A Christian ADMONITION OR Friendly Exhortation, sent to WILLIAM LAWD, lace Archbishop of Canterbury, now Prisoner in the Tower.  
Dedicated to all those that seek for the peace of Zion, by the conversion of her Enemies. By, T. B.  
When thou thine Enemy dost see,  
In great distress and misery,  
Pray for his State, and counsel give,  
That so his soul in peace may live.  13. Luke, 34. 
As fragrant sweet parfumes the heart rejoice,  
So doth good counsel from a friendly voice.  27. Proverb. 9 
Read AND CONSIDAR  
Printed in the year of Grace, M.DC.XLI.   

A Christian Admonition, or friendly Exhortation to William Lawd, late Archbishop of Canterbury.  
My Lord:  
MY Idle Muse that long hath been at ease,  
Not daring to launch forth into the seas  
Of these distempered times, doth now at last  
Her former sluggishness quite from her cast,  
And with earnest desires which are not weak,  
Wisheth she might one word unto you speak:  
But not to jeer your Lordship; No not I,  
It is a thing I always did defy;  
But in plain honest terms, let me begin,  
A soule-convincing song to you to sing.  
What was the cause! O thou that sat so high,  
To steer the stern of our prosperity:  
That thou so plainly to the world didst show,  
Thou soughtest to guide us to our overthrow?  
What was the reason! may I be so bold  
To ask the question, was it store of Gold  
Thou didst aim at, for to gratify,  
Thy vast desires, and to satisfy  
Thy covetous and carnal appetite,  
And by that means to raise thee up delight?  
Then hadst thou thy desires, gold good store  
Came in unto thee, daily more and more;  
Thousands, yea many thousands was the rate,  
Which came in yearly thee to satiate;  
Thy lands and livings which are large and great,  
Thy Courts, wherein was thy judical seat,  
Thy fees, thy fines, thy Incomes every way,  
Still brought thee store of gold both night & day,  
Yet was all this too little, that thou must  
Seek still for more, by ways which were unjust?  
Must thou take bribes? Nay, which me thinks is more?  
Sell justice to augment thy boundless store,  
Yea sell judicial places too, which were  
Misused by them, that bought them for to rear  
Their sums of money up again and so,  
Injustice from thy Courts did daily flow?  
Or was it honour, that thou soughtest to gain?  
Did that vain shadow float upon thy brain?  
Did thy desires strive to pluck that flower,  
Which wither will, thou seest in half an hour?  
Why then thou hadst it in a large degree,  
No man in all the land exceeded thee.  
Thy place and person both adorned were:  
With titles which did store of honours bear?  
Thou was't Archbishop of old Canterbury;  
Which title for to grace it, grace did carry;  
Primate and Metropolitan of all  
Those large Confines, which we do England call,  
Oxford's chief Chancellor thou wast also,  
And ruldest that place, from whence great Arts do flow?  
Yet all this was too little to content,  
Thy large desires, which were daily bent,  
To be some body greater than all this,  
Some say thou hopest that men thy toe shall kiss:  
For thus they say, but 'tis a lie I hope,  
Thou look'st to be a Cardinal or Pope:  
And yet 'tis evident thou fain wouldst be  
Something above the pitch of thy degree:  
Or else thou wouldst not have us guided all  
By laws which only did thee maker call.  
Was it a small thing in thine eyes to be  
Raised to a place of so much dignity:  
From such a mean and low degree as thou,  
Made Lord of them, and they to thee must bow,  
Which did deserve the place better than thee,  
Except that thou might'st use such tyranny  
Over thy brethren, as to make them yield  
To what thou pleasedst, or to fly the field:  
Or else both souls and bodies bear the thrall,  
Which from thy stern austerity did fall?  
What was the cause, i pray thee let us know,  
(And now at last in plain terms to us show:)  
Thou soughtest for to lead us in a way,  
Which God hath not commanded to obey?  
What didst thou make thyself? a God on Earth?  
Hast thou forgot the place of thy mean birth,  
That thou so proudly shouldst upon thee take,  
New duties, and new Doctrines for to make:  
And by thy strict command enforce us all,  
Thy ways, the ways of God and truth to call?  
And to that end didst many men exalt,  
Which twixt thy ways, & Gods did always halt,  
And gav'st them store of worldly wealth and places,  
Still favouring them in their base sinful cases:  
That so they might preach thee not Christ to men,  
Nay many thou exaltst, which with their pen;  
And in their preaching too, did much disgrace  
The name of Christ, and sought for to deface  
That glorious name, by which we saved are;  
And all to make thy ways and ends seem fair:  
And if a zealous Pastor did desire,  
To do that which his calling did require:  
Which was to tell the people of their sin,  
And show them the true way for to walk in  
Then presently, he must suspended be,  
And quite deposed of his ministry;  
Though ne'er so ancient, learned, grave, and wise:  
Yet all this seemed nothing in your eyes?  
