not sent, that we should them relate▪  
But deigned that the soul they strengthen might  
Amid the perils of some secret fight;  
When men to honour God, or fo● their sin,  
The terrors of this life are glun●ed in.  
And, as it i● reputed of those things.  
Which foolish people think some Fairy b●ings.  
So, of Euthusiasmes speak I may;  
Discover them, and strait ●hey fly away.  
For▪ thus they fare who boast of Revelations,  
Or of the certainty of their Salvations,  
Or any ghostly gift, at times or places,  
Which warrant not the mention of such graces:  
Yea, by revealing things which they should hide,  
They entrance make for overweening p●ide,  
And that quite mars the blessing they possessed,  
Or, for a while, obscureth it, at best:  
And yet, if any man shall climb so high,  
That they attain unto a Mystery,  
Conceived by few; they may, if they be able,  
Disclose it where it may b● profitable,  
But, they must know, that (if it be, indeed,  
Of such transcendency, as doth exceed  
Mee●e natural reaches) it should be declared  
To none, save unto those who are prepared  
For such conceptions; and more apt to know them  
By their own thoughts, then are our words to show them.  
Else, all they utter will in clouds appear,  
And, errors men for truths, away will bear.  
Would this ha● been observed a little more,  
By some who in our Congregations roar  
Of God's unknown Decrees, Eternall-Callings,  
Of Perseverance, and of Final, Fall,  
And such like Mysteries▪ Or else, I would  
That they their meanings better utter could,  
(If well they meant.) For, though those points afford  
Much comfort and instruction (as God's word  
Hath mentioned them) and may applied be,  
And opened, when we just occasion see;  
Yet, as most handle them, who now adays  
Do pass for Preachers, with a vulgar praise▪  
They profit not: for, this ripe age hath young  
And forward wits, who by their fluent tongue,  
And able memories, a way have found  
To build a house, ere they have laid the ground.  
With common places, and with notes purloined,  
(Not well applied, and as ill conjoined)  
A garb of preaching these have soon attained,  
Which hath, with many, approbation gained  
Beyond their merit. For, they take in hand  
Those mysteries, they neither understand,  
Nor studied on. And, they have much distracted  
Some hearers, by their doctrines ill compacted:  
Yea, by enquiring out what God foresee,  
And meddling much with his unknown Decree●,  
The Church's peace so much disturbed have they;  
So foul and crooked made Faith's plainest way;  
Such scandals raised; and interrupted so.  
By doubts impertinent, what men should do;  
And, their endeavours nullifide, so far,  
That many of them at a nonplus are.  
I am not of their minds, who take from this  
And other things, that are performed amiss,  
Occasion to disparage frequent preaching;  
Or, to abate our plenteousness of teaching:  
For, of our Harvest, Lord, I humbly pray,  
The store of Labourers continue may.  
And, I could also wish, that none were chose  
To be a seed man, till he truly knows  
The Wheat from Tares; and is endued with reason,  
And grace, to sow in order, and in season.  
And that those artless workmen may be stayed,  
Who build before foundations they have laid▪  
Jest, when our Church well built, suppose we shall,  
It sink, and overwhelm us in the fall.  
It pities me to mark what rends appear  
Within our Zion; and what daub are  
To hide the ruins; and I fear the frame  
Will totter, if we long neglect the same.  
Our Watchmen, for the greater pa●t, are grown  
Less mindful of God's honour, t●en their own:  
For either almost wholly we omit  
That work, or undiscreetly follow it.  
Some, speak the truth, without sincere intention,  
As they who preach the Gospel for contention.  
Some, by their wicked lives do give offence,  
And harden men in their impenitence.  
As if nor hell nor heaven they did believe,  
They riot, game, drink drunk, and whore, and theeve.  
For avarice, and envy, none are worse;  
They are malicious, and blaspheme, and curse,  
As much as any others. None are more  
Regardless of the soul that's mean and poor;  
Among their neighbours, none more quarrelsome,  
Or, that more hardly reconciled become,  
Then many Clergymen. And as we see  
They are the best of money, when good they be;  
So, there are none that wander more astray,  
When they have left a sanctified way.  
Some Pastors are too hot; and some too cold;  
And, very few the golden temper hold.  
Some, at the Papist with such madness fling,  
As if they could not utter any thing  
Of them too vile; though ne'er so false it were:  
And, we so used by their jesuits are.  
Some others at the Puritan do strike,  
So furiously, that they are often like  
To wrong the Protestants: for, men impose  
That name, sometime, upon the best of those.  
Yea, they who are profane, that name mis-lay  
On all who make a conscience of their way.  
Some Shepherds, on their Flocks are go●g'd at full,  
And sumptuously arrayed in their wool.  
But, those that are diseased, they make not strong;  
Their sickliest sheep they seldom come among;  
They take no care, the broken up to bind,  
The Sheep that's lost, they do not seek to find;  
They let such wander as will run astray;  
And, many times their fury so doth f●ay  
The tender conscience; that their indiscretion  
Doth fright their hearers headlong to perdition.  
God's bounty hath large pastorage provided;  
But, they have not his flocks with wisdom guided:  
For, in the midst of plenty, some be ready  
To starve in ignorance. Some sheep are heady;  
Some get the staggers; some the scab; and they  
Infect their fellows. Some, the wantoness play  
Among the thorns and briers, which have torn  
The marks and fleeces, which they should have worn.  
Some straggle from the flock; and they are strait  
Surprised by Wolves, which lie for them in wait.  
Some, sought large feeding, and rank pastures got,  
Which proved not wholesome; & they caught the Ro●.  
For, many preach themselves, and fancies broach,  
That scandal preaching, to the Truth's reproach.  
Yea, some term that (forsooth) God's word divine,  
Which would half shame me, should they term it mine.  
And they we see, that longest prey and speak  
Are prized of most (though head nor foot they make)  
Because the common hearers of this land,  
Think best of that, which lest they understand.  
Some, also, by their feet disturb the Spring●;  
Or trample and defile God's pasturing;  
And they are either such who make obscure  
Faiths principles; or, such who●e lives impure  
Profane their Doctrines. Other some have we,  
Who (like the beasts that over gamesome be)  
Do push their ●eaker brethren with their horns▪  
And hunt them from the flock, by wrongs, or scorn.  
God's horses, also, much neglected are;  
And of his Sanctuaries, few have care.  
A barn, or any common house, or room,  
Is thought as well God's worship to become,  
As in the Church's infancy; or there,  
Where wants, and wars, and persecutions are.  
Amidst our peace and plenties, we do grudge  
Our Oratories should be trimmed as much  
As are our vulgar dwellings; and repine  
That exercises which are most divine,  
Should with more Rites, or Ornaments, be done,  
Then when the troublous times afforded none.  
As if a Garden, when the flowers are blown,  
Were still to look as when it first was sown.  
To worship so in spirit, we pretend  
That, in our bodie●, we do scarcely bend  
A leg, or move a cap, when there we be,  
Where Gods most holy Mysteries we see.  
Yea, many seem so careful to have been,  
To let no Superstition enter in,  
That they have, almost, wholly banished hence,  
All Decency, and pious Reverence.  
The Church, by Lukewarme-Christians, is neglected  
By brutish Athe'sts it is disrespected;  
By greedy Worldlings, robbed of her fleeces;  
By self-willed Schismatics, nigh torn in pieces;  
By Tyrants, and by Infidels opposed;  
By her blind Guides, to hazard oft exposed;  
By Hypocrites, injuriously desamed;  
And, by the frailties of the best, oft shamed.  
A power ecclesiastical is granted  
To them, full often, who those minds have wanted  
Becoming such Authority: and they  
Play fast and loose, even with the Church's Key.  
They censure and absolve, as best shall make  
For their advantage; not for conscience sake.  
As they shall please, they punish or connive;  
And, by the people's follies they do thrive.  
Of evil customs, many are we see  
Insinuated, and so strict are we  
To keep them, that we sottishly deny  
To leave them, for what more would edify:  
And we so much do Innovations fear,  
That needful Reformations no●e appear.  
We have prophan●d every holy thing;  
Even out most Christian ●●asts, which are to bring  
God● Mercies to our thou●●t; and memorise  
Of Saving-Grace, the sacred Mysteries:  
Some have ev●n those gainsaid; and, in that  
Have evil spoken, of they know not what.  
Some others keep them; but, as heathnishly,  
As Feasts of Bacchus; and impiety  
Is then so rife, that God is rarely named  
Or thought upon, except to be blasphemed.  
By these, and other ways, the church doth lose  
Much honour, to the glory of her so●s,  
And our great sham● and loss: for, her decays  
Shall be this Realms disprofit, and dispraise.  
God hath a controversy with our La●d;  
And, in an evil plight affairs do stand.  
Already we do smart for doing ill;  
Yet, us the hand of God afflicteth still,  
And many see not; as many be  
So wilful, that his hand they will not see.  
Some, plainly view the same, but nothing care:  
Some, at the sight thereof amazed are  
Like Balthasar; and have a trembling heart,  
Yet, will not from their vanities depart.  
About such matters, other some are loath  
Their thoughts to busy (merely out of sloth)  
Like him, who rather would in hazard put  
His life, then rise from bed the door to shut.  
Some, dream that all things do by chance succeed,  
And that I prate more of them then I need.  
Bu●, Heav●● and Earth, to witness I invoke,  
That, causelessly, I nothing here have spoke.  
If this, oh sickly Island, thou believe,  
And for thy great infirmity shalt grieve,  
And, grieving of thy follies make confessions;  
And so confess thine infinite transgressions,  
That thou amend those errors: God shall then  
Thy manifold distempers cure again;  
Make all thy scarlet sins as white as snow,  
And cast his threatened judgement on thy foe.  
But, if thou (fond thinking thou a●t well)  
Shalt slight this Message, which my Muse doth tell,  
And scorn her counsel; If thou shalt not rue  
Thy former ways; but, frowardly pursue  
Thy wilful course: then, hark what I am bold,  
(In spite of all thy madness) to unfold.  
For, I will tell thy Fortune; which, when they  
That are unborn, shall read, another day;  
They will believe God's mercy did in●●se  
Thy Poet's breast with a prophetic Muse.  
And know, that he this Author did prefer,  
To be from him, this Isle's REMEMBRANCER.  
If thou, I say, oh Britain! shalt retain  
Thy crying sins, thou dost presume in vain,  
Of God's protection. If thou stop thine ear,  
Or burn this Roll, in which recorded are  
Thy just Inditements; it shall written be  
With new additions, deeply stamped on thee  
With such Characters, that no time shall raze  
Their fatal image, from thy scared face.  
Though haughtily thou dost thyself dispos●,  
Because the Sea thy borders doth enclose.  
Although upon the Rocks thy nest is placed;  
Though thou among the Stars thy dwelling haste;  
Though thou increase thy ships; and unto that  
Which is thine own, with King jehosophat,  
join ahab's forces. Though thou watch and ward,  
And all thy Ports and Havens strongly guard;  
Although thou multiply thy inland forces,  
And muster up large troops of men and horses▪  
Though like an Eagle, thou thy wings display'st,  
And (high thyself advancing) proudly sayest;  
I sit aloft, and am so high, that none  
Can ●etch me from the place I rest upon.  
Yea, though thou no advantages didst want,  
Of which the glorioust Emperies did vaunt;  
Yet, sure, thou shalt be humbled and brought low;  
Even then, perhaps, when least thou fearest it so.  
Till thou repent, provisions which are made  
For thy defence, or others to invade,  
Shall be in vain; and still, the greater cost  
Thou shalt bestow, the honour that is lost  
Shall be the greater; and thy wasted strength,  
Be sick of a Consumption, at the length.  
Thy Treaties, which for peace or profit be,  
Shall neither peace, nor profit, bring to thee.  
Or, if thy Counsels prosper for a while,  
God will permit it, only to beguile  
Thy foolishness; and tempt thee on, to run  
Some courses, that will bring his judgement on.  
Yea, all thy win shall but fuel be,  
To feed those follies that now spring in thee;  
And make (with vengeance) those the more enraged  
Who shall for thy correction be engaged.  
What ever threatened in God's Book ha●h been,  
Against a wicked people for their sin,  
Shall come on thee: His hand shall be for ill,  
On every Mountain, and high-raised Hill.  
Thy lofty Cedars, and thy sturdy Oake●,  
Shall feel the fury of his thunder-stroakes.  
Upon thy Ships, thy Havens, and thy Ports,  
Upon thy Arms, thy Armies, and thy Forts,  
Upon thy pleasures and commodities,  
Thy Crafts mechanic, and thy Merchandise;  
On all the fruits, and cattle in thy fields,  
On what the Air, or what the Water yields,  
On Prince, and People; on both weak, and strong▪  
On Priest, and Prophet; on both old, and young;  
Yea, on ea●h person, place, and every thing,  
The plague it hath deserved God shall bring.  
What ever thou dost hope, he frustrate shall;  
And, make what e'er thou fearest, on thee fall.  
This pleasant soil, wherein such plenty grows,  
And where both milk and honey overflows,  
Shall for thy people's wickedness be made  
A Land as barren, as what never had  
Such plenties in it. God shall drive away  
Thy pleasant Fowls, and all those Fish that play  
Within thy waters; and for whose great store  
Some other Nations would have praised him more.  
Those Rivers, that have made thy Valleys rich,  
Sh●ll be like sh●ames of ever-burning Pitch.  
Thy dust, ●s Brimstone; fields as hard and dry  
As i●on is; the Firmament, on high,  
(●●ke b●ass●) shall yield thee neither rain nor dew,  
The ●ope of wasted blessings to renew.  
A leanness, shall thy fatness quite devour;  
Thy Wheat shall in the place of wholesome flower,  
Yield nought but bran. In stead of grass and corn,  
Thou shalt in times of harvest, reap the thorn,  
The thistle, and the b●yar. Of their shadows  
Thy Gr●ves shall robbed be. Thy flowery Meadows  
Shall sterile wax. There shall be seldom seen  
Sheep on thy Downs; or Shepherds on the green.  
Thy walks, thy gardens, and each pleasant plot,  
Shall be as those where men inhabit not.  
