Withers Redevivus: In a Small New-Years-Gift, Pro Rege & Grege: And to His Royal Highness the Prince of Orange.  
Wherein is a Most Strange and Wonderful PLOT, lately found out and Discovered. And Recommended to all the Imposing Members of the Church of England, to be by them acted, as part of their last Lent Confession.  
VIZ.  
To all Roman Catholic Priests and Jesuits of Persecuting Principles and Profession.  
With the Arraignment and Trial of Innocent the XI th'. Present Pope of Rome. Refused last Lent to be Licenced, by reason of the Matter therein contained.  
By T. P.  
London, Printed in the Year, 1689.   

INTRODUCTIO Authoris Liber ad Lectorem.  
BY Liberty Great Truth will sure Prevail,  
Not by an English or a Roman Flail,  
Let her but speak she'll make us all strike Sail,  
The States of Holland, how much have they got  
By this most Wise, and this true Christian Plot?  
In giving Liberty as well to those  
Who are Christ's Friends, as them who are his Foes.  
Permitting Tares and Wheat (by them) to stand  
Until the Harvest, (so did Christ command)  
When other States and Kingdoms round about,  
In this great Point have made so great a Rout,  
(Like raging Madmen who have lost their Reason,  
And cannot speak one wise word in due Season.  
We wish some Prelates now would Understand  
That so Christ's Truth may get the upper Hand)  
All Impositions in God's Church are Vain,  
Only State Tricks, A Roman Powder Trane,  
To Blow up Truth, although Repent they may  
When 'tis too Late, at the Great Judgement Day.  
This won't then serve, 'twas not the Church but State  
Which gave Dissenters such a broken Pate;  
When they themselves (God knows) with one Consent,  
Made Penal Laws in Acts of Parliament.  
For to oppress them, though themselver have got  
(To their great shame) an Everlasting Blot;  
For by such Laws, both Church and State they have  
Before their time, sent Thousands to their Grave.  
Nay, some affirm, this Cruelty alone  
Brought in those Bloody Wars in Forty One:  
Heaven only knows, what now will be their Fate,  
Who still shall trust in such a Church or State.  
Our Worthy Prelates none now dares to touch,  
Because Great Pillars of the Christian Church.  
God still preserve them in their present Station,  
Who under him are Saviour's of our Nation,  
Joined with an Orange-tree have brought to pass,  
To make Wise men no more to play the Ass:  
The Tory Men of War are those we blame,  
Which are a Blot unto the Christian Name:  
These are the Men we challenge with our Pen,  
All others are true Christian English Men,  
They will not hurt us, these Imposers may,  
And while the Sun doth shine, let us make Hay.  
These are the Men we now would have to Run,  
Like Mists and Fogs before the Rising Sun.  
Read now our Postscript, there you may find Hope,  
To see, e'er long, the Downfall of the Pope;  
Truth hath arraigned him, at the Court of Rome,  
And in short time you may expect his Doom;  
Who if found Guilty by his Noble Peers,  
They'll Lop him shorter by his Head and Ears▪  
Vale.   