Though wife and children should a-begging go,  
You did not care, you did not feel their woe,  
And some base Fellow than his place must take,  
Which never any Conscience yet did make  
Of what he taught, or how he lived, only  
To please your grace, he always had an eye,  
And would at your command, both cringe & bow  
And sing a mass, if you would it allow:  
They were the men you did so much esteem;  
And those that liked them, you did Christians deem:  
But could your Lordship any way believe  
That Christians true could any credit give,  
To such base, idle, superstitious sots,  
That best could preach over their tavern pots?  
No! though your grace thought ignorance to be  
The Mother of devotion, yet did we  
Justly believe, that 'twas the only way,  
Both souls and bodies utterly to slay,  
But now me thinks, I hear your grace reply  
(Willing to clear yourself) and to deny  
What here you are accused off, and say,  
You did not seek to walk this crooked way,  
But all you did, was for to please the King,  
That you his profit and content might bring:  
You sought the peace and welfare of the Land,  
And sought to give content upon each hand?  
But pray my Lord, do not yourself deceive:  
'Tis now high time this lying plea to leave.  
What? would you make us still believe, that we  
Cannot the truth from so much falsehood see?  
What! did you rule the King, or he rule you?  
Surely I think the former to be true;  
For he good man put all his trust in you,  
And what you did, he thought must needs be true:  
Impossible it was, he thought, that he,  
That raised was unto that high degree,  
By his mere favour, should so basely deal  
From him and his God's truth for to conceal:  
But yet suppose, the King command should give  
To do that, which m●ght his true subjects grieve;  
Yet it had been your duty to have shown  
His majesty the truth, and have made known  
His duty to his God, and to his Land,  
And so have caused him to understand  
The inconveniences that would arise,  
From such things, which God's people did despise.  
But now, i hope your wisdom will suppose,  
Your vices only I seek to disclose;  
And by that means, seek for to amplify,  
And to increase your former misery;  
But i'll assure you, that was not the end;  
For which this short epistle now was penned;  
But my aim was, if possible I might,  
Let in your Conscience so much godly light,  
Which now at last, might cause you to begin  
With true remorse to look upon your sin.  
O! that I now such rhetoric could use:  
Or that my lines such virtue could infuse  
Into your heart, as now might cause you make  
A narrow search, and a strict notice take  
Of that soul, black, misshapen ugly sin:  
Which you these many years have lived in!  
Alas! you know, that Jesus Christ came down,  
To level Ceremonies with the ground:  
They did him and his Office typify,  
And he once come, they all must straightway die;  
And yet, you needs must set them up again,  
And none must from their exercise refrain:  
Christ did all Altars utterly deface,  
That in his Church they never might have place:  
He made their stone like chalk-stones of the field  
Which▪ little profit do to any yield,  
And yet you needs must them again erect,  
And they forsooth must needs be trimly decked  
With superstitious Romish relics base;  
Which do all Christianity deface.  
What did you think that Christ must come again,  
And here submit himself for to be slain;  
To clear the world of those enormities,  
Which Antichrist doth on the earth devise?  
No certainly, he shorter work will make,  
And ere long, to a strict ●ccount him take:  
Therefore i would entreat you now at last,  
All self-conceitedness from you to cast;  
And look upon yourself, just as you are:  
Let not yourself, yourself, in pity spare;  
And see what folly, yea what madness made,  
You in that black and muddy waters wade?  
Yea now the days you have to live are few,  
If Justice spare, yet Nature claims her due,  
An will ere long in you be satisfied,  
It is a debt which cannot be denied:  
Therefore in time, while it is called to day,  
The voice of Christian counsel now obey,  
And look for mercy; fos it may be found,  
God still will hear your true repenting sound.  
Look upon him, whom you have crucified,  
Look upon him, whom you have so denied;  
Look upon him, whose truth ye sought to hide,  
He never mercy any man denied?  
He died for them, which did his death conspire,  
He died for them, which did his death desire:  
And therefore died for you, and I, and all,  
That can for mercy from his sinnings call:  
O! therefore let not grace resisted be  
By black despair, that mortal enemy,  
Of every sinner, whose chief strength doth lie  
In ignorance of Christ's sufficiency:  
Whose precious blood doth in it power bear  
The greatest sinners soul from sin to clear.  
Which that it may do yours, my prayer shall be  
To God alone which doth all secrets see:  
That he would all your heinous sins pass over,  
And with Christ's blood all your offences cover;  
That so your soul being free from Satan's bands,  
He may receive it in his heavenly hands.  
FINIS.