Thy Villages, where goodly dwellings are,  
Shall stand as if they unfrequented were.  
Thy Cries, and thy Palaces, wherein  
Most neatness and magnificence hath been,  
Shall heaps of rubbish be; and (as in those  
Demolished Abbeys, wherein Daws, and Crows,  
Now make their nests) the bramble, and the nettle,  
Shall in their halls, and parlours, root, and set●le.  
Thy Prince's houses, and thy wealthy Ports,  
Now filled with men of all degrees and sorts,  
Shall no inhabitants in them retain,  
But some poor Fisherman, or country Swaine,  
Who of thy glories, when the marks they see,  
Shall wonder wha● those mighty ruins be;  
As now they do, who old foundations find,  
Of Towns and Cities, perished out o● mind.  
The places where much people meetings had,  
●hall vermin holes, and dens for beasts be made.  
Or wal●s for Sprights, who from those uncouth room●  
Shall fright the passenger, which that way comes.  
In stead of mirth and laughter, lamentation  
Shall there abide: and, loathsome desolation,  
In stead of company. Where once was heard  
Sweet melody, men shall be made afeard  
With hideous cries, and howl of despair.  
Thy very Climate, and thy temperate air,  
Shall lose their wholesomeness, for thy offences;  
And breed hot Fevers, Murraines, Pestilences,  
And all diseases. They that now are trained  
In ease, and with soft pleasures entertained;  
In stead o● idle games, and wanton dances,  
Shall practise how to handle guns, and lances:  
And be compelled to leave their friends embraces,  
To end their lives in diverse uncouth places;  
Or else, thy face, with their own blood defile▪  
In hope to keep themselves, and thee, from spoil.  
Thy beauteous Women (whose great pride is more  
Than theirs, whom Esay blamed heretofore)  
In stead of paintings, and of costly scents,  
Of glittering gems, and precious ornaments,  
Shall wear deformity about their faces;  
And, being robbed of all their tempting graces,  
Feel wants, diseases, and all such like things,  
Which to a wanton Lover loathing brings.  
Thy God, shall for thy overflowing vices,  
Scourge thee with Scorpions, Serpents, Cockatrices,  
And other such; whose tails with stings are armed,  
That neither can be plucked forth, nor charmed.  
Thou shalt not be sufficed when thou art fed;  
Nor shalt thou suffer scarcity of bread  
And temporal food alone; but, of that meat,  
Whereof the faithful soul desires to eat.  
That curse of ravenous beasts, which God hath said,  
Upon a wicked kingdom shall be la●d,  
He will inflict on thee. For, though there be  
No Tiger's Lions, Wolves, or Bears in thee,  
By beastly minded men (that shall be far  
More cruel than those bloody spoilers are)  
Thou shalt be torn: For, each man shall assay  
His fellow to devour as lawful prey.  
In stead of Lions, Tyrants thou shalt breed,  
Who nor of Conscience, nor of Law take heed;  
But, on the weak man's portion lay their paw,  
And, make their Pleasures, to become their Law.  
In stead of Tigers, men of no compassion,  
A furious, and a wilful generation,  
Shall fill thy borders. Thiefs, and outlaws vile,  
Shall hunt the ways, and haunt the woods for spoil▪  
As Bears, and Wolves. A subtle cheating crew  
(That will with tricks and cozenages pursue  
The simpler sort) shall here increase their breed▪  
And, in their subtleties the Fox exceed.  
That hoggish herd, which always rooting are  
Within the ground, and never upward rear  
Their grunting snouts; nor fix their eyes on heaven▪  
To look from whence their daily food is given:  
Those filthy swinish livers, who desire  
To feed on draff, and wallow in the mire;  
Those, who affect rank puddles, more than springs;  
To trample and despise most precious things;  
The holy to profane; God's herbs of grace  
To nouzle up; his Vineyard to deface;  
And such like harms to do: these spoil thy fields,  
Mar worse, than those wild Boars the desert yields.  
If thou remain impenitent, thou art  
Like Egypt; and, so stony is thy heart.  
For w●ich obdurateness, those plagves will all  
Descend on th●e, wh●ch did on Egypt fall  
Blood, Frogs, and Lice, great swarms of uncouth Flies,  
Th'infectious Morraine, whereof Cattles dies;  
Boils, Scabs, and Bl●ine; fierce H●il, & Thunder-storm●;  
The locust, and all fruit devouring Worms.  
Gross Darkness, and the Death or those that be  
Thy Darlings; all those Plagues shall fall on thee,  
According as the Letter doth imply,  
Or, as in mystic sense th●y signify.  
Thy purest Rivers God shalbourne to blood;  
With every Lake, that hath been swe●t and good.  
Even in thy nostrils he shall make it stink▪  
For, nothing shall thy people eat or drink▪  
Until their own, or others blood it cost;  
Or, put their lives in hazard to be lost.  
Most loathsome Frogs; that is, a race impure▪  
Of base condition, and of birth obscure.  
(Even in unwholesome fens, and ditches, bred)  
Shall with a clownish rudeness overspread  
Thy pleasantest fields; thy fairest rooms possess;  
And make unwholesome (by their sluttishness)  
Thy kneading troughs, thy ovens, and that meat,  
Whereof thy people, and thy Princes eat.  
This hateful brood, shall climb to croak and sing,  
Within the lodging chambers of the King.  
Yea, there make practice of those natural notes,  
Which issue from their evill-sounding throats:  
To wit, vain brags, revile, ribaldries,  
Vile slanders, and unchristian blasphemies.  
The Land shall breed a nasty Generation,  
Unworthy either of the reputation  
Or name of men. For, they as Lice shall feed  
Even on the body whence they did proceed;  
Till poverty, and sloven●y, and sloth,  
Have quite disgraced them, and consumed them, both▪  
There shall, moreover, swarms of diverse Flies,  
Engendered be in thy prosperities,  
To be a plague: the Flesh fly shall corrupt  
Thy savoury meats; Musketoes interrupt  
The weary traveller; thou shalt have Drones,  
Dor●s, Hornets, Wasps, and such l●ke angry-ones,  
Who represent that swarm whose buzzing tongues  
(Like stings) are used in their neighbour's wrongs▪  
And, still are flying, and still humming so,  
As if they meant some weighty wo●ks to do,  
When as, upon the common stock they spend;  
And nought perform of that which they pretend.  
Thy Butterflies shall plague thee too; even those,  
Who waste their Lands and Rents, in gaudy clothe●,  
Or idle flutterings; and then spawn their seed,  
Upon thy goodly'st flowers, and herbs to feed.  
As Beasts destroyed by the Murrain be,  
So, they that are of beastly life in thee,  
By lewd example shall infect each other;  
And in their foul diseases ●ot together.  
On all thy people, of what so●t soe'er,  
Shall scabs, and biles, and running sores appear,  
The fruits of their corruption. Yea, wi●h pains  
(Within their conscience, and with scars and blains  
Of outward infamy) ●hey shall be grieved;  
And, in their tortures perish, unrelieved.  
Tempestuous storms, upon this I'll shall fall,  
Hot Thunderbolts, and Hailstones therewithal;  
Men▪ either too too ho●, or too too cold;  
Or else lukewarm. But, few or none sha●l hold  
A rightful temper: and, these meteors will  
Thy borders with a thousand mischiefs fill.  
The Locust also and the Palmer wro●es,  
Shall pray on what escapeth f●om the Storms:  
Not they alone, which on the grass● do breed;  
Bu●, also, they who fro● the ●it proceed  
Which hath no bottom: and, when any thing  
Doth by the dew of heaven begin to spring,  
They shall devour the same, till they have left thee,  
Nor leaf nor blossom; but, of all bereft thee.  
Then, shall a darkness follow, far more black,  
Then when the light corporeal thou dost lack.  
For, grossest Ignorance, o'reshadowing all,  
Shall in so thick a darkness thee enthral,  
That, thou a blockish people shalt be made,  
S●ill wand'ring o● in a deceiving shade;  
Mistrusting those that safest paths are showing;  
Most trusting them, who counsel thy undoing;  
And aye tormented be with doubts and fears,  
As one that outcries, in dark places hears.  
Nor shall the hand of God from thee return,  
Till he hath also smo●e thine eldest-b●rne.  
That is, till he hath taken from thee qu●te,  
Even that whereon thou se●●t thy whole delight;  
And filled every house throughout this Nation,  
With deaths unlooked for, and lamentation.  
So great shall be thy ruin, and thy shame,  
That when the neighbouring kingdoms hear the same  
Their ears shall tin●le. And when that day comes,  
In which thy follies must re●eive their dooms;  
A day of clouds, a day of gloominess,  
A day of black despair, and heaviness,  
It will appear. And, than thy vanities,  
Thy gold, thy silver, thy confederacies,  
And all those reeds on which thou hast depended;  
Will fail thy trust, and leave thee unbefriended.  
Thy King, thy Priest, & Prophets, then shall mourn;  
And, peradventure, f●inedly ●e●u●ne  
To beg of God to succou● them: but, they  
Who will not ha●k●●●his voice to day,  
Shall c●y unheeded: and he will despise  
Their v●wes, thei● prayers, and their sacrifice:  
A sea of troubles, all thy hopes shall swallow:  
As waves o●● waves, so plague on plague shall follow:  
And, every thing that was a blessing to thee,  
Shall turn to be a curse, and help undo thee.  
Thy Sov'raignes have to th●e thy Fathers been;  
By means of them hath peace been● kept within  
Thy sea-girt limits: they, thy weal befriended,  
The blessed Faith they stoutly h●ve defended:  
And, thou hast cause of goodly hopes in him,  
Who hath, of late, put on thy Diadem.  
But know, that (till thou shalt repent) no part  
Belongs to thee of what is his desert.  
His princely virtues, to his own avail,  
Shall profit much: but, they to thee shall fail.  
To thee his clemency shall seem severe,  
His favours all, shall injuries appear;  
And when thy sin is fully ●ipe in thee,  
Thy Prince and People, then, alike shall be.  
Thou shalt have Babes to be thy Kings; or worse▪  
Those Tyrants who by cruelty and force  
Shall take away thy ancient freedoms quite,  
From all their Subjects; yea▪ themselves delight  
In their vexations: and, all those that are  
Made slaves thereby, shall murmur, yet not dare  
To stir against them. By degrees, they shall  
Deprive thee of thy patrimonies all;  
Compel thee (as in other Lands, this day)  
For thin● own meat, and thine own drink to pay.  
And, at the last, begin to exercise  
Upon thy sons, all heathenish tyrannies,  
As just Prerogatives. To these intents,  
Thy Nobles shall become their instruments.  
For, they who had their birth from noble races,  
Shall (some and some) be brought into disgraces:  
From offices they shall excluded stand:  
And all their virtuous offspring, from the Land,  
Shall quite be worn: in stead of whom shall rise  
A brood advanced by impieties,  
By flattery, by purchase, and by that  
Which every truly-noble one doth hate.  
From stems obscure, and out of mean professions▪  
They shall ascend and mount by their ambitions,  
To seats of justice; and those Names to bear,  
Which honoured most within these Kingdoms are▪  
And being thither got, shall make more strong  
Their newbuilt Greatness, by increasing wrong:  
To those, will some of these themselves unite,  
Who by their births to Lordly Styles have right;  
But, viciously confuming their estate,  
Did from their father's worths degenerate.  
By this Confederacy, their nobler bloods  
Shall countenance the others ill got goods;  
The others wealth again, shall keep from scorn  
Their beggary, who have been nobly borne:  
And, both together, being else unable,  
(In their ill course to make their standing stable)  
Shall seek how they more great, and strong, may grow  
By compassing the public overthrow.  
They shall abuse thy Kings, with tales, and lies;  
With seeming love, and servile flatteries.  
They shall persuade them they have power to make  
Their Wills, their Law▪ and as they please to take  
Their people's goods, their children, and their lives,  
Even by their just and due Prerogatives.  
When thus much they have made them to believe,  
Then, they shall teach them practices to grieve  
Their subjects by; and, instruments become  
To help the screwing up, by some and some,  
Of Monarchies●o ●o Tyrannies. They shall  
Abuse Religion, Honesty, and all,  
To compass their designs. They shall devise  
Strange projects; and with impudence, and lies,  
Proceed in settling them. They shall forget  
Those reverend usages, which do befit  
The majesty of State; and rail, and storm,  
When they pretend disorders to reform.  
In their high Counsels, and where men should have  
Kind admonitions, and reprovings grave,  
When they offend; they shall be threatened there,  
Or scoffed, or taunted, though no cause appear.  
It is unseemly for a judge to sit  
And exercise a jibing Schoolboys wit  
Upon their trades, or names, who stand before  
Their judgement se●ts: but, who doth not abhor  
To hear it, when a Magistrate objects,  
Birth, poverty, or personal defects  
In an upbraiding wise? Or, who with me  
Derides it not, when in out Courts we see  
Those men, whose bodies are both old and weak,  
(Forgetting gr●ve and useful things to speak)  
Vent Giant● words▪ and bristle up, as though  
Their very breath could armies overthrow▪  
Whereas (poor weaklings) were there in their place●  
No more authority, then in their faces,  
Their persons, or their language, all their chase▪  
And threatening, nothing would effect but laughing.  
For, unto me big looks, and crying hoh,  
As dreadful seems, as when a child cries boo  
To fright his Nurse: yea, such a bug bear fashion  
Effecteth nought but scornful indignation.  
But in those times (which neare● are then some  
Suppose perhaps) such Rhetoric will come  
To be in use; and arguments of Reason,  
And just proceedings, will be out of season.  
Their wisdom shall be folly; and, go nigh  
To bring contempt on their Authority.  
Their Counsel-table shall a snare be made,  
And those against whom they no just matter had▪  
At first appearance, shall be urged to say  
Some word or other, ere they part away,  
Which will betray their innocence to blame,  
And bring upon them detriment and shame:  
Yea, many times (as David hath of old,  
Concerning such oppressors, well foretold)  
To humble crouchings, and to feigned shows,  
Descend they shall, to work men's overthrows▪  
And, what their subtlety doth fail to gain▪  
They shall by rigour, and by force obtain.  