THE Epistle Dedicatory, To all Loyal Protestants, and True English Men, (whether Conformists or Nonconformists) Readers.  
My Worthy Friends and Countrymen,  
SHould you ask why we join you both together,  
From you, it is, we must expect fair Wether;  
True English Men are those must do our work,  
Against the Pope, the Devil, and the Turk.  
(Now is the time for Men to show themselves,  
Whether true Christians, or true Roman Elves)  
You need no Pressing, you'll go Volanteers  
Against all such as pluck Men by the Ears  
For their Religion's sake; and such as these  
We must convince, than we shall be at Ease,  
Both in our Bodies and Estates likewise,  
Who would not venture at so great a Prize;  
Times would not bear last Spring our fair Intent,  
To make this Public in the time of Lent:  
Though the Contents are plained upon the Square,  
To all unbiass'd Men who Truth can bear,  
As you must own most plainly will appear,  
When you have viewed both our Front and Rear,  
Some Roman Clergy would have been offended  
At the Poor Whigs, had they it much commended.  
The English Clergy, neither more nor less,  
Would have been lauth their Old Sins to confess,  
(As you will find herein they ought and must,  
If to Dissenters they will be but Just,)  
As hoping still to get the Upper Hand,  
That then they might (as formerly) command.  
So a great Statesman fairly did us tell,  
'Twas not then time to raise so loud a Bell:  
Although the Plot he then did well approve,  
Wished, from his Soul, all would but live in Love,  
And that the Church of England Men would please,  
So to Confess, and give Dissenters Ease;  
Then would Old England be a Christian State,  
And to the Christian Turk might give check Mate.  
Bid us forbear a while, 'twould then be Best,  
When Church and State could bear so great a Test.  
Now is the time, if we will all agree  
To Centre in true Christian Liberty.  
Our Gracious Prince hath lead us all the Van,  
Let each of us, as a true English Man,  
Gird up our Loins, and stand up for Truth's side,  
Though we should Row against the Wind and Tide,  
As we have done for many years by past,  
Though now have hopes we shall prevail at last,  
His Royal Banners, we have lately seen,  
Such as wont March with all their Colours Green,  
Now in their Caps have surely got the Spleen.  
Let the high Tories, if they please, wear Red,  
Our hopeful Green will make them all turn Head,  
Or else we are mistaken in the Age,  
Wherein we hope there is a good Presage,  
Fall back fall edge, unto this Holy War  
We are resolved, wherein to get a Scar,  
By Writing, Speaking, pushing of a Pike,  
(Not Damning, Swearing, Whoring or the like,)  
Is greater Honour than a Dubbed Knight  
Shall get at home, if now he will not Fight.  
How will they look, when as they all must come  
Upon their Knees, to bid Him welcome Home;  
Who was our Valiant Captain, and did lead  
His Soldiers out, to bring them home to Bed.  
Not Hurdles nor Deal Board's, though plainly such  
Thousands have had, for not coming to Church,  
But Beds of Down, whereon we all shall Lie,  
When as Great Truth shall found the Victory:  
Were we but Muster-master for one Year,  
To take the Names of those that shall appear  
Under the Royal Standard, to Declare  
For Liberty, to have an Equal share;  
And for their Muster, take Six Pence a piece,  
Our Coat of Arms might be the Golden Fleece;  
And for Defaulters Half Crowns on the Nail,  
Instead of Buff, we'd wear a Coat of Mail.  
Though we do hope, although we thus do speak,  
There are but few, that would so hide and sneak.  
Then let us All declare, with Master Pen,  
Kings over Bodies, Christ the Souls of Men;  
Then will be truly Haltion days indeed,  
When for Religion none more here shall Bleed;  
And since last Lent the times are changed so much,  
And fearing not the Hogan Mogan Dutch,  
We now have ventured on the Public Stage,  
men's Heats to Cool, their Passions to assuage;  
And when our blust'ring Storms are past and gone,  
If Churchmen will confess, our work is done:  
We hope they will, and no more run Astray,  
Our Christian-Muse hath showed them all the Way.  
And if our downright Form shall please them well,  
(we'll soon ring out the Persecuting Knell.)  
We wish it may, and then our Tongues shall Ring,  
God Bless our Church, God Save Great James our King.  
Who is now raised, by God himself to Act  
This Great, this Noble, and most Christian Fact.  
Though differing from that Church we do Profess,  
So was great Cyrus (as we read) no Less.  
Oh! Happy Prince, whom God doth choose (though Late)  
To settle all things both in Church and State.  
And he that will not join in this Decree,  
Let him for ever lose his Pedigree  
By our Consent, thousands will vote the same,  
Or else we'll Post them in their Wits but lame:  
We know that you will join with one consent,  
To have it done in the next Parliament.  
trusties for us, and for our Prince's Good,  
When they shall once be fairly understood;  
And when our Antichristian Wars shall cease,  
Truth will proclaim an Everlasting Peace  
In this our Land, and all the World throughout,  
Though to some States will be a Fatal Rout.  
The Time's a coming, long it will not be,  
Let them remember but MDCC.  
Which is the Period of that time, some fix  
Upon that Text, six hundred sixty six. 
Rev. 13. 16.   
And as we met, now let us part in love,  
God Bless you All, with his Grace from Above.  
I am, (Gentlemen,) Your most Passionate and most Affectionate Friend, to Love, Honour, and Serve you, as a True English Man, for Liberty and Property, according to the utmost of his slender Ability, Theophilus Philalethes.   

