THE Lord Staffords GHOST: OR, A Warning to TRAITORS, WITH His Prophecy Concerning the Blazing-Star.  
Printed in the Year, 1680.   

THE LORD Staffords Ghost, etc.  
FRom Stygian shades, lo, my pale Ghost doth rise,  
To visit Earth, and these subluhar Skies;  
For some few moments I'm in Mercy sent,  
To bid my Fellow- Traitors to Repent:  
Repent before you taste of Horrid Fate,  
Your Gild confess, before it be too late.  
I am not here arrived on Earth, to tell  
The hidden secrets that belong to Hell:  
Not am I sent to publish for declare,  
Who are torments, whom tormented there.  
For now I know that it is Heaven's decree,  
These things to Mortals still shall secrets be;  
Who have fantastic Dreams, and nothing know,  
Of what is done above, or yet below:  
But I have seen with my immortal Eyes,  
Things that with horror do my Soul surprise;  
Too late alas, too late, I see my sin,  
With strange Chimaeras I've deluded been,  
By a cursed brood, who sounded in my ear,  
Dye obstinate, no Chains of Conscience fear,  
Upon us firmly let your Faith be built,  
We can and do Absolve you from your Gild;  
And after this, you need no more Repent,  
For you a Martyr die, and Innocent,  
O cursed Men, who on Wretches thus intrude,  
And thus poor souls, Eternally delude.  
Whilst they believe what these deluders say,  
Life is snatched from them, and they drop away;  
And falling down, by Charon Death they're hurled  
Into the Mansions of a dismal World,  
Where Conscience stands, and stairs them in the face,  
Showing a Table of Eternal Brass,  
In which in noted Characters are wrote  
Their whole life's crimes, which living they forgot,  
With Conscience these have an Eternal strife,  
And curse the vain delusive dreams of Life:  
With torment now their crimes read o'er and o'er,  
And waking, see they did but Dream before;  
Too late (and than too late what plague is worse?  
They see their folly, and themselves they curse;  
They curse themselves, because they did believe,  
And doubly curse those who did them deceive.  
When to the fatal Scaffold I was brought,  
I said and did what I was bid, and laughed,  
Tho' Conscience said, I did not what I ought.  
Stoutly the Gild; as I was bid, denied,  
And for the Cause, I Rome's great Martyr died  
I that Religion then esteemed good,  
And gladly would have sealed it with my Blood,  
Because I then no better understood.  
Let not the World to vain delusions fly,  
I ●id for Treason, not Religion die.  
Tho' on the Scaffold I would not confess,  
My Ghost, alas! too late, can do no less.  
Let all Complotters warning take by me,  
The World we may delude, but God doth see;  
Tho' what we did should never come to light,  
It can't be hid from the Almighty's sight:  
Give God the Glory, and confess your Crime,  
Confess your horrid Treason while 've time;  
Public Confession shows you do Repent,  
And is the best way to grow Innocent.  
●●e too late, I have been led astray,  
And by Error, far from Truth, was led away;  
For that Religion never can be good,  
That would erect itself by Humane Blood.  
I pined myself upon another's sleeve,  
And blindly I did as the Church believe;  
What my delusive Guides did bid me do,  
That I believed was Holy, Just, and True.  
With Zeal Facted, and hoped for Applause,  
Of Men and Heaven, in so good a Cause:  
But oh! I sigh, and now my Airy Ghost,  
Shivers to think what Blessings I have lost:  
The broad way to Destruction than I took,  
And Virtues Road my blinded Zeal mistake.  
But you my Friends, who yet are left behind,  
Now to yourselves, and to your Souls be kind.  
Open her Eyes, and be no longer blind,  
Pry my sad End, do you your Errors find.  
Confess your Crimes before it be too late,  
Confess, confess, before you yield to Fate:  
Before from Life, and from the World you go,  
Before that you descend to Shades below,  
Before your Souls taste of Eternal Woe.  
Truth cannot Die, it stronger is than Death,  
Remains when Mortals have resigned their breath;  
To amazed Souls with Conscience she appears,  
To aggravate, and to increase their fears.  
Confess her while you live, though drawn to Sin,  
Repentance with Confession doth begin.  
Believe no longer that Accursed Brood,  
Who on the Necks of Kings have proudly trod,  
Nor him who thinks himself an Earthly God.  
Those Hectoring Jesuits who so Zealous be,  
Who think to Rule the world by Policy,  
Who to the Gallows seem with joy to come,  
To be the Martyrs, and the Saints of Rome.  
When Life is fled, and they are gone from hence,  
In tumbling down are waked into Sense;  
Where all amazed, and wondering where 've been,  
They howl, and cry, and wish to Die again.  
Beware I say, be fooled no longer here,  
For Rhadamanthus is a Judge severe.  
Hark! I am called, I must descend below,  
But let me Prophesy before I go:  
See the bright Star which o'er your heads doth shine,  
I can as well as Gadbury Divine;  
What the bright stream of Radiant Light doth mean,  
Which every Night so frequently is seen.  
Hear me, O Rome, though in your Cause I died,  
Nigh is the setting of your Pomp and Pride:  
That Star doth show, that Day is near at hand,  
That Rome no longer shall the World command,  
And many years it hath not now to stand.  
By that bright stream, which still points to the East,  
The Everlasting Gospel's Light's expressed;  
Which just is breaking forth, and doth bespeak,  
That its most Glorious Day's about to break:  
When Peace, and Truth, and Righteousness shall stand,  
Everlasting Pillars set in every Land,  
And Christ in Power alone the world command.  
Then shall the World shine with Eternal Glory,  
And I perhaps, may then leave PURGATORY.  
Finis.