What ever from thy people they can tear,  
Or borrow, they shall keep, as if it were  
A prize which had been taken from the Foe:  
And, th●y shall make no conscience what they do  
To prejudice Posterity. For, they  
To gain their lust, but for the present day,  
Shall with such love unto themselves endeavour,  
That (though they knew it would undo for ever  
Their own posterity) it shall not make  
Those Mo●●ters any better course to take.  
Nay, God shall give them up for their offences,  
To such uncomely reprobated senses:  
And, blind them so, that (when the a●e they see  
Even hewing at the root of their own tree,  
By their own handy strokes) they shall not griev●  
For their approaching fall: no, nor believe  
Their fall approacheth; nor assume that heed  
Which might prevent it, till they fall indeed.  
Thy Princes, Britain, in those days, will b●  
Like roaring Lions, making prey of thee.  
God shall deliver thee into their hand,  
And they shall act their pleasure in the Land▪  
As once his Prophet threatened to that Nation▪  
Which doth exemplify thy Desolation.  
Thy Kings (as thou hast wallowed in excess)  
Shall take delight in drink, and wantonness.  
And, those whom thou dost call thy Noble-o●es  
Shall to the very marrow, gnaw thy bones.  
Thy Lawyers wilfully shall wrest thy Laws▪  
And (to the ruin of the common Cause)  
Shall misinterpret them, in hop● of grace  
From those, who may despoil them of their place▪  
Yea, that whereto they are obliged, both  
By Conscience, by their Calling, and their Oat●  
To put in execution; they shall fear,  
And, leave them helpless, who oppressed are.  
Thy Prelates in the spoil of thee shall share;  
Thy Priests, as light shall be, as those that are  
The meanest persons. All their Prophecies▪  
Or preachings, shall be heresies and lies.  
The word of truth in them shall not remain,  
Their lips no wholesome knowledge shall retain▪  
And all his outward means of saving Grace,  
Thy God shall carry to another place.  
Mark well oh Britain! what I now shall say,  
And do not slightly pass these words away;  
But, be assured that when God begins,  
To bring that vengeance on thee, for thy sins,  
Which hazard will thy total overthrow,  
Thy Prophets, and thy Priests shall slily sow  
The seeds of t●at dissension, and sedition,  
Which Time will ripen for thy sad perdition.  
Even they, who formerly, were of thy peace  
The happy instruments, shall then increase  
Thy troubles most. And▪ even as when the jews  
Gods truth-presaging Prophets did abuse,  
He suffered those who preached in hi● Name,  
Such falsehoods as the chiefest cause became  
Of their destruction: so if thou go on  
To make a scorn (as thou hast o●ten done)  
Of them who seek thy well are, he will send  
False prophets, that shall bring thee to thine end,  
By saying all things thou wouldst have them say:  
And lulling thee asleep in thine own way.  
If any brainsick Fellow, whom the Devil  
Seduceth to inflict on thee some evil,  
Shall coin false Doctrines, or persuade thee to  
Some foolish course that will, at length, undo  
The Common-weal: his counsel thou shalt follow;  
Then, covered with his bait, a hook shalt swallow  
To rend thine entrailes: and thine ignorance  
Shall, also for that mischief, him advance.  
But if that any lover of thy weal,  
Inspired with truth, and with an honest zeal,  
Shall tell thee aught pertaining to thy good,  
His Messages shall stiffly be withstood:  
That Seer shall be charged not to see;  
His word shall slighted as a potsherd be;  
His life shall ●e traduced, to disgrace  
His Counsell●; or, his errant to debase:  
In stead of recompense, he shall be sure,  
Imprisonments, or threatenings to procure▪  
And, peradventure (as those Prophets were,  
Who did among the jewish Peers declare  
Their States enormities) h●s good intention  
May be so wronged, th●t he, by some invention,  
May lose his li●e, wit● public shame and hate,  
As one that i● a trouble● o●●he State.  
But, not unl●sse ●he ●riest thereto consent:  
For in tho●e ●aye● shall ●●w men innocent  
Be grieved (t●r●●●h any qu●●ter of the Land)  
In which thy C●e●g●e●hall ●hall not have some hand.  
If ever in thy 〈◊〉, (as God ●orbid)  
The blood of t●in● own children shall be shed  
By civil discord, they sha●l blow the flame,  
That will become thy ruin, and thy shame.  
And thus it shall be kindled. When the times,  
Are nigh at worst▪ and thy increasing crimes  
Almost complete; the Devil shall begin  
To bring strange crotchets, and opinions in  
Among thy Teachers; which will breed disunion▪  
And interrupt the visible communion  
Of thy established Church And, in the steed  
Of zealous Pastors, (who Gods flock did feed)  
There shall arise within thee, by degrees,  
A Clergy, ●hat shall more desire to fleece,  
Then feed the flock. A Clergy it shall be,  
Divided in itself: and they shall thee  
Divide among them, into several factions,  
Which rend thee will, and fill thee with distractions▪  
They all in outward seeming shall pretend  
God's glory, and to have one pious end:  
But, under colour of sincere devotion,  
Their study shall be temporal promotion▪  
Which will among themselves strange quarrels make  
Wherein thy other Children shall partake.  
As to the Persons, or the Cause, they stand  
Affected, even quite throughout the Land.  
One part of these will for preferment strive,  
By lifting up the King's prerogative  
Above itself. They shall persuade him to  
Much more than Law or Conscience bids him do▪  
And say, God warrants it. His holy Laws  
They shall pervert, to justify their cause;  
And, impudently wrest, to prove their ends,  
What God, to better purposes, intends.  
They shall not blush to say, that every King▪  
May do like Solomon, in every ●hing,  
As if they had his warrant: and shall dare  
Ascribe to Monarches, rights that proper are  
To none but Christ; and mix their flatteries,  
With no less gross and wicked blasphemies,  
Then Heathens did: yea, make their Kings believe,  
That whomsoever they oppress or grieve,  
It is no wrong; nor fit for men oppressed,  
To seek by their own Laws to be redressed.  
Such counsel shall thy Princes then provoke,  
To cast upon thee Rehoboams' yoke.  
And, they not caring, or not taking heed  
How ill that ill-advised King did speed,  
Shall multiply thy causes of distraction.  
For, then, will of thy Priests, the other faction  
Bestir themselves. They will in outward shows,  
Those whom I last have mentioned, oppose.  
But, in thy ruin▪ they will both agree,  
As in one Centre, though far oft they b●  
In their Diameter. With lowly zeal,  
An envious▪ pride they s●ily shall conceal▪  
And, as the former to thy Kings will teach  
Mere Tyranny: so shall these other preach  
Rebellion to the People▪ and shall strain  
The word of God, Sedition to maintain.  
They shall not fear to say, that if thy King  
Become a Tyrant, thou mayst also fling  
Obedience off; or f●om his Crown divorce him▪  
Or, by the ter●or of drawn swords enforce him.  
Which false Divinity, shall to the Devil  
Send many souls and bring on thee much evil.  
Oh! be thou therefore watchful; and when e'er  
These Lambs with Dragon's voices do appea●e,  
Repent thy sin, or t●ke it for a token,  
That some great Bulwarks of thy peace is broken,  
Which must be ●oone repaired or else, all  
The greatness o● thy glory, down will fall.  
Take heed of those false prophet's, who will strive  
Betwixt thy Prince and People to contrive  
A disagreement. And, what ever come,  
Thy due Allegiance never sta●t thou from.  
For (their oppressions though we may withstand  
By pleading Laws, or Customs) not a hand  
Must move against them, save the hand of God▪  
Who makes a King, a Bulwark, or a Rod,  
As pleaseth him. Oh! take ye therefore heed  
Ye People, and ye Kings (that shall succeed)  
Of these Impostors. Of the last beware  
Ye Subjects: for, their Doctrines hellish are.  
And though they promise Liberty and peace,  
Your Thraldom, and your Troubles they'll increase.  
eat oh! ye Kings the first; for, they advise  
What will your Crowns and honour's prejudice.  
When you do think their Prophecies befriend you,  
They do but unto Ramoth-Gilead send you,  
Where you shall perish; and poor Micahs word,  
Though less esteemed more safety will afford▪  
They will abuse your piety, and all  
Your virtues. To their wicked ends they shall  
Apply the Sacred Story; or what ever  
May seem to further their unjust endeavour.  
Even what the son of Hann●h told the jews,  
Should be their scourge (because they did refuse  
The sovereignty of God, and were so vain  
To ask a King which over th●m might reign  
A● heathen Princes did) that curse they shall  
Affirm to be a Law monarchial  
Which God himself established to stand  
Throughout all ages, and in every land.  
Which is as good Divinity, as they  
Have also taught, who do not blush to say  
That Kings may have both Wives and Concubines;  
And, by that Rule whereby these great Divines  
Shall prove their Tene●, I dare undertake  
(If ●ound it hold) that I like proof will m●k●  
Of any jewish Custom, and devise  
Authority for all absurdities.  
But, false it is. For, might all King's ●t pleasure  
(As by the right of royalty) make ceasure  
Of ●ny man's possessions: why I pray  
Did Ahab grieve, that Naboth said him nay?  
Why made ●e not this answer thereunto,  
(If what the Proph●t said some Kings would do,  
We●e justly to ●e done) Thy Vineyard's mine;  
And, at my pleasure, Naboth, all that's thine  
Assume I may. Why, like a Turky-chick,  
Did he so foolishly ●row sullen sick,  
And get possession by a wicked fact  
Of what might have been his by royal act?  
Thus God is pleased, to humble and to raise:  
Thus, he by several names, and several ways,  
The world doth govern. Yea, thus, even in one nation,  
And in one State, he makes much alteration  
In forms of Government; oft changing that  
Which is but accidental to a State.  
And, such his justice, and his Wisdom is,  
That he preserveth by the means of this,  
Those things which do essentially pertain  
To that great Power, which over all doth reign.  
Nor is he pleased thu● it should be done  
In States that merely civil are alone▪  
But, also, in the Church's governments,  
Allows the change of outward accidents.  
Yea, they to whom he gives the oversights  
Of some particular Church, may change old Rites,  
The Customs, Forms, or Titles, as occasions  
Are offered them; or, as the Times, or Nations,  
Require a change: provided so, that they  
Take nothing which essential is, away;  
Nor add what shall repugn or prejudice  
God's Laws, his Kingdom, or the Liberties  
Of them that ar● his people. For, in what  
Hath any Church a pow●r, if not in tha●  
Which is indifferent? Or, in what I pray  
Will men the Church authority obey,  
If not in such like things? O●, who should be  
The judge what is indifferent, if not she?  
A private Spirit knows what be●t agrees  
With his own fancy; but the Church best se●  
What fit● t●e Congregation. From what gives  
Offence to one▪ another man receives  
Much comfort: and, his conscience edifies,  
By disciplines, which many do despise▪  
A Parish is a little Diocese;  
And, as of Cities, Towns, and Villages,  
A Bishopric consists: so, that doth rise  
By ●ythings, Hamlets, and by Families.  
And little difference would be in the same,  
(Excepting in the largeness and the name)  
I● their opinions were allowed of all,  
Who savour not the style Epis●opall:  
Fo●, every Priest would then usurp the same  
Authority, whereof o● some hate the name.  
Yea, many a one would then his Parish make  
A little Popedom, and upon him take  
(Considering his mean● power) as much as h●  
That Universal Bishop claims to be:  
And, prove more p●oud, and troublesome, than they  
Against whose lordliness they now inveigh.  
This therefore is my Rule; that Government  
(What e'er it be) in which to me God ●ent  
My birth and breeding; that, until my end,  
I will obey, and to my power defend.  
Yea, though it tyrannize, I will denay  
No more obedience, then by Law I may:  
Even by those Laws and Customs which do stand  
In force, and unrepealed in that Land.  
What right another had, ere I was borne,  
Or how, or for what sin, God's hand hath torn  
His Kingdom from him, I will never care;  
Let them go answer that who Subjects were,  
(When lost it was) and had that means, and calling,  
And years, which might prevented have his falling.  
Or should another Country take me home  
As one of hers; when thither I did come  
I would nor seek, nor wish to innovate  
The Titles, or the Custome● of that State,  
To what some other Country's better thought:  
But, leave such things to those to whom I ought.  
And, there, if any Faction shall constrain  
That I one pa●t must take, I will maintain  
What bore the Sovereignty when I came thither;  
And, I and that will stand and fall together.  
The same obedience, also, keep I shall.  
To governments Ecclesiastical  
Where e'er I come; if nothing they command  
Which doth God's word, essentially, withstand:  
Or, indirectly, or directly, thwart  
His glory, or the purity pervert  
Of Christian Principles; nor further strife,  
Nor c●use, nor countenance an evil life.  
The Hye●archy, here, I will obey,  
And reverence, while I in England stay.  
In Sco●land if I lived, I would deny  
No due respect to their Presbytery.  
G●neva should I visit, I would there  
〈◊〉 myself to what their customs were.  
Yea, wheresoever I am, I will suppose  
The Spirit in that Church much better knowe●  
What best that place befitteth, than I do:  
And, I will live conformed thereunto,  
In every thing that's me●rly politic,  
And injures not the Doctrines Catholic.  
To every temporal power I'll be the same,  
By whatsoever cognizance, or name,  
M●n please to call it. If I should be sent  
To Poland, where a mixed government  
Established is; I would not t●ll them, there,  
That any other Custom better were.  
Were I in Switzerland, I would maintain  
●●mocrity; and, think to make it plain,  
That for these Times, those Cannon's, and that Nation.  
There could not be a better Domination.  
In Venice, far before a Monarchy  
I would p●efer an aristocraty.  
In Spái●e, and France, and in Great Britain here,  
I hold no Governments more perfect are  
Then Monarchies. And, if Gods will should be,  
Beneath a Tyrant to envassaile me,  
I would persuade myself, that heavy yoke  
Were best, for some respects; and, to the stroke  
Even of an i●on Mace would subject be,  
In body▪ with a mind that should be free  
From his enforcement, (●f he did withstand,  
Or bid me what Gods Law doth countermand.)  
