A Hymn TO THE ARK IN NEWGATE,  
An Tali Studeam CALAMO?  Persius — Quantum nummorum servat in ARCA, Tantum Habet & FIDEI. Lillys Grammar. 

OF a sullen Dumb Devil I mean to relate,  
That with Brazenhead was lately heard prate,  
Against the late Law (the best walls of the State.)  
Pray remember the Ark.   

Now because this Ark is a pretty fine thing,  
A Labyrinth lacking a directory string  
Called a clue, Melpomene shall you in bring,  
To this most notable Ark.   

For since the Parson with such story plays,  
And cousin's the Sisters with those holy Lays,  
The sacred nine sisters in zeal we must raise,  
Pray, etc.   

Beloved 'tis thus, i'th' Latin tongue (whence  
The Hebrew's made out with pregnant sit sense,  
And saves Smec's scholars book learned expense,)  
Pray, etc.   

It holds forth and implies a spacious chest,  
Or hugy Coffer, which you like best:  
This Explication; the uses now rest.  
Pray, etc.   

In this a bright Idol was lately enshrined,  
But alas this troubles the vexed Levites mind,  
It hath chose other Altars, He never divined.  
Pray, etc.   

The growing despair of increasing his Sums,  
(Twenty pieces a time for comforting Crumbs,)  
And no gift beyond the conveyance of Thumbs.  
Pray, etc.   

Made the Mammonist think to revenge on the times,  
His late disappointment with recenter crimes,  
Complexioned to the American climbs.  
Pray, etc.   

When Old Jsaac and Pym were Elders and Saints,  
And the public Faith without the constraints  
Of reason was swallowed, nor was troubled with Faints.  
Pray, etc.   

When Antiquity yielded its sacreder Gold,  
And Vessels of Silver to the godly Household,  
And consecreate bags to the same use were told.  
Pray, etc.   

When instead of abundance of milk and of Honey,  
It showered down the White and eke yellow Money,  
When Guildball was Canaan, and Calamy Bonny.  
Pray, etc.   

Then the Ark was safe; for Bell and the Dragon,  
Treason and piety jointly did wag on,  
And stood together like Baal and Dagon.  
Pray, etc.   

No Common Hall, but his preachment or speech,  
With a tedious three Hours measure of each,  
That did the groans of three Kingdoms outreach.  
Pray, etc.   

A Thousand rich Caudles he gulged to the Cause,  
Molten gold would scarce have injured his Jaws,  
And this made him Kick and Wince against Laws.  
Pray, etc.   

But he hath the luck still, whoever fares worse,  
His disobedience crams his full purse,  
Like the Fox he is sure to thrive by the curse.  
Pray, etc.   

Never was Evil so rewarded as this,  
He was hired and paid for doing amiss,  
And then his Imprisonment most profit is.  
Pray, etc.   

And this a acquaint party-Poet per pale,  
To the wretched disgrace of Iter Boreale,  
In chequered sense and a strange Medlie Tale.  
Descants upon the Ark.   

The Gout and a Bishop by Wild simile,  
Are here coupled together (both Tyrant like be)  
By head, and by ears, as by foot, and by knee.  
Pray, etc.   

Wildfire and sober Combustion's in's Pate,  
Here Squib, there misehievous Mortar shell Fate,  
Jeers at a Rabbi and damns the whole State.  
Pray, etc.   

So that this same Ark is Pandora's cursed Box,  
Filled with Gout and with Itch and Scotch Plague & Pox  
To be cured by none but Bedlams rare Locks.  
Pray remember the Ark.    

London, Printed in the Year, 1663.