POSTSCRIPT.  
SHould this pass Muster now without Control,  
And that the Romans will not us Cajole,  
But Friendly take it, than we will be plain,  
Your bashful Poet hath an higher strain  
Now in his hands, and ready for the Press,  
And to be short, it is a Fair Address  
Unto such Men, whose Learning and whose Parts,  
Makes each of them to write Master of Arts.  
Our Plot therein, and the Contents are such,  
To bring all Noncons to the Public Church,  
On such fair Terms, that none shall them deny,  
Which do profess true Christianity.  
If this won't please, some Dog-Stars rule the Dice,  
We may throw Cink, but never shall throw Sice,  
We'll tell you more when we have broke the Ice.  
Cink is for them, our Chance is two times Three,  
No other Point we have to set us Free.  
Cink is for Penal Laws, Sice is for none,  
When we throw Six, Oh! then the Town's our own:  
We first would hear how this Plot is Resented,  
Before our Second shall be fairly Printed.   

To the Imposing Members of the Church of England, herein concerned.  
WE may presume, that we shall now be shent,  
For interrupting you this time of Lent;  
Wherein you spend much of your time, with such  
As are the Members of your English Church.  
We must confess, we are herein to blame,  
But Truth suggested that she knew no shame;  
And therefore bid us in our Muse proceed,  
For of such Men she never had more need.  
Confessions now at Court are Alamode,  
As well as in your Churches common Road.  
At this time of the year, which things are good,  
When once they are but rightly understood;  
But when restrained to a certain time,  
As you and others of the Roman Line  
Have so long used, one time above another,  
As well the Daughter as the ancient Mother;  
And that it should your God above so please  
At this set time, and give your Conscience ease,  
We cannot apprehend, and therefore must  
Keep close to Truth, and to God's Word be Just;  
Who bids us, when we sin, then to Repent,  
And not to stay until the time of Lent;  
Before that time should God remove us hence,  
Where should we find the true St. Peter's Pence:  
Should we then dare to knock at that Saint's Gate  
Without Repentance, we should come too late.  
But since Confessions are in Vogue so much,  
As well in yours, as in the Roman Church:  
If now you Church of England Men will Please,  
This time of Lent, and give your Conscience Ease,  
To make your Public and your Free Confession,  
To all those Jesuits who do make Profession  
Of the same Faith as is professed at Rome,  
In this prescribed Form which now is come  
Unto your hands, although the Form be such,  
As will not please the Old Right Roman Church;  
Yet we will freely give you all Remission,  
Without those Jesuits, or the Pope's Commission,  
Which some believe may be as firm and Full,  
As if proclaimed by his Roaring Bull.  
Turn over Leaf, and there you may Behold  
These Christian Pills, and all Inlaid with Gold;  
Which if you take, will do your Souls more Good,  
Than all the Crabtrees in your Church's Wood:  
And if they prove too Gentle and too Kind,  
We have a stronger Potion yet behind;  
Which some presume, without any more to do,  
Will cure the Pope, and Church of England too;  
And so make way for a more Christian State,  
Which shall treat All without a Broken Pate,  
Ho Antichristos then will have Checkmate.  
This purging Pill which is more strong and stout,  
(Deo juvante) next Spring shall come out;  
It may be sooner as we now shall find,  
Unto our Muse you shall be cursed or kind.  
In the mean while, if what we now have sent  
Unto our Prince, and the next Parliament,  
As a Small Present for the next New Year,  
And they accept it, than we do not Fear  
But King and Parliament will both agree,  
To banish hence All Roman Trumpery,  
And all things else as shall offensive be  
Unto God's Church, and Christian Liberty;  
Which when effected, than our Bells shall Ring,  
And all with one consent, aloud shall sing,  
God save Great James our Christian Faith's Defender,  
Who to his Subjects will be Dear and Tender,  
When they chop off the Persecution Joint,  
And they speak French, and all shall cry Non Point.  

POSTSCRIPT.  
WHen sturdy Storms are gone and passed,  
Shall pleasant Calms appear,  
If Churchmen will confess at last,  
Then Rome we need not fear.   Nunquam sera est ad Bonos mores Via.  

The Imposing Members of the Church of England, part of their Last Lent Confession, as then recommended to be made by them, viz.  
To all Roman Catholic Priests and Jesuits, of Persecuting Principles and Profession.  