There is, I know, a middle-way that lies  
Even just betwixt the two extremities,  
Which to sedition, and to faction tend.  
To find which tract, my whole desire I bend;  
And wish it followed more. For, if we tread  
That harmless path, we cannot be misled;  
Nor shamed, though blamed we be. To every man  
I fain wou●d give his due; and all I can  
I do endeavour it. I would not wrong  
My Country; neither take what doth belong  
To Cesar: nor infringe, or prejudice,  
The Universal Church's liberties;  
Nor for her outward Discipline prefer  
Or censure, any Church particular;  
Or any State, but as befit it may,  
His Muse, which nought but needful truths doth say.  
Nor have I any purpose to withdraw  
Obedience, or respect from any Law  
That's positive; or, to dishearten from  
Those Customs, which a Christian state become.  
If such Divinity, as this were true,  
The Queen should not have needed to pursue  
Poor Naboth, as she did; or, so contrive  
His death; since by the King's Prerogative,  
She might have got his Vineyard. Nor would God  
Have scourged that murder with so keen a rod,  
O● Ahab, had he asked but his due.  
For, he did neither plot, nor yet pursue  
The murder; nor (for aught that we can tell)  
Had knowledge of the deed of jezabel.  
Till God revealed it by the Prophet to him.  
Nor is it said, that Naboth wrong did do him,  
Or disrespect; in that he did not yield,  
●o sell, or give, or to exchange his Field.  
The jewish Commonwealth did so instate,  
That, their possessions none could alienate,  
But for a time; who ever, for his money,  
Or in exchange, desired their patrimony.  
And▪ doubtless, we offend, who at this day  
Those Freedoms give, or lose, or sell away,  
Which were in common right possessed of old,  
By our Forefathers; and, continued should  
To all their aftercommers. For, although  
We may dispose of what pertains unto  
Our persons: yet, those dues which former ages  
Have left unto us for our heritage's,  
(And whereunto, the child that borne must be,  
Hath every whit as good a right as we)  
Those dues we should preserve with all our might,  
By pleading of our just and ancient right,  
In humble wise; if so the sovereign state  
Our Freedoms shall attempt to violate.  
But, when by peaceful means we cannot save it,  
We to the pleasure of the King must leave it,  
And unto God our judge: For all the power  
In us, consists in saying, This is our.  
A King is for a blessing, or a turf:  
And therefore though a Feole he were, or worse,  
A Tyrant, or ●n Ethnic) no man may  
So much as in their private closerts, pray  
Against his person; though they may petition  
Against the wickedness of his condition.  
Nor, is this sufferance due to those alone,  
Who subject are unto a Monarch's throne,  
But, from all those who either subjects are  
To mixed Governments, or popular.  
For, though irregularities appear  
In every State; because but men they are  
Whom God exalts to ●ule: yet, it is he  
By whom all Governments ordained be.  
And every Government (although the Name  
Be different) is in effect the same.  
In Monarchies, the Counsel (as it were  
An Aristocracy) one while doth bear  
The sway of all▪ and though they name the King▪  
Yet, him they overrule in every thing.  
Sometime a●●ine, the popular voice we see,  
Doth awe the Counsel, when in them there be  
Some popular Spirits. Aristocracies  
Are otherwhile the same with Monarchies.  
For, one great man among them gets the power,  
From all the rest, and like an Emperor,  
Doth act his pleasure. And we know 'tis common.  
To have some foolish Favourite, or Woman,  
To govern him. So, in a popular State,  
Affaires are managed by the self same fate;  
And, either one or more, away do steal  
The people's hearts, and sway the Commonweal.  
Thus God is pleased, to humble and to raise:  
Thus, he by several names, and several ways,  
The world doth govern. Yea, thus▪ even in one nation,  
And in one State, he makes much alteration  
In forms of Government; oft changing that  
Which is but accedentall to a State.  
And, such his justice, and his Wisdom is,  
That he preserveth by the means of this,  
Those things which do essentially pertain  
To that great Power, which over all doth reign.  
Nor is he pleased thus it should be done  
In States that merely civil are alone;  
But, also, in the Church's governments,  
Allows the change of outward accidents.  
Yea, they to whom he gives the oversights  
Of some particular Church, may change old Rites,  
The Customs, Forms, or Titles, as occasions  
Are offered them; or, as the Times or Nations,  
Require a change: provided so, that they  
Take nothing which essential is, away;  
Nor add what shall repugn or prejudice  
God's Laws, his Kingdom, or the Liberties  
Of them that are his people. For, in what  
Hath any Church a pow●r, if not in ●hat  
Which is indifferent? Or, in what I pray  
Will men the Church authority obey,  
If not in such like things? O●, who should be  
The Iudg● what is indifferent, if not she?  
A private Spirit knows what be●● agrees  
With his own fancy; but the Church best se●  
What fit● the Congregation. From what gives  
Offence to one; another man receives  
Much comfort: and, his conscience edifies,  
By disciplines, which many do despise▪  
Nor h●ve I any thought to scandalise,  
Or speak amiss of Principalities;  
Or, to traduce men's persons: but, I fall  
On errors of men's lives in general,  
And, on those great Abuses, which I see  
To blemish every Calling and Degree.  
Of Dignities and Persons, I observe  
All me●nes I can, their honours to preserus,  
When I reprove their faults. And, even as he  
That hunteth Foxes, where Lambs feeding be,  
May fright that harmless flock, and suffer blame  
Of some Bystanders, (knowing not his Game)  
When from his Dog●, those Innocents' are free,  
And none but their devourers bitten be.  
So, though my reprehensions, often are  
Mistake by foolish Readers; they are far  
From reprehending those, or taxing that  
Which is unfitting for my shooting at.  
I speak those things which will advantage rather  
Than harm: and hence this blinded age may gather  
M●ch light. This little Volume doth relate  
Nought else but what is like to be our Fate;  
If sin increase; and what in former times  
Did fall on other Nations for their crimes,  
I utter what our welfare may increase,  
And help confirm us in a happy peace;  
Which they will never compass, who p●●sue  
To speak what's pleasing, rather than what's true.  
How ever, here my thoughts delivered be:  
Let God as he shall please, deliver me.  
And if what here is mentioned, thou dost he●●  
(Oh Britain!) in those times that sh●ll succeed,  
It may prevent much loss, and make thee shun  
Those mischiefs, whereby Kingdoms are undone.  
But, to thy other sins, if thou shalt add  
Rebellions (as false Prophets will persuade)  
Which likely are to follow, when thou shalt  
In thy profession of Religion halt:  
Then, will thy Kings and People scourge each other,  
For their offences, till both fall together:  
By weakening of your powers, to make them way,  
Who seek and look for that unhappy day.  
Then, shall disorder every where abound,  
And neither just nor pious man be found.  
The best shall be a Briar or a Thorn,  
By whom their neighbours shall be scratched & to●●e.  
Thy Princes shall to nothing condescend  
For any merit just, or pious end;  
But either for increasing of their treasure,  
Or for accomplishing their wilful pleasure:  
And un●o what they ●ell or deign for meed,  
There shall be given little trust or heed.  
For, that which by their words confirm they shall,  
(The royal Seals uniting therewithal)  
A toy shall frustrate; and a gift shall make  
Their strictest Order no effect to take.  
The judge, without a bribe, no Cause shall end:  
No man shall trust his brother, or his friend:  
The parents and the children shall despi●e  
And hate, and spoil each other: she that lies  
Within her husband's bosom, shall betray him:  
They who thy people should protect, shall stay them:  
The aged ●hall regarded be of none:  
The poor shall by the rich be trodden on:  
Such grievous inf●olencies, everywhere  
Shall acted be; that good and bad shall fear  
In thee to dwell; and, men discreet shall h●te  
To be a Ruler, or a Magistrate;  
When they behold (without impenitence)  
So much injustice, and such violence.  
And, when thy wickedness this height shall gain,  
To which (no doubt) it will e'er long attain▪  
If thou proceed: Then, from the bow that's bend  
(And half way dr●wne already) shall be ●ent  
A mortal arrow; and it pierce thee shall  
Quite through the head, the liver, and the gall.  
The Lord shall call, and whistle from afar,  
For those thy enemies that fiercest are:  
For those thou fearest most; and they shall from  
Their Country's, like a whi●le wind hither come.  
They shall nor sleep, nor stumble, nor untie  
Their garments, till within thy fields they lie.  
Sharp shall their arrows be, and strong their bow.  
Their faces shall as full of horror show  
As doth a Lions. Like a bolt of thunder,  
Their troops of horse shall come, & tread thee under  
Their iron feet. Thy foes shall eat thy bread,  
And with thy flocks both clothed be, and fed.  
Thy Dwellers, they shall carry from their own,  
To Countries which their fathers have not known●▪  
And, thither shall such mischiefs them pursue,  
That they who seek the pitfall to eschew,  
Shall in a snare be taken. If they shall  
Escape the sword, a Serpent in the wall  
To death shall sting them: yea (although they hap  
To shun a hundred plagues) they shall not scape;  
But, with new dangers, still be cha●'d about,  
Until that they are wholly rooted out.  
The Ploughman, then, shall be afraid to sow;  
Artificers their labour shall forgo▪  
The Merchant man shall cross the Seas no more▪  
(Except to fly and seek some other shore)  
Thy ablest-m●n shall faint: thy wise-ones, then,  
Shall know themselves to be but foolish men.  
And th●y who built and planted by oppression,  
Shall leave their gettings to the foes possession.  
Yea, God will scourge thee, England, ●even times more  
With seven times greater Plagues than heretofore.  
Then, thy Allies their friendship shall withdraw;  
And, they that of thy greatness stood in awe,  
Shall say (in scorn) Is this the valiant Nation,  
That had throughout the world such reputation,  
By victories upon the shore? Are these  
That people, which were masters of the s●as,  
And grew so mighty? yea that petty Nation,  
That were not worthy of thy indignation,  
Shall mock thee too; and all thy former fame,  
Forgot shall be, or mentioned to thy shame.  
Mark how God's plague's were doubled on the I●ew●  
When they his mild corrections did abuse:  
Mark what, a● last upon their Land h● sent;  
And, look thou for the se●e same punishment,  
If them thou imitatest. I or their sin,  
At fi●st, but eight years' Bondage they were in.  
Their wickedness grew more; and God did then,  
To Eglon, make them slaves, ●ight years and ten.  
They disobeying, still, the God of heaven;  
Their years of Servitude were twenty seven,  
To jabin and to Midian. Then, prevailed  
Philistia fo●ty years; and, when that failed,  
To make ●hem of their evil ways repent,  
There was, among themselves, a fatal rent;  
And, they oft scourged each other. Still, they trod  
The self same path; and, than the hand o● God  
Brought Ashu● on them; and, did make them bear  
His heavy yo●ke, until the seventieth year.  
And last of all the Rom●ne Empire came,  
Which from their Country rooted out their Name.  
That foolish project which they did embrace,  
To keep them in possession o● their place,  
Did lose it. And, like Cain, that vagrant Nation,  
Hath now remained in fearful Desolation  
Nigh sixteen hundred years: and, (whatsoever  
Some lately dream) in vain, they look for he●e  
A temporal Kingdom. For, as long ago  
Their Psalmist said; No Prophet doth foresh●w  
This thraldoms end. Nor shall it end until  
The Gentiles their just number do fulfil:  
Which is unlike to be until th●t hour▪  
In which there shall be no more temporal power,  
Or temporal K●ngdome. Therefore▪ gather them  
(Oh Lord▪) unto thy new jerusalem,  
In t●y due time. For, ye●, unto that p●ace  
They have a promised right, by thy mere grace.  
To those who shall repent, thy firm Electiòn  
Continues in this temporal rejection.  
Oh! ●hew thy mercy in their desolation,  
That thou mayst honoured be in th●ir salvation.  
Yea, teach us also, by their fearful fall,  
To harken to thy voice, when th●u do●t ca●l;  
(Lest thou in anger, unto us protest,  
That we ●h●ll never come into thy rest)  
For, we ●ave followed them in all their sin:  
Su●●, and so m●●y, have our warnings been:  
An●▪ 〈◊〉 thou st●●l prolong not thy compassion▪  
To us belongs the self same Desolation.  
And it will ●ho●tly come▪ with all those terrors  
T●at were on them inflicted, for their errors.  
Then, woe shall be to th●m, th●● heretofore  
By joining house to hou●●, 〈◊〉 the poor▪  
And field have into field incorporated,  
Until th●ir Tow●esh●ps were depopulated.  
For, desolate their dwelling shall be made:  
Even in their blood the Lord shall bathe his blade:  
And they that have by avarice, and wiles,  
Erected Palaces and costly Piles;  
Shall think, the stones and timbers, in the wall,  
Aloud, to God, for vengeance on them call.  
Then, woe sh●ll be to them who early rise  
To eat, and drink, and play, and wanton●ize;  
Still adding sin to sin: for, they the pain  
Of cold, and thirst, and hunger, shall sustain;  
And be the servile slaves of them that are  
Their Foes; as to their Lusts they captives were.  
Then▪ woe to them who darkness more have loved  
Then l●ght; and good advice h●ve disapproved:  
For, they shall wander in a crooked pa●●,  
Which neither light▪ nor end, nor c●m●ort hath  
And, when for Guides, and Couns●ll they do cry,  
Not one sh●●l pity them, who passes by.  
Then, woe to them that have corrupted ●in,  
To justify the wicked in his sin;  
Or, for a bribe, the righteous to condemn:  
For, flames (as on the chaff) sha●l seize on them:  
Their bodies to the dunghill shall be cast;  
Their flower shall turn to dust; their flock shall waste▪  
And all the glorious t●●les they have worn,  
Shall but increase their infamy and scorn.  
Then, woe to them that have been raised aloft  
By good men's ruins; and by laying soft  
And easy pillows, under great men's arms,  
To make them pleased in their alluring charms.  
Then, woe to them, who being grown a●raid  
Of some nigh peril, sought unlawful aid;  
And, setting God's protection quite aside,  
Upon their own inventions have relied.  
