THE LOFTY BISHOP, THE LAZY Brownist, AND THE loyal author.  

1. The Bishop Sings.  

What would ye lazy Brownists have,  
you rage and run away;  
And cry us down, our Church, and eke,  
the form therein we pray.   

Oh monsters great! Abortive sons,  
your Mother to forsake;  
To Church you do refrain to come,  
your prayers there to make.   

You will admit no government,  
in Church at all to stand,  
Without the which, would soon be seen,  
strange errors in the land.   

You do assume yourselves to be  
more holy than all people,  
Therefore 'mongst all, you will not come,  
to pray in Church or steeple.   

You'll speak us fair and soberly,  
you will protest in speech,  
With eyes, and hands eke lifted up:  
yet will us overreach.   

You do presume, you have no sin;  
and that you have the spirit,  
And though you x and deceive,  
you heaven shall inherit.   

Oh, fie upon your idle life!  
how dare you zeal pretend,  
To loiter here, and there all day  
a prating life to spend.   

What separatist in your Rout  
makes conscience of all sins,  
And in his calling pains doth take,  
so soon as day begins.    

2. The Brownists Sings.  

YOur lofty lordship terms us lazy  
and runagadoes too,  
But I could wish you Bishops would  
but labour as we do.   

Sure ye be monsters, for such members  
of Christ his Church as ye,  
I have not read of in God's word  
allowed by him to be.   

Then you must rather be out of Christ,  
and in his Church impostors,  
For Christ allows you Lordships none;  
if you will be his Pastors.   

You did presume, you were cock sure,  
and in your glory firm,  
Christ's little flock to tyrannize  
with countenance full stern.   

The Apostles of our Saviour Christ,  
you plead you do succeed;  
And yet would starve those souls, which they  
did labour for to feed.   

Though with your mouth, you Rome deny;  
yet still her ways you take,  
A strumpet you confess she is,  
yet do her not forsake.   

How dare you, who appointed are  
to Preach God's holy word;  
Sit in pomp and presume to bear  
in hand the temporal sword.   

Is any Pastor made a Lord,  
but soone's from preaching taken;  
Yea though he laboured much before,  
this makes all be forsaken.    

3. The Author laments.  

HEre's lazy Brownists, lofty Bishops,  
and both accuse each other,  
As runagadoes, Monsters eke;  
unto the Church their mother.   

And yet were both bread up by her,  
and yet Church Monsters too;  
The one doth quite forsake the Church,  
the other would her undo.   

But now the Parliament no doubt,  
these Monsters will destroy;  
Or else will set them such a form,  
whereby the Church may joy.   

The one in pride, the other in  
conceited purity;  
Doth trouble both the Church and State,  
such Monsters for to see.   

Whilst one dissembles, th'other doth  
Affirm vain things for truth,  
Whilst one in pomp, his time doth wast  
the other it spends in sloth.   

Whilst both do wander from the way  
wherein the Church of God  
Directed is by him to walk,  
both other paths have trod.   

The Brownists noses, want a Ring  
(to draw them with a Rope;)  
The Prelates wings do cutting need,  
(lest they fly to the Pope.)   

That so the one in Church may Preach  
God's word, the other hear;  
That both may honour God, and eke  
his laws may love, and fear.     

Printed Ann Dom. 1640.