I.  
COme, let us Sing, God Save our King,  
From all your hopeful Crew;  
Could we once more, but Guard our Shore  
From such Bold Priests as you,  
Oh! then we will, use all our Skill,  
At once to make us Free:  
Noncons we'll Court, to spoil your Sport,  
Then surely down go Ye.   

II.  
And since we find, those Men Inclined,  
To give us all Remission;  
This time of Lent, before all Spent,  
we'll make our fair Confession;  
And never more, as heretofore,  
Run straying like lost Sheep,  
Which do not know, what way to go,  
Nor the right Path to keep.   

III.  
We will begin, with our great Sin,  
We mean the Penal Laws,  
'Gainst those who were, our Brethren Dear,  
And for the self same Cause  
As we do own, and have it Shown  
Of late to their Contents;  
Therefore we will, no more speak Ill  
Of them to Parliaments.   

IV.  
Though for push pins, and such small things,  
We were so stiff and stout,  
Like young Schoolboys, who fight for Toys,  
And so we got this Rout.  
If we had but, Dissentes Put  
With us in equal Right;  
In spite of Fate, and all Rome's Hate,  
You never could us By't.   

V.  
But we were All, both great and Small,  
Resolved those Men to Slur,  
And at the last, riding so Fast,  
We lost our Rippon Spur,  
And by that loss, you did us Cross,  
When we in full Carier,  
And by our lengths, you found our strengths,  
And cut off all our Hair.   

VI  
A Milk white Steed, true Yorkshire Breed,  
With Resolution brave,  
Did lead you out, with Courage Stout,  
Despised Whigs to save;  
And by his Art, you got the Start  
Of our whole Tribe of Gad,  
Who now in Swarms, pull in their Horns,  
And Swear we were all Mad.   

VII.  
Though to our shame, we were to blame,  
To use those Men so Gross,  
When you Prevail, your Roman Flail  
Will treat them ten times worse:  
And therefore they, so often Pray  
To be delivered from  
Our English Rods, but more by Odds,  
From your Bonfires of Rome.   

VIII.  
An Instance brave, of this we have,  
At our next Neighbour's Door,  
we'll ask them first, which they will Trust,  
A Jesuit or a Whore.  
Their Answer shall, now serve us All,  
Their Verdict we will take;  
They say the first, if we shall trust,  
Will make our Hearts to Ache.   

IX.  
We say again, could we obtain  
That Power we have lost;  
We would no more, run on that Score  
To poor Dissenters Cost.  
Since we do hear (what some much Fear)  
That Edict from Whitehall;  
As most Men say, will make them Pay  
Both Use and Principal.   

X.  
There's one of Fame, bears his own shame,  
With much Regret we hear;  
Because his Trust, re-fund he must  
A whisking large Arrear.  
Which neither we, nor you could see  
Should ever come to pass:  
This was a stretch, above our reach,  
And sure from Heaven it was.   

XI.  
A Judgement Just, confess we must,  
Is now come on our Heads;  
And therefore now, a while must Bow  
To Crosses and to Beads.  
We kiss the Rod, but when our God  
Shall take off all his Birch;  
Dissenters shall, no more us call  
A Persecuting Church.   

XII.  
And we confess, we could you Bless,  
With many happy days,  
In this our Land, by his great Hand,  
Who now the Sceptre Sways.  
If this won't Please, to give you Ease,  
But you must Rule Likewise,  
We must Forbear, such Birds to Rear,  
As will pluck out your Eyes.   

XIII.  
And to be Plain, in the last Reign,  
'Twas all you did Require,  
But now we see, not Liberty,  
But Rule is your Desire:  
If so, take heed, your Royal Steed  
Do not at last Deceive you;  
Should he once drop, all your fair Crop  
Of Friends would surely leave you.   

XIV.  
Then take advice, be not too Nice,  
In what you do demand,  
To save your Bones, and all your Stones,  
Is great in this our Land:  
If this you crave, you may it have,  
By Magna Charta Right;  
If you ask more, your Roman Power,  
Is still working by Night.   

XV.  
Which we in time, must Countermine,  
And now's the time or never;  
Should we it miss, your Rods in Piss  
Will ruin us for ever.  
We value not, what you can Plot,  
In our great Prince's Reign;  
But after here, may one appear,  
And of King Pharaoh's Train.   