For, God their fo●lish hopes will bring to nought;  
On them, their feared mischief sh●ll be brought▪  
And, all their wit and strength, shall not suffi●e,  
To heave that sorrow off, which on them lies.  
Yea, then, oh Britain! woe to every one,  
That hath without repentance evil don●:  
For, those who do n●r heed, no● bear in mind  
His visit, Gods reaching hand will find;  
And they with howling cries and lamentation,  
Shall sue and seek, in vain, for his compassion.  
Because they careless of his M●rcies were,  
Till in consuming wrath he did ●ppea●e.  
But, still, we set far off that evil day;  
In dull security we pass away  
Our precious time; and with urine hopes and toys,  
Build up a trust which ●v'ry puff destroys.  
And therefore, still when healing is expected,  
New and unlooked for troubles are effected.  
We gather Armies, and we Fleets prepare;  
And, then, both strong and safe we think we are.  
But, when we look for victories, and glory,  
What follows, but events that make us sorry?  
And 'tis God's mercy that we turn our faces  
With so few losses, and no more disgraces.  
For, what are most of those whom we commend  
Such act●ons to; and whom we forth do send  
To fight those Battles, which the Lords we call,  
But, such as never fight for him at all?  
Whom dost thou make thy Captains, and dispos●  
Such Offices unto, but unto those  
(Some few excepted) who procure by friends▪  
Command and pay, to serve their private ends?  
Their language, and their practices declare,  
That entertained by God's Foe they were.  
Their whoring, swearing, and their drunkenness,  
Do far more plainly to the world express  
What General they do belong unto,  
Then all their Feathers and their Ensigns do.  
These, by their unrepented sins, betray  
Thy Cause. By these, the honour, and the day  
Is lost: and when thou hopest tha● thy trouble  
Shall have an end, thy danger waxeth double.  
We wished for Parliaments; and them we made  
Our God: ●or, all t●e hope that many had  
To remedy the public discontent,  
Was by t●e wisdom of a Parliament.  
Well; Parliaments we had; and what in being,  
Succeedeth ye●, but greater disagreeing,  
With greater grievances than heretofore?  
And reason good: for, we depended more  
On outward means, then on God's will that sends  
All punishments; and all afflictions ●nds.  
Believe it should our Parliaments a●ree  
In every motion: should our sovereign be  
So gracious, as to condescend to all  
Which for his weal and ours, propose we s●all;  
Even that Agreement, till our sins we leave,  
Shall make us but secure; a●d help to wove  
A snare, by whose fine threads we shall be caught,  
Before we see the mischieve that is wrought.  
Whilst we by Parliaments do chiefly se●k  
Mere temporal ends, the King shall do the like:  
Yea, till in them we mutually agree  
To help each other; and unfeigned be  
In labouring for a Christian Reformation;  
Each Meeting shall beget a new vexation.  
This Island hath some sense of what she ails,  
And very much, these evil times bewails:  
But, not so much our sins do we lament,  
Or mourn that God for them is discontent,  
As that the Plague's they bring disturb our pleasures,  
Increase our dangers, and exhausted our treasure●.  
And, for these causes, now and then we ●ast,  
And pray, as long as half a day doth last.  
For, if the Sun do but a little clear  
That cloud, from which a tempest we do fear●▪  
What kind of grief we took, we plainly show  
By those rejoicings which thereon ensue:  
For, in the stead of such du● thankfulness,  
As Christian zeal obligeth to express;  
To Pleasure (not to God) we sacrifice;  
Renew our sins; revive our vanities;  
And, all our vowed gratitude expires,  
In Games, in Guns, in Bells, in Healths, or Fires▪  
We feign would be at peace; but few men go  
That way, ●s y●t, whereby it may be so.  
We have not that humility which must  
Effect it: we ●re f●l●e, and cannot trust  
Each other▪ no nor God with true confessions:  
Which shows that we abhor not our transgressions▪  
It proves, t●at ●f our errors, we in heart  
Repent not, neither purpose to depart  
F●om any f●lly 〈◊〉 or all they that are  
Sincerely penitent▪ do nothing fear  
So much as t●●ir own ●uil●; nor seek to gain●  
Aught more, then to be reconciled again:  
And, they that ar●●hus minded, never can  
Be long unreconciled to God, or man.  
When we should ●●oop, we most ourselves exalt;  
And (though we be) would no● be thought in fault.  
Nay, tho●gh we faulty be, ●nd thought, & known,  
And proved so; and ●ce that we are th●owne  
By our apparent errors, into straits,  
From which we cannot g●t by all our sleights:  
Yet, still ourselves we vau●t and justify,  
And struggle, ●ill the sn●re we faster ●ye.  
We sin, and we to boast it have no shame,  
Yet s●●rme when othe●s do our folly's name:  
And rather than we will so much as say  
We did amiss (though that might wipe away  
The stain of all) I think that some of us  
So wilful are, so proud, and mischievous,  
That we ourselves w●uld ruin, and our Nation,  
To keep our shadow of a Reputation.  
Oh! if we are thus headstrong, 'tis unlike  
We any part of our proud sails will strike  
Till they have sunk our Vessel in the Sea,  
Or by th● furious winde●, are torn away.  
'twere better▪ tho, we did confess our wound,  
Then hide it till our s●ate grew more unsound.  
'twere better we some wealth, or office lost,  
Then keep them, till our lives, and all, it cost:  
And therefore, let us wisely be advised,  
Before we by a tempest be surprised.  
Down first with our Top-gallants and our Flags;  
In storms▪ the skilfullest Pilots make no brags.  
Let us (if that be not enough) l●t f●ll  
Our Misne-yeard, and strike our topsails all.  
If this we find be not enough to do▪  
Strike Fote-saile, Spritsail, yea and Main-saile too.  
And, rather than our Ship should sink or rend;  
Let's over board, ●oods, mast, and tackling send.  
Save but the Hull, the Master, and the Men;  
And we may l●ve to scour the seas again.  
Believe it England, howsoever some  
(Who should foresee thy plagues before they come)  
Endeavour to persuade thee that thou hast  
A hopeful time▪ and that the wo●st is past.  
Yet I dare boldly tell thee, thou hast nigh  
Worn out God's patience by impiety.  
And, that unless the same we do renew  
By penitence, our folly we shall rue.  
But, what am I, that me thou shouldst believe?  
Or, unto what I tell thee, ●redit give?  
It may be this adulterous Genera●ion  
Expecteth tokens of her desolation;  
And therefore I will give them signs of that  
Which they are almost now arrived at.  
Not signs, so mystical as most of those  
Which did t●e ruin of the Iewes●isclose ●isclose;  
But, signs as evident as are ●he day.  
For, know ye Britanies'▪ that what God did say  
jerusalem's destruction should foresh●w,  
He spoke to every State that should ensue.  
And, tha● he nought of her, or to her sp●ke,  
For hers alone, but also for our sake.  
One sign that God's long-suffring we have tired,  
And that ●is patience is almost expired,  
Is this; that many judgements he hath sent,  
And still removed them e'er we did repent.  
For, God (even by his Holiness) did swear,  
(Saith Amos) such a Nation ●e will tear  
With Briers, and with Fish hooks rend away  
The whole posterity of such as they.  
Cl●ane teeth (saith God) I gave them; and with bread  
In many places, them I scantly fed;  
And yet they sought me not: Then I restrained  
The dews of heaven; upon this Field I reigned,  
And not on that; yea, to one City came  
Some two or three, to quench their thirsty ●lame;  
Yet, to ret●rne to me, no care they took:  
With Blast then, and Mildews, I them struck;  
And mixed among their Fruits the Palmerworm;  
Yet, they their lives did not a jot reform:  
Then did I send the Pestilence (said he)  
Devoured by the Sword, ●heir young men be;  
Their Horse are slain, and up to heaven ascends  
Their stink; yet I discover no amends.  
The self same things thy God in thee hath done,  
Oh En●land! yet, here follows thereupon  
So small amendment, that they are a sign  
To thee; and their sharp judgement, will be thine.  
The second Tohen which doth fore declare  
When Cities, States, and Realms, declining are,  
Even Christ himself hath left us: For, (saith he)  
When Desolation shall approaching be,  
Of wars, and warlike rumours ye shall hear;  
Rare signs and tokens will in heaven appear;  
Down from the Firmament the Stars sh●ll fall;  
The hearts of many men, then, sail th●m shall;  
There will be many scandals and offences;  
Great Earth quakes, Schisms, Dearths, and Pestilences;  
Realm, Realm; and Nation, Nation shall oppose;  
The nearest friends, shall be the greatest foes.  
Against the Church shall many tyrannize;  
Deceivers, and false Prophets, shall arise;  
In every place shall wickedness abound;  
And, Charity shall very cold be found.  
This, Christ himself did prophecy: And we  
Are doubtless blind, unless con●est it be,  
That at this hour, upon this Kingdom here,  
These ma●ks of Desolation viewed are.  
How often have we s●ene prodigious lights,  
O'erspread ●he f●ce of heaven in moonlesse nights?  
How many dreadful Meteor's have there been  
In this ou● Climate, lately heard and seen?  
Who knoweth nor that but a while ago  
A Blazing Star did threat, if not foreshow  
God's judgements? In what age, tofore, did here  
So many, who did Saints and Stars appear,  
Fall (as it were) from heaven? Or who hath heard  
Of greater Earthquakes, then have lately scared  
These quarters of the world? How oft, the touch  
Of Famine have we had? But, when so much  
Devoured by the Pestilence were we,  
As in this present year our people be?  
Of Wars, and martial rumours, never more  
Wer● heard within these confines heretofore;  
When were all Kingdoms, and all Nations through  
The world, so opposite as they are now?  
We know no Country, whether nigh or far,  
But is engaged, or threatened with some War.  
All places, either present woes bewail;  
Or else things feared make men's hearts to fail.  
False Prophets▪ and Deceivers we have many;  
We scarcely find integrity in any:  
The Name of Christ, begins in every place  
To suffer persecution ●nd disgrace;  
And, we the greatest jeopardies are in,  
Among our neighbours, and our nearest kin.  
Strange Heresies do ev'●ywhere increase,  
Disturbing Zion, and exiling peace.  
Impiety doth multiply. True love  
Grows cold. And, if these tokens do not prove  
Our fall draws on, unless we do amend:  
I know not when our folly shall have end.  
A third apparent sign which doth declare  
When some devouring Plague approacheth near,  
Is when a Nation doth anew begin  
To let Idolatry to enter in;  
And openly, or secretly give place  
To Heresy, where Truth established was:  
Or when like jeroboam, to possess  
An outward profit, or a temporal peace,  
They either change Religions, or devise  
A worship which doth mix Idolatries  
With truth. For this, even for this very crime,  
The King of Ashur, in H●shea's time  
Led Isr●el captive. And, both from the sight  
Of God; and from the house of David quite,  
They were c●t off for ever, and d●d neither  
Serve God nor Idols; but even both together;  
In such a mixed Religion as is that  
Which some among us, now, have aimed at.  
Mark, England; and I prithee mark it well,  
If this offence which ruin'd Israel,  
On thee appear nor: and, if so it be,  
Amend; or look for what it threatens thee.  
The fourth true token which do●h fore express  
The ruin of a Land ●or wickedness,  
Is when the Priest's and Magistrate's begin,  
To grow extremely impudent in fin.  
This Sign, the Prophet Micah●iveth ●iveth us;  
And he (not I) to you cries loudly thus:  
Hear, oh ye house of jacob, and all ye  
That Princes of the house of Is●ael be:  
Ye justice hate; and ye pervert what's good;  
Ye build the wal● of Zion up with blood;  
jerusalem with sin, ye up have reared,  
Your judges pass their censures for reward;  
Your Priests do preach for hire, your Prophets do  
Like them▪ and prophesy for money too.  
And, for this cause shall Zion mount (saith he)  
Even like a ploughed field become to be;  
And like a Forest hill where b●shes grow▪  
The City of jerusalem shall show.  
Change but the names, oh Britain, and that token  
Of desolation, unto the● is spoken.  
For, what this day thy Priests and Princes are▪  
Their actions, and the people's cries declare.  
A fifth sure evidence that God among  
Thy ruins will en●omb thy fame e'er long,  
(If thou repent not) is even this, that thou  
Dost every day the more ungodly grow,  
By how much more the blessed means of grace  
Doth multiply itself in every place.  
God sends unto thee many learned Preachers,  
Apostles, Pastors, and all kind of teachers;  
His Visions, and his Prophecies upon thee  
He multiplies. And (that he might have won thee  
To more sincerity) on all occasions,  
By counsel, by entreaty, and persuasions,  
He hath advised, alured, and besought thee:  
With precept upon precept, he hath taught thee;  
By line on line; by miracle; by reason;  
In every place; in season, out of season;  
By little and by little; and by much  
(Sometime) at once: yet is thy nature such,  
That still thou waxest worse; and in the room  
Of pleasant Grapes, more Thistles daily come:  
And, thou that art so ●aughty, and so proud,  
For this, shal● vanish like an empty cloud;  
And, as a Lion, Leopard, or a Bear,  
Thy God, for this, shall thee in pieces tear.  
If thou suppose my Muse did this devise,  
Go take it from Hosea's prophecies  
The sixth undoubted signal when the last  
Good days of sinful Realms are almost past▪  
Is when the people near to God shall draw  
In word, to make profession of his Law:  
And, by their tongues his praises forth declare;  
Yet, in their hearts from him continue far.  
To such a Land, their destiny displaye●  
Isaiah: for even thus the Prophet says:  
God will produce a marvel in that State,  
And do a work that men shall wonder at;  
The wisdom of their wisest Counsellor,  
Shall perish, and their prudent men shall err.  
On their deep Counsels, sorrow shall attend;  
Their secret plots shall have a dismal end;  
Their giddy projects which they have devised,  
Shall as the Potter's clay be quite despised.  
Like Carmel, Lebanon shall seem; and he  
Like Lebanon, shall make mount Carmel be.  
