The Lamentation,  
COme all ye tender Mortals that have Ears,  
And to my mournful Story lend your Tears.  
Not children's Tears, nor such as Women shed,  
Losing the dear Associates of their Bed;  
But deeply cut with an afflicting Sense,  
Let your sad hearts their purple Streams dispense.  
Hang down your wondering heads, and blushing show  
Your deep amazement by your sinking Brow.  
With Silence, Horror, and Attention wait,  
Whilst my sad Muse doth the dire Tale relate.  
My Tongue-tied Muse, which ne'er before could speak,  
Yet now must open, or my Heart will break.  
But oh! I Tremble, and I dare not Name  
The dismal Cause of my Poetic Flame.  
Fain I would speak, and ease me, of my Pain,  
But my great Horror strikes me dumb again.  
What Iron Tongue can with due Temper speak,  
Or Marble Heart declare, unless it break?  
That JAMES the Mighty, Once-loved JAMES is gone  
In silent Night, all Guardless, and Alone,  
Withdrew from His great Kingdoms, and His Throne!  
JAMES the late sovereign of His Subjects Hearts,  
Now Unlamented from His Throne departs!  
JAMES the Great Source and Origin of Laws,  
When He Himself from their Defence withdraws,  
Subjects Himself unto the Rabbles Jaws!  
Whose lawless Fury, and outrageous Power,  
(Which God forbid) would MAJESTY devour.  
Malicious Scribblers too with barbarous Pen,  
Are crueler than Lions in a Den!  
Oh that there is such Impudence in Men!  
Who lately did before Him Trembling stand,  
And flew to finish but His least Command.  
With awful Reverence and Terror struck,  
They would have paid Obedience to His Look:  
Wholly regardless of that Sacred Name,  
Desert the Head from whence their Honours came.  
Who brooded safe under His powerful Wing,  
Now barbarously use the Name of KING;  
And not alone deny their helping Sword,  
But utterly refuse Him their good Word.  
Nobles and Commons, Subjects and Soldiers too,  
At once consent their MONARCH to undo;  
And 'tis their Duty, Conscience tells them so.  
Oh Monarch! Oh unhappy Monarch! why  
Should all at once abandon Loyalty,  
Under the great Defence of Honesty?  
Who always have been Faithful to the Crown,  
And with their Blood and Fortunes served the Throne,  
That Service must in Faithfulness disown.  
Long, ROYAL SIR, have the damned Snares been laid,  
Wherein Your MAJESTY is thus betrayed.  
Hell and ROME's Emissaries did Combine  
The English Monarchy to Undermine.  
ROME could not bear to have that Jewel lost,  
Which to her thirsty Coffers brought in most.  
And since our Land forsook the Romish Yoke,  
And wisely from her Cursed Fetters broke.  
Rome, to recover her delightful Gain,  
Many a Plot did secretly maintain,  
To bring this Nation to her Foot again:  
But frustrated in every such Design,  
By an overruling Providence Divine,  
Your MAJESTY exalted to the Throne,  
Secure she stood in so endeared a Son,  
So firmly bound to her Religion.  
Who (when a Subject) to her firmly stood,  
Despised his Right, though of Successive Blood,  
And publicly avowed the Holy Cause,  
Against the highest Interest, and known Laws.  
What could she doubt of such a zealous Son,  
When safely guarded with His Sacred Crown,  
And urged too with the Queen's eternal Moan!  
Whom Nature had obliged to th' Holy See,  
(Sure she Espoused it to Extremity!)  
Now then with restless, and redoubled Rage,  
She all her Engines doth to work engage  
The apostatised Nation to reduce  
Unto the Universal Mother's Use.  
But I forbear to search the Wound too deep,  
And (as a Subject) will my Distance keep:)  
Nor mention what it was she did intend,  
When to her Arts she did our Monarch bend.  
But humbly, and with bleeding heart implore,  
His MAJESTY would take her Part no more:  
But (having bought at most expensive Rates  
This dearest Eyesalve) would perceive her Cheats:  
Wisely reflecting into what a state  
Her Treacheries have brought the JUST and GREAT:  
And under the specious Name Religion,  
The happiest MONARCH of the Earth undone.  
Religion, said I! Ay, a cursed One 'tis,  
Which perpetrates the worst of Villainies,  
Under the meritorious hopes of Bliss.  
See then, O Royal sovereign, see  
Into that bloody Harlot's Treachery,  
And resolutely break her slavish Yoke:  
Say but that healing word, and when 'tis spoke,  
Let the lost Whore perceive she is forsaken.  
Tell all Your bleeding Nation, tell the World,  
How by ROME's cursed Arts You thus were hurled  
Into the fatal Pit, and freely own  
The several Facts she would have had You done.  
Nothing o'ercomes like Free Confession.  
Shall I Your Lord and sovereign fall  
Into my meanest Subjects basest Thrall,  
And (like a little Criminal) tell all?  
Yes, MONARCH, that You shall (pardon dread Lord)  
The over-freedom of that hasty word.  
But 'tis indeed the only Cure is found,  
For the sure healing of the desperate Wound.  
'Tis better far ingeniously to own  
An Error done, than that it should be known  
By other means, Who truly doth Repent,  
Is in the next Degree to Innocent.  
Say then, Dear sovereign, most sincerely say  
you've thrown that cursed Interest quite away,  
Wholly dislodged it from Your Sacred Breast,  
Will never deal again with ROMISH Priest,  
Only to drive them from their Hellish Nest.  
This done, You shall be more than e'er adored,  
To all Your Glories happily Restored.  
Take it (for once) on a mean Subject's word.  
So shall Your Majesty secure Your Soul,  
And all Your great Impending Storms Control.  
So shall the Most Illustrious PRINCE Your Son  
With Joyful heart his dearest Father own,  
Think he's well paid for all he's undergon.  
So shall Your Nobles with all Joy protest,  
They're infinitely in such a Convert blest;  
So all Your Clergy will Devoutly Pray,  
All former Errors may be done away,  
And ROME our great Expenses shall defray.  
So all the Commons will Allegiance swear,  
And thankfully all Damages Repair:  
So all the People shall Heart-Offerings bring,  
And loudly Shout and Cry  
God Save the King  
FINIS.