Their pleasant Fields like Deserts shall appear;  
And, there shall Gardens be, where Deserts are.  
God keep (thou British Ile) this plague from thee▪  
For, signs thereof upon thy Body be.  
Thou of the purest worship mak'st profession;  
Yet, waxest more impure in thy condition.  
Thou boastest of the knowledge of God's word,  
Yet, there unto in manners to accord  
Thou dost refuse. Thou makest protestation  
Of piety; yet hatest reformation.  
Yea▪ when thy tongue doth sing of praise divine,  
T●y heart doth plot some temporal design.  
And, some of those, who in this wise are holy,  
Begin to show their wisdom will be folly.  
●or, when from sight their snares they deepest hide,  
By God Almighty's eyes they are espied.  
The seaventh Symptom of a dreadful blow,  
(If not of a perpetual overthrow)  
Is when a slumbering Spirit doth surprise  
A nation; and hath closed up their ey●s:  
Or when the Prophets and the Seers are  
So clouded, that plain truths do not appear:  
Or when the Visions evidently seen  
Are passed by, as if they had not been:  
Or when, to Nations who can read, God gives  
His Book; and thereof doth unseal the leaves,  
And bids them read the same, which they to do  
Deny; or ●lead unablen●sse thereto.  
Black signs are th●se. For if that Book to them,  
Still dark; or as a Book unsealed seem;  
Or, if they heed no more what here is said,  
Then they that have the Book, and cannot read;  
The judgements, last repeated, are the doom,  
That shall on such a stupid Nation come.  
This Sign is come on us; for, lo, unsealed  
God's Book is now among us▪ and revealed  
Are all the Mysteries which do concern  
The children of this present age to learn.  
So well hath he instructed this our Land,  
That we not only read, but understand  
The secrets of his Word. The prophecies  
Of his chief Seers, are before our eyes,  
unveiled: true interpretations  
A●e made, and many proper applications  
Even to ourselves; yet is ou● hea●t so blind,  
That what we know and see, we do not mind.  
We hear, and speak, and much ado we keep;  
But we as sens●lesse are as men asleep  
What th●n we do. Yea, wh●le that we are talking,  
What snares are in the way where we are wal●ing,  
We heed not what we say, b●t pass along;  
And many times, ●re fast ●●snar'd among  
Those mischiefs, and those faults we did condemn,  
Before our tongues have left to mention th●m.  
For our neglect of God in ●ormer times,  
(Or for some present unrepented crimes)  
A slumbering Spirit●o ●o possesseth us,  
That our estate is wondrous d●ngerous.  
We s●e and hear, and tell to one another  
Our perils, yet we headlong hast together  
To wilful ruin: and are grown so mad,  
That when our friends a better course persuade,  
Or seek to st●p us (when they s●e we run  
That way in which we cannot ruin shun)  
We persecute those men with all our soul,  
That we may damn our s●lves without control.  
The eight plain Sign, by which I understand  
That some devouring mischief is at hand,  
Is that maliciousness which I do see  
Among ●rsfessors of one Faith, to be.  
We that have b●t one Father, and one Mother,  
Do persecute, and torture one another.  
So ho●ly, we oppose not Antichrist,  
As we our fellow brethren do resist.  
The Protestant, the Protestant defies;  
And, we ourselves, ourselves do scandalise.  
Our Church we have exposed to more scorn;  
And her fai●e seamlesse Vestment rend, and torn,  
By our own fury, more than by their spite  
Who are to us directly opposite.  
To save an Apple, we the Tree destroy;  
And, quarrels make for every needless toy:  
From us, if any brother differ shall  
But in a crotcher, we upon him fall  
As eagerly, and with as bitter hate▪  
As if we knew him for a Reprobate.  
And, what event all this doth signify,  
Saint Paul (by way of caveat) do●h imply.  
Take heed (s●ith he) lest while ye bite ●ach other,  
You, o● yourselves, consumed be together.  
Another S●gne which causeth me to fear  
That our confusion is approaching near,  
Are those Disunions whi●h I have espied,  
In Church and Commonwealth, this present tide.  
We cannot hide th●se rents; for they do gape,  
So wide, that some their jaws can hardly scape.  
Would God, the way to close them up we knew,  
Else, what they threaten, time will shortly show:  
For, all men know, a City or a Land,  
Within itself divided, ca●n●t stand▪  
The last black sign that here I will repeat,  
(Which doth to kingdom's desolation threat)  
Is when the hand of God Almighty brings  
The pe●ple, into bondage, to their Kin●s.  
I say, when their own K●ng shall take delight,  
Those whom he should protect, to rob, and smite.  
When they who fed the Sheep▪ the Sheep shall kill,  
And eat them; and suppose they do no ill.  
When God gives up a Nation unto those  
That are their neighbours, that they may, as foes,  
Devour them. When (oh England!) thou shalt see  
This come to pa●se, a sign it is to thee  
That God is angry; and a certain token  
That into pieces thou shalt quite be broken:  
I● not by so ra●ne strength, by force at home;  
A●d, that thy greater torment will become.  
This Vengeance, and this fearful preparation,  
Of bringing ruin on a sinful N●tion,  
(If they remain impenitent) the Lord  
Doth menace; and, by Zachary●ecord ●ecord,  
To make us wise. Oh! let us therefore learn▪  
What now is coming on us, to discern.  
For, (well considered if all things were)  
From this Captivity we seem not far.  
It now already seeme● to be projected;  
Nay, little wants of being quite effected.  
For, they that are our Shepherd's, now, are they  
That fleece us, and endeavour to betray  
Our lives and freedoms. Those great men that be  
Our neighbour's (and can claim no more than we)  
Would sell us: and, attempt to gain a power,  
Whereby they may, at pleasure, us devour:  
And, h●d not we a King, as loath to make  
His people slaves, as from himself to take  
His lawful right; (or, were there not some let  
Unheeded, which is unremov●d yet)  
ere this (and justly too) the hand of heaven  
Into perpetual bondage us had given.  
And, if we do not more Gods will regard,  
That mischief is but for a time deferred,  
Our King is just and merciful; and th●  
Some may (with loyal, and a gilded s●ow  
Of pious equity) a while ●ssay  
To lead his judgement in his youth astray;  
Yet, God (I hope) will keep him so, that he  
Shall still be just, (though we ungodly be)  
And, make him in the fitteft hour express  
His royal judgement, and his Righteousness:  
But, if God should from us (as God forbid)  
Take him, as once he good josiah did,  
He also will (unless we mend) perchance,  
In times to come, a Shepherd here advance,  
Who shall not plead for what his young men say  
Is just; but, take the same, perforce, away.  
An Idol Shep●eard, who shall neither care  
To find or seek, for those that strayed are;  
Nor guard the Lamb●; nor cure what hath a wound;  
Nor cherish those that fi●me to him are found;  
But, take the fat, and rob them of their fleeces;  
And eat their flesh; and b●eak their bones in pieces.  
More Signs I might, as yet, commemorate,  
To show God's pa●●ence is nig● out of date.  
But, these are signs enough▪ an● so apparent,  
That twenty more w●ll give no better warrant  
To what I speak. Yet, if these ●●lse appear,  
That's one sign more, our fall approacheth near.  
Be mindful, therefore, while it is to Day;  
And, let no good occasion slip away.  
Now rend your hearts, ye Britain's, wash & rinse them  
From all corruption: from all evil cleanse them.  
Go offer up the pleasing sacrifice  
Of Righteousness: from folly turn your eyes.  
Seek peace, and follow it, with strict pursuit:  
Relieve the needy; judgement execute:  
Refresh the weary; right the fatherless:  
The strangers, and the widows wants redress:  
Give praise to God; depend with lowly faith,  
O● him; and what his holy Spirit saith:  
Remember what a price thy ransom cost;  
And, now redeem the time that thou hast lost.  
Return, retain thou (oh back-sliding Nation)  
And, let thy tears prevent thy desolation.  
As yet, thou mayst return; for, Gods embrace  
Is open ●or thee, if thou hast the grace,  
To give it meeting▪ Yet, repentance may  
Prevent the mischiefs of that evil day,  
Which here is menaceed: yet, thou mayst have peace,  
And by discreet endeavouring, increase  
Each outward grace, and every inward thing▪  
W●i●h will additions to thy comfort bring.  
If this thou do; these fearful threatenings all,  
(Repea●ed h●re) to mercy's change he shall.  
We cannot say, it will excuse thee f●om  
All chastisement; or that no blow shall come.  
For, peradventure, thou so long hast been  
Unpenitent, that some loud-cring sin  
Hath waked that Vengeance, which upon thy crimes  
Mu●t fall (as once in Ier●mi●hs 〈◊〉)  
Without prevention; to exemplify  
God's hate of sin to all posterity.  
But, sure we are, that if he doth not stay  
H●● threatened hand, the stroke that he doth lay  
Will fall the lighter; and become a bl●ssing,  
Thy future joys, and virtues more encreafing▪  
Then all that larg● prosperity and rest  
Which thou, so long together, hast possessed.  
God (wi●h a writers ●●ke horn) one hath sent,  
To set a mark on th●m that shall repent;  
And bids him promise's in his N●me, that they  
Who shall (recanting) leave their evil way,  
And in th●ir heart●, bewail the grievous crimes,  
And miseries of Zion, in their times;  
That they shall be secure, and s●●ed from  
The hand of these Destroyer's▪ which must come:  
Or else by their destruction find a way  
To that repairing which will ne●re d●cay.  
Yea thou, oh Britain! if thou couldst reform  
Thy manners, mightst expel the dreadful storm  
Now threatened; and thy foes (who triumph would,  
The ruin of thy glory to behold▪  
And jeer thee when thou fallest) soon s●all see  
Thy God returning, and avenging thee  
On their insultings: yea, with angry blows  
He would effect their shameful overthrows.  
Or turn their hearts. For when from sin men cease,  
God makes their enemies, and them, at peace.  
Moreover, thou shalt have in thy possessing,  
Each inward grace▪ and every outward blessing;  
Thy fruitful H●rds shall in ●ich pastures feed;  
Thy soil shall plenteously increase thy seed;  
Thy Flock, shall neither Shepherds want nor meat;  
Clean provander, thy stabled beast shall ●at●;  
There shall be Rivers in thy Dales; and Fountains  
Upon the tops of all thy noblest Mountains:  
The Moon shall cast upon thee beams as bright  
As now the Sun; and with a sevenfold l●ght  
The Sun shall bl●sse thee▪ He that reigns in thee,  
To all his people reconciled shall be;  
And they shall find themselves no whit deceived,  
In those good hopes which are of him conceived:  
But he, (and they, wh● shall his throne possess  
When he is gone) shall reign in righteousness;  
And be more careful of thy weal (by far)  
Than parents of their children's profits are  
Thy Magistrate's, with wisdom shall proceed  
In all that shall be cou●ell'd or decreed.  
As Harbours, w●en it blows tempestuously;  
As Rivers, unto places over-dry;  
As Shadows a●e to men oppressed with heat;  
As to a hungry stomach, wholesome meat;  
To thee, so welcome, and as much con●enting,  
Thy Nobles will become, on thy repenting.  
Thy Priests shall preach true doctrine in thy Teples;  
And make it fruitful by their good examples.  
Thy God, with righteousness shall them array,  
And hear and answer them, when they do pray.  
Thy eyes, that much are blinded, shall be clear;  
Thy ea●es that yet are deafened, then shall hear;  
Thy tongue, that s●āmers now, shall then sp●ak plain;  
Thy heart shall perfect understanding gain;  
The preaching of the Gospel shall increase;  
Thy God shall make thy comforts and thy peace,  
To flow as doth a River; they who plant,  
The blessing of their labour shall not want;  
Thy poorest people shall at full be fed;  
The meek, shall of no ty●a●t stand in dread;  
Thou shalt have grace and knowledge, to avoid  
Those things, whereby thy r●st may be annoyed;  
T●ou shalt possess thy wished blessings all;  
And, God shall hear thee still before thou call.  
But, as a Chime, wh●se frets disord red grow,  
Can never cause itself in t●ne to go,  
Nor chime at all, until some cunning hand  
Doth make the same again in order stand:  
Or, as the Clock, whose plumbers are not weight,  
Strike● sometimes one for three, and six for eight;  
So fareth it with men and kingdoms all,  
When once from their integrity they fall.  
They may their motion●urry ●urry out of frame,  
But have no power to rectify the same  
That curious hand which first those pieces wrought,  
Must mend them still; or they will still be nought.  
To thee I therefore now my speech convert,  
Thou famous Artist, who Creator art  
Of heaven and earth, and of those goodly spheres,  
That now have whirled many thousand years,  
(And shall until thy pleasure ●ives it ending)  
In their perpetual motion, without mending.  
Oh! be thou pleased, by thy powerful hand,  
To set in order this depraved Land.  
Our whole foundation, Lord, is out of course;  
And every thing still groweth worse and wor●e;  
The way that leads quite from thee, we have taken;  
Thy Covenant, and all thy Laws are b●oke;  
In mischiefs, and in folly, is our pleasure;  
Our crying sins have almost filled their measure;  
Yet, every day we add a new transgression,  
And still abuse thy favour and compassion.  
Our Governors, our Prelates, and our Nobles,  
Have by their sins increase, increased our trouble's.  
Our Priests, and all the People, have misgone;  
All kind of evil deeds, we all have done.  
We have not lived as those means of ●race  
Require, which thou hast gra●ted to this place:  
But ●ather wo●se than many who have had  
Less● helps then we, of being better made.  
No Nation under heaven so lewd hath been,  
That had so m●ny warnings for their sin,  
And such perpetual callings on, as we,  
To leave our wickedness, and turn to thee.  
Yet, we in stead of turning, further went;  
And when thy Mercies and thy Plagues were sent  
To pull us back; they seldom wrought our stay,  
Or moved to repentance one whole day.  
No blessing▪ no affliction, hath a power  
To move compunction i● us, for one hour,  
Unless thou work it. All that I can speak  
(And all that I have spoken) till thou break  
And mollify the heart, will fruitless be,  
Not only in my hearers, but in me.  
I● thou prepare not way for more esteem  
All these Remembrances will foolish seem.  
Nay these, in stead of moving to repent,  
Will indignation move and discontent;  
Which will men's hardened hearts obdurate more,  
And make their fault much greater than before.  
Unless thou give a ●lessing, I may strive  
As well to make a marble stone alive,  
As to effect my purpose: yea, all this  
Like wholesome counsel to a mad man is,  
And, I for my good meaning shall be torn  
In pieces, or exposed be to scorn.  
●or, they against thy word do stop their ear;  
And, wild in disobedience, will not hear.  
In this, we all confess ourselves to blame,  
And that we therefore have deserved shame.  
Yea, Lord we do acknowledge, that for this  
There nothing else to us pertaining is,  
(Respecting our own worth) but desolation,  
And final ●ooting ou●, without compassion.  
But gracious God, though such our merit be,  
Yet, ●ercy f●ll pertaineth unto thee.  
To thee the act of pard'ning and forgiving,  
As much belongs (oh Father everliving)  
As plagues to us: and it were better far  
Our sins had less than their deservings are,  
Then that thy Clemency should be outgone,  
By al● the wickedness that can be done.  
As well as theirs whose lives now left them have,  
Thou canst command those bodies from the gr●ve,  
Who slink, and putrify, and buried be  
In their corruption. Such, oh Lord! are we.  
Oh! call us from this grave; and show thy power  
Upon this much polluted Land of our,  
Which is not only sick of works unholy,  
But almost dead and buried in her folly.  
Forgive us all our slips, our negl●gences,  
Our sins of knowledge, and our ignorances;  
Our daring wickedness; our bloody crimes;  
And all the faults of past and present times.  
Permit not thy just wrath to burn for ●ver;  
In thy displeasure do not still persever;  
But, call us from that pit of Death, and Sin,  
And from that path of Hell which we are in.  
Remember, that this Vineyard hath a Vine,  
Which had her planting by that hand of thine.  
Remember, when from Egypt thou remov'dst it,  
With what entire affection, then, thou lov'dst it.  
How thou didst weed and dress it heretofore;  
How thou didst fence it from the forest Bore;  
And think▪ how sweet a vintage than it brought,  
When thy first work upon her thou hadst wrought▪  
Remember, that without thy daily care,  
The choicest plants, soon wild and fruitless are;  
And, that as long as thou dost prune and dress,  
The sourest Vine sh●ll bring a sweet ●ncrease.  
Remember, also Lord, how still that Foe,  
W●● fi●st pursued us▪ doth seek to sow  
His ●ares among thy wheat; and to his power,  
B●eak down thy fence, and trample, and devour  
The seeds of grace, as soon as they do sprout;  
And is to● strong, for us to keep him out.  
O●! let not him prevail, such harm to do us,  
As he desires, but, Lord, return unto us.  
Return in mer●y. Though thou find us slack  
To come ourselves, f●tch, draw, and pull us back  
From our own courses, by thy grace divine,  
And set, and keep us, in each way of thine.  
We from our foes have saved been by thee;  
And in thy love, oh Lord! triumphed we.  
But now behold, disgraced thou throw'st us by,  
And we before our adversaries fly.  
A● us our neighbouring Nations laugh and jeer,  
And, us they ●co●ne, whom late we made to fear.  
Oh God a●ise, reject us not for aye;  
No longer hide from us thy face away:  
But, come, oh come with speed to give u●aid,  
And let us not be lost though we have strayed.  
Vouchsafe that every one in his degree,  
The secret errors of his life may see;  
And, in his lawful calling▪ all his days,  
Perform his Christian duty, to thy praise▪  
Give peace this troublous age; for, perilous  
The times are grown, and no man fights for us  
But thou oh God nor do we seek or crave,  
That any other Champion we may have.  
Nay give us troubles, if thy will be ●o,  
That we may have thy strength to bear them too;  
And in affliction thee more glorify,  
Then heretofore in our prosperity.  
For when thy countenance on us did shine,  
Those Lands th●t boasted of their corn and wìne,  
Had not that joy which thou di●st then inspire,  
When we were boiled and fried in blood and fire.  
Oh! give again that joy, although it cost us  
Our lives. Restore thou what our sin hath lost us  
Thy Church, in these Dominions Lord preserve  
In purity: and teach us thee to serve  
●n holiness and righteousness, until  
We shall the number of our days fulfil.  
Defend these Kingdoms from all overthrows,  
●y foreign enemies, or homebred foes.  
Our King with every grace and virtue bless,  
Which may thine honour and his own increase.  
Inflame our Nobles with mo●e love and zeal,  
To thy true Spouse, and to this Common w●ale.  
Inspire our clergy in their several places,  
With knowledge, and all sanctifying graces';  
That by their lives and doctrines they may rear  
Th●se part● of Zion, which decayed are.  
Awake ●his People, give them souls that may  
Believe thy word, and thy commands obey.  
The Plagues deserved already, save them from.  
More watchful make them, in all times to come.  
For blessings past. let hearty thanks be given.  
For present ones, let sacrifice to heaven  
Be daily offered up. For what is needing  
(Or may be useful in the time succeeding)  
Let faithful prayers to thy throne be sent,  
With hearts and ●ands upright and innocent:  
And let all this the better fu●thred be,  
Through these Rem●mbrances, now b●ough● by me.  
For which high favour▪ and emboldening thus  
My spirit, in a time so dangerous;  
For choosing me, that am so despi●able,  
To be employed in this honourable  
And great employment▪ (which I more esteem,  
Then to be crowned with a Diadem)  
For thy enabling me in this Embassage;  
For bringing to conclusion this my Message;  
For sparing of my l●fe, when thousands died,  
Before, behind me, and on every side;  
For saving of me m●ny a time since then,  
When I had forfeited my soul again;  
For all those griefs and poverties, by which  
I am in better things made great, and rich,  
Then all that wealth and honour brings man to,  
Wherewith the wo●ld doth keep so much ado:  
For all which thou to me on earth hast given;  
For all, w●i●h doth concern my hopes of heaven;  
For these, and those innumerable graces,  
Vouchsafed me, at sundry times, and places,  
(Vn●hought upon) unsained praise I render:  
And, for a living sacrifice, I tender  
To thee (oh God) my body, soul, and all,  
Which mine I may, by thy donation, call.  
Accept it blessed Maker, for his sake  
Who did ●his offering acceptable m●ke,  
By giving up himself. Oh! look thou no●  
Upon those blemishes which I have got  
By natural corruption; or by those  
Polluted acts which f●om that ulcer flows.  
According to my skill, I have enroled  
Thy Merci●s; and thy justice I have told.  
I have not h●d thy workings in my breast;  
But a● I could, their power I have expressed.  
Among our great assemblies, to declare  
Thy will and pleasure, lo, I do not f●a●e:  
And though by Princes I am checked and blamed▪  
To sp●ake ●he truth, I am no whit ashamed.  
Oh! ●hew thou, Lord, thy mercy so to me,  
And l●t thy ●ove and Truth, my guardians be.  
Forgive me all the foll●es of my youth;  
My f●ul●y deeds; the errors of my mo●th;  
The wanderings o● my hea●t, and every one  
Of those good works that I have lest undone.  
Forgive me all wherein I did amiss,  
Since thou ●mployd'st me in performing this:  
My d●ublings of thy calling ●e unto it;  
My f●are●, which oft disheartened me to do it;  
My sloth, my negligences, my evasions,  
And my deferring it, on vain occasions,  
When I had vowed that no wo●ke of mine,  
Should take me up, till I had finished thine.  
Lord, pardon this; and let no future sin,  
Nor what already hath committed been,  
Profane this Werke; or cause the same to be  
The less effectual to this land, or me.  
But to myself (oh Lord) and others, let it  
So moving be, that we may ne'er forget it.  
Let nor the evil, nor the good effect  
It takes, or puff me up, or me deject:  
Or make me think that I the better am,  
Because I tell how others a●e to bl●ame:  
But, let it keep me in a Christian fear,  
Still humbly heedful what my actions are.  
Let all those observations I have had,  
Of others errors, be occasions made  
To min● me of mine own. And, lest I err,  
Let every man be my Remembrancer;  
With so much charity, as I have sought  
To b●ing their duties more into their thought.  
And, i● in any sin I linger long▪  
Without repentance; Lord, let every tongue  
That n●m●s me, check me for it: and, to me  
Become, what I to others fain would be.  
Oh! let me not be like those busy brooms,  
Which having cleansed many nasty rooms,  
Do make themselves the fouler: but sweet Father,  
Let me be like the precious Diamond rather,  
Which doth by polishing another stone,  
The better shape and lustre, set upon  
H●s own rou●h body. Let my life be such,  
As that man's aught to be, who knoweth much  
Of thy good pleasure. And, most awful God,  
Let none of tho●e, who spread of me abroad  
unjust reports, the Dev●lls purpose gain,  
By making these my warning prove in vain  
To those that hear them: but let such disgraces,  
Reflect with shame, upon their Author's fac●s,  
Till they repe●t. And let their scandal se●ve  
Within my hea●t true me●k●●sse to preserve;  
And that humility, which else, perchance,  
Vain glory, ot some natural arrogance  
Might overthrew, if I should think upon  
(With carnal thoughts) some good my lines have done  
Restrain, moreover, them who out of pride,  
Or ignorance, this Labour shall deride.  
Make them perceive, who shall prefer a story  
Composed ●or some temporal friend's glory,  
Before those Poems which thy works declare,  
That vain and witless their opinions a●e:  
And if by thee I was appointed, Lord,  
Thy judgements and thy Mercies to record,  
(As here I do) set thou thy mark on those,  
Who shall despitefully the same oppose:  
And let it publicly be seen of all,  
Till of their malice they repent them shall.  
As I my conscience have discharged here,  
Without concealing aught for love, or fear;  
From furious men let me preserved be,  
And from the scorn of ●ooles deliver me▪  
Vouchsafe at length some com●orting refection,  
According to the years of my affliction.  
On me, for good, some to●en please to show,  
That they who see it, may thy bounty know;  
Rejoice, with fellow-feeling of the s●me,  
And join with me, in praising of thy Name.  
And lest (oh Lord!) some weak ones may despise  
My word●, because of ●uch necessities,  
As they h●ve b●ou●ht upon me, by their spite,  
Who ●o my Study h●ve been opposite:  
Oh! give me that which may sufficient be,  
To make them know that I have served thee.  
And that my labours are by thee regarded,  
Although they seem not outwardly rewarded.  
Those Honours, or that Wealth, I do not crave,  
Which they affect, who most endeavoured have  
To please the World. I only ask to gain  
But food and raiment, Lord, for all my pain;  
And that the ●launders, and the poverties,  
Wherewith my patience thou shalt exercise,  
Make not these Lines, or me, become a scorn,  
Nor leave me to the world-ward, quite forlorn.  
Yet, in preferring of this humble Suit,  
I make not my request so absolute,  
As that I will capitulate, or tie  
●o such conditions, thy dread Majesty.  
For, if to honour bu● an earthly Prince  
My Muse had sung▪ it had been impudence  
To prompt his bounty; or, to doubt he might  
Forget to do my honest Labours right.  
Do therefore as thou pleasest: only give  
Thy Servant grace contentedly to live,  
And to be thankful, whatsoever shall  
In thi● my weary Pilgrimage befall.  
Such things thou dost command me to require,  
With earnest, and an absolute desire:  
With which I come: beseeching I may find  
Thy love continue, though none else be kind;  
That blessedness eternal I may get,  
Though all I lose on earth, to compass it;  
And that, at last, when my account is even,  
My payment may be summoned up in heaven.  
Lord, this will p●ease me: call me quickly thither,  
And pay me there my wages all together:  
Not that which mine by merit seems to be;  
But, what by thy mere ●race is due to me.   

The Conclusion.  
SO now (though not so fally as I ●●ght)  
My Vow is paid; and to an end is brought  
T●is work, for which God pleased my life to spare,  
Whe● thousand● round about me slaughtered were.  
N●w, live or dye I care rot: for I see  
But little usefulness, or need of me.  
Because no●e knows what God may call him to;  
I will not say precisely what I'll do:  
But, in ●his kind of musing, to endeavour,  
Or he employed again, I purpose never.  
For, if this profit not, it will be vain  
For me to strike upon this st●in● again▪  
If these do not prevail, I shall suppose,  
Words are not wanting here so much as blows▪  
And that the filthy will be filthy s●ill,  
Till th●y the measure of their sin fulfil:  
Or, that God wil● to f●ee us from pollution,  
Put some ●●●sall Plague in execution.  
Whi●●●o prevent, to him I'll humbly pray,  
And, whilst I live, endeavour what I may  
My Country's welfare; se●king means to find,  
To spen● for her avail, my days behind;  
And labouring so, my Talon to employ,  
That I may come in●o my Master's joy.  
And, though (when all is done which I am able)  
My service will be but unprofitable:  
Yet, still I will be doing, that, wh●n he  
Shall come, I be not idle found to be.  
If any blame what is or shall be done;  
My Conscience knoweth I would injure none;  
And that I do not meddle further, than  
Becometh me that am a private man,  
Though otherwise it seem to those who weigh not  
Wh●n private men may speak, and when th●y may not.  
The building of a Town we do preserre  
Unto the Mason and the Carpenter;  
But, when it is on fire, we care no● who  
Doth come to quench it, so the same he do.  
And, though in settled times, the Statutes awe  
The ruder sort, sometime there's Marshal Law.  
'tis true indeed, that ordinary times,  
And those that are but ordinary crimes,  
May by the Commo● justice be amended,  
And shoul● not be by others reprehended;  
Except it be in terms, respecting all  
States▪ persons, times, and sin in general.  
Yet (as King David says) If overthrown  
Foundations be; what then amiss i● done,  
By honest men, if God to sh●w our fall,  
Shall some, in extraordinary, call?  
We now have those that neither stand in awe  
Of ordinary Magistrate, or Law.  
Nay, Law is made a mockage, and a scorn,  
And, they who have appointed been, and sworn  
To judge us by ●he Laws, deny their power,  
Except, when they may serum them to devour.  
We now have sinners, who are got above  
The reach of men appointed to reprove  
In ordinary course. Yea, sins have we,  
Which brook not, touched, or mentioned to be:  
No not so much as prayed against, through fear  
Of angering those that their well willers ●re.  
And, this ●reat impudence daily grows  
So str●ng that all our freedoms we shall lose,  
And Nature's Laws e'er long will all be broken,  
If none should speak; and therefore I have spoken.  
And ●f for this I may not live as fr●e  
As I was borne (and as I ought to be)  
I hope to dye, do malice what it can,  
An ho●est and a constant Englishman,  
Whose fall shall be no blemish to his Name;  
But, in●am● to those, who caused the same.  
But, s●ffer this (will Politicians dream)  
An●, such a precedent will hearten them  
To libellize, who wanting grace, and re●son,  
Divulge their sharp-fanged Poems out of season:  
And they who Write for nothing but to show  
Their spleens, or that the world may come to know  
Their Faculty, men's persons m●y abuse,  
And brave it thus, their boldness to excuse.  
But, wh●t is this to me? (If others will  
Because I have done well, be doing ill)  
Let them and those, whom thereby they offend,  
About that matter, by themselves contend.  
'tis fit for so●er men their swo●ds to wear,  
Although by drunkard th●y abused are.  
Which freedom ay▪ have claimed, and used you see;  
And from the claim will never bea●en be.  
In every Work▪ some passage will discover  
To knowing men, what was the chiefest mover:  
Which ●hey who have the Spirit of discerning,  
Should mark; for, 'tis a mat worth the learning.  
And, when they find an Author should be shent,  
Let him receive his worthy chastisement.  
But, when his pains deserveth a rew●rd,  
Afflict him not, though him you nought regard.  
A Libeler is impudently bold,  
When he hath Times, or Patrons to uphold  
His biting Strains; and soon is he descried;  
For ●e, to strike all faults, is terrified:  
And fears what perils may his act attend,  
If none ●e knows save God to be his Friend.  
But, they who have my mind, will be so far  
From fear to write, although you do not spare  
To punish me, that they will write the more;  
Make up the sum that ●anteth on my score;  
And, reprehensions forth so loud will thunder,  
That at your folly's time● to come will wonder.  
For, outward hopes, have not my tongue unloo●'d,  
Nor can my mouth by outward fears be closed.  
What I have done is done: and I am ●as●d,  
And ●lad, how ever others will be pleased.  
Let t●em who shall peruse it, praise, or lau●h,  
Revile or s●●ffe, or threat, or swear, or chase,  
All's one to me; So I within be still,  
Without me, let men keep what noise they will,  
For, sure I am, though th●y my flesh confound,  
The soul, I seek to save, shall still be sound▪  
And this I know, that nor the br●t●sh rages  
Of ●his ●ow present, or succeeding Ages,  
Shall root this Poem out; but, that to all  
Ensuing times, the same continue shall,  
To be perused in this Land, as long  
As here they sh●ll retain the English tongue:  
Or, while there shall be Errors, and offences,  
Disorders, Discords, Plagues, or Pestilences.  
And, if our evils we departed not from,  
Before the d●y of our destruction come,  
This Book shall to the times that follow show,  
What sin● they were which caused our overthrow:  
And testify to others (for their learning)  
That Vengeance did not seize us without warning.  
If they who know the state of this our Land,  
Can justly say that her Affairs do stand  
In such a posture as was ordinary;  
Or, th●t these Times the face d●e seem to carry  
Which t●ey have had: or, if th●y see not here,  
More wants, more doubts, and terrors, than therewere:  
Or, if ●his Message (whatsoever succeedeth)  
Be more (or more insisted on) t●en needeth:  
Or, if it giveth any just suspicion  
That thence may spring occasions of sedition;  
Nay if th●t ●ll my Readers may not g●ther  
Good motives thence, to 〈◊〉 ●edition, rather▪  
And such like me●nes of rectifying that  
Which is, or may be harmful to the State:  
Let me be strictly questioned, an● blamed,  
And conferred too; as one ●hat hath defamed  
Or injured his Country. Or, if they  
Who sh●ll peruse this Book, can truly say,  
That I have caused this REMEMBRANCER  
To speak l●ke every v●lgar Messenger;  
If any circumstance ca● prove, I bend  
My purposes to wo●ke my private end;  
Or, that I persons scandalise, o● fl●tter;  
Or that I in the manner, or the matter,  
Resemble s●ch a Pamphleter, as fears  
The losing of his lib●rties, or ears:  
O●, that I speak● like them who railing come,  
They neither ●●re at what, nor yet at whom,  
So they may rail; Or, if I have not showed  
My Messages from such a Spirit flowed,  
As is well known unto him, and whereby  
He can def●nd them, with good warrantly:  
If these, or aught like th●se things may be said,  
(To prove the part of an Impostor played)  
Let him who thinks he can unmask me, strive  
To do it, and as he shall do, believe.  
But if they find (which doubtless they shall find)  
Who view this Poem with a single mind)  
That I have here delivered things exceeding  
My me●ne▪ of knowledge, or my he●ps of breeding,  
So far, as that my Readers cannot choose  
B●t know some power divine d●d them infuse:  
If they shall find, by my confessions h●re,  
That I am subject to the self same fear  
Which others feel; and yet have dare● more  
In some respects, than others heretofore:  
If they perceive, that I did oft desire  
Through frailty, from this action to retire;  
A●d, that I had a supernatural W●ll,  
My natural Desi●es resisting st●ll,  
An● forcing me, even in my own despite,  
That ●atter of this Volume to indite:  
If they perceive, as well perceive they may,  
That I had ma●y lets within my way,  
So cumbersome, as made the ●ork appear  
Scarce possible▪ to him that w●lling were;  
And, how God made such hindrances become  
More helpful at the last, then troublesome.  
If they observe, how wh●n my fortunes all  
At hazard lay (and were to stand or fall  
According to their wills, who may, with me,  
For this, if God forbid not a●●●y be)  
That I, though many did the same condemn,  
Did (this to finish) quite give ever them,  
Which then I might have settled; had I thought  
God's kingdom ought not first to have been sought.  
If they did know how we●l I know the rage,  
The sottishness, and malice of this age;  
How little conscience some do make to kill,  
Oppress, or ruinate, to get their will;  
Or what small means, or hope of friends I have,  
My body from their violence to save:  
If these, and such like things as these were heeded,  
All these preventions should not now have needed:  
For, they would see, this had not been effected,  
Unless God's hand had strengthened and directed▪  
And they who else my person may contemn,  
Would fear, that they in me would injure him.  
I know, some please to say, that thus I vent  
Bold words; because I seek imprisonment:  
As if to me thereby there might arise  
A profit, by concealed G●atuities.  
Thus many Schismatics indeed have done,  
And honest men and women preyed upon,  
To charity's abuse: But, God doth know  
That yet, with me it never hath been so:  
But that my heart both scorns and h●tes to be  
So false and base, as these d●e ●ensure me.  
I do, and will confess unto the praise  
Of him, who unto me my friends did raise,  
That when I did, in thrall oppressed grow,  
With wants, which none but G●d and I did know;  
And was mewed up so close, that to no friend,  
I might a Prayer, or Petition send,  
But unto God: he moved the hearts of some  
To se●d me secure: And, I vow, to whom,  
Except to him, I should my thanks repay,  
(For much thereof) I know not to thi● day.  
It was enough to show me, that God will  
In all extremes, provide things needful s●ill.  
And decently, and well did it suffice  
In my restraint, for all necessity's.  
But, what soe'er some think, I brought not forth  
Into the world with we, one farthing worth  
Above my charge: but, there just even made  
Of all which from God's bounteous hand I had.  
For, what was more than served to set me free,  
I gave to others, as he gave to me.  
Which, not in boast, I mention; but, I speak  
The truth, that this the more effect may take.  
A foolish policy in me it were  
(For such a base uncertain●y as here  
Objected is) to venture as I do  
The ●●sse of th●t which I had reached unto  
F●re now: had this been left, to settle that  
Which doth concern my ●emp●rall estate.  
The King hath shown me favour: at this hour,  
I do not know that ●an, of Name, or power  
Whose person I envy, or disaffect,  
Or whom of any malice I suspe●t  
To me o● mine: with me they all are friends,  
That w●re at odds; and to attain my ends  
In my ●ff●ires, I never had a day  
So probable as now, if I would stay  
This Message: and perchance, this bring me shall  
In all my outward ho●es unto a fall;  
Yet, this shall first be told, that you may see,  
My Hopes are greater, than my Fears can be;  
And that it may be known, I d●e disclaim  
Those ends, at which most think I basely aim.  
These Arguments, as such like words as may  
Anticipate, I here, beforehand, say;  
Not that I think it possible, by them  
To change their minds that will this Book contemn,  
For, 'tis not in the power of Argument,  
Or words, to make the wilful provident.  
It lieth not in honest protestations  
To overthrow malicious combinations;  
No nor in Miracles, till God shall please  
(Who of all hearts doth keep the locks and keys,  
To shut and open them▪) For they that heard  
And lived to see fulfilled, what was declared  
By jeremy against jerusalem;  
His counsel they did nevertheless contemn,  
When he their slight to Egypt did oppose;  
And so became of their own overthrows  
The wilful cause. Nay, when our Saviour spoke  
To judas, and that Band which came to take  
His person; to the ground those men he struck  
Even with his voice: and, on the Cross, he shook  
The Earth, and rend the Temple with his cry;  
Yet, that and all the rest was passed by  
Of most beholders, a if they had been  
Unsensible of what was heard and seen.  
I therefore, these Preventions do insert,  
To aggravate the hardness of their heart  
Who shall be obstinate. And here declare  
What may be said or done, e'er done they are;  
That all may know, when such things come to pass  
Nought falls on me, but what expected was;  
And that the better working this may have  
On those who shall God's Messages receive  
●y this Remembrancer. For, God hath sent,  
Though I (unworthy) am his instrument.  
Him, unadvisedly composed I not,  
Nor was he by a miracle begot.  
To fit him for this purpose; I have thrice  
Imprisonment endured: Close-prison twice.  
Much trouble I have past which thence ensued;  
Through wants and slanders not a few I s●ru'd;  
And, being guarded by God's Providence,  
I lately walked through the Pestilence,  
And saw, and felt, what Nature doth abhor,  
To harden me, and to prepare me for  
This Worke. And therefore he, who thinks he shall  
Wit● his big looks or speeches me appall,  
Must look more grim than Death; more ugly, far,  
Then Vizards, or the shapes of Devils are;  
Breathe ranker poison than a plague filled grave;  
And stamp, and roar, and tear, and stare, and rave,  
More dreadfully, and louder than a man  
Infected with six Pestilences can:  
Else; I (to play with terrors being borne)  
Shall laugh both him and all he doth, to scorn.  
And, though I may, perchance (as did the best  
Of all ●ods children when they were oppressed)  
Sometime bewail my sufferings, or declare  
That I do feel them when their weight I bear;  
Yet murmur will I not, at what is laid  
Upon me, neither seek to flesh for aid.  
By what's here done, may trouble come upon me;  
But, not performing it, had quite undone me:  
Since, I through fear of what the world may do,  
Neglected had, what God had called me to.  
For, of his calling me, the, means and ways  
Whereby my weakness he to this did raise,  
Unquestionable evidence do give.  
And, they who do not, yet, the same believe,  
Will think the same, perhaps, when they shall see  
Themselves enclosed with new Plagues to be.  
Thus I believing, a●d considering,  
What fearlessness this act therewith doth bring,  
(With what assurances, I do possess)  
Methinks it were a matchless wickedness  
To disobey. Yea sure, I more in that  
Wronged God, than I shall seem to wrong the State▪  
In uttering what some few are loath to hear.  
How ever diverse think; this is my fear.  
Yea, to my soul, so horrible a thing  
The wilful disobeying that great King  
Appeared hath; that, n●ver should I sleep  
In peace again, if I did silence keep.  
And therefore, neither all the royal graces  
Of Kings; nor gifts, nor honourable places,  
Should stop my mouth. Nor would I smother this,  
Though twenty Kings had sworn that I should kis●e  
The Gallows for it: lest my Conscience should  
Torment me more, than all men living could.  
Yea, though this mind were but my ignorance,  
Or fancy (as it will be thought, perchance)  
Yet, since this Fancy may present to me  
As hideous fears, as things that real be,  
I'll hazard rather twenty deaths to dye,  
Then to be tortured by my Fantasy.  
For, I had rather in a dungeon dwell  
Five years; then in my soul to seel a hell  
Five minutes: and, so God will be my friend,  
I shall not care how many I offend.  
And, yet, (now I remember) troubled is  
My heart a little, for one thing amiss  
Which I have done. This M●ssenger hath been  
Long time kept out; and I did thrust him in  
Without a Licence; lest he coming late,  
Might show you a Commission out of date.  
I could excuse the fact, and lay the crime  
Upon the much disorder of the time:  
For, most men know, that in a Watch or Clock●  
When it is out of order once or broke,  
The wheels that are unfaul●●e move awry  
As well as they in whom the faults do lie.  
But, that you may not think I do profess  
Against the State, as wholly merciless,  
Or that I think it nothing to misdo  
Against good Order, though compelled thereto;  
For this I ask forgiveness; and submit  
Myself to them, who shall in judgement sit  
Upon the fact. For which if I obtain  
My Pardon, I shall humbly entertain  
Their favours with my thankefullest respects,  
And, hope this Message will have good effects.  
If otherwise I find; my Body shall  
Be ready to subject itself to all  
Their strictest Penalties: and when I am  
Enough afflicted for what is to blame  
In this, or me: I know, God will release  
By Body, or my Soul, again in peace.  
To him alone, for Patronage, I run:  
Lord, let thy pleasure, and thy will be done.  
The glory be to God.    

THe faults escaped in the printing, we had not such means to prevent as we desired; nor could we conveniently collect them, by reason of our haste, of hazard, and other interruptions: we therefore leave them to be amended, censured, and winked at, according to the Readers courtesy or discretion.