XVI.  
Who did not know, nor would he show,  
To Joseph or his Race;  
What the same Line, before his time,  
Had done with so much Grace;  
Like to our King, who the same thing  
Now acts with open Face,  
To those who were, in Bondage here,  
Under our Jehu Race.   

XVII.  
Therefore we must, not put our Trust,  
In any Mortals Hand,  
Unless we sure, he could endure,  
For ever to command.  
But this no Man, in Reason can  
Believe it from his Heart;  
Therefore we will, use our best Skill,  
Lest you should get the Start.   

XVIII.  
And thus you see, how Frank and Free  
We are in our Confession;  
We pray that you, the same will do,  
You have the King's Permission;  
Who doth Declare, so Just and Fair  
To all the World, that he  
Will give to All, both Great and Small,  
True Christian Liberty.   

XIX.  
This act alone, we needs must own  
Unto our Prince's Praise;  
That by this Plot, himself hath Got  
The Everlasting Bayss:  
That when to Dust, submit he must  
His Crown but Transitory;  
His Soul then shall, in heavens Whitehall  
Enjoy Eternal Glory.   

XX.  
And we do hope, your future Pope  
Molino's part will take;  
As once did this, such Rods in Piss  
Will make you Jesuits Quake.  
For surely this, most fatal is  
To all Rome's special Fry;  
Some Jesuits here, so much it Fear,  
They Curse him bitterly.   

XXI.  
And says he Dotes, like Doctor Oates,  
Though others are more kind;  
Who Swear by Pan, that Holy Man  
To Virtue is Inclined:  
Should this take Root, your Cloven Foot  
A short time would Discover;  
And those that have, been long your Slave,  
To Truth will be brought over.   

XXII.  
We wish we may, but see this day.  
In our Great Prince's Reign;  
Should he once find, you did him Blind,  
He'd blow up all your Train;  
Then you your Flight, must take by Night  
As some Poor Creatures do;  
When from some hollow Tree they flee,  
And cry, Next Oars, Hoop, Hoo.   

XXIII.  
Yatchs than will be, we do Foresee,  
Most excellent Bee-hives,  
To save your Drones, and precious Stones,  
As well as all your Lives:  
And happy Man, that then but can  
Be first within their Sides;  
Captains look out, be not too Stout,  
Take all to save their Hides.   

XXIV.  
And so Farewell, we'll ring your Knell,  
From off our British Isle,  
When your new Plots, by Priests and Sots,  
Turn Cross instead of Pile.  
And may your sham's, and base Trappans,  
To worry Innocent Sheep,  
With all your Train, that pass the Main,  
Never more cross the Deep.   

XXV.  
Then we will Sing, God Save our King,  
From such a hopeful Crew,  
Who never leave, till they deceive  
Both Prince and People too.  
And since we must, to him be Just,  
Who saith your Priests are Wise;  
Our AnswersAnswers this, don't take't amiss,  
That by Saint George he L— s.   

XXVI.  
We know this well, and can you tell,  
Without a Doctor's Fee;  
Whatever Church, makes use of Birch,  
Are Fools we plainly see;  
To say no more, you have a Score  
To pay as well as we;  
And when our Cup, we have drank up,  
Your Church may drink the Lee.  
We do advise, you to be wise,  
Confess as we have done,  
That you no more, will play the Whore,  
And so prevent your Doom.    

A Postscript to the aforesaid Imposers.  
SO long as hot Spurs here shall rule the Roast,  
We must expect a sharp and biting Frost;  
Until such time as Truth shall overcome,  
Though not by Trumpets or that Beat of Drum,  
Which calls the Sons of Mars unto their Arms,  
Hers only are most Sweet Malodious Charms,  
Which so Inflames all such as do desire,  
But to approach unto her Sacred Fire;  
Which doth so purge them from their Dross and Tin,  
All's fair without, and all true hearts within;  
Makes them stout Champions in God's righteous Cause,  
To fight against all Antichristian Laws:  
Their Weapons are no Muskets, Pike or Sword,  
But Paper Pellets of God's Written Word,  
And as Rams Horns long since did overcome,  
So shall these Bullets shake the Walls of Rome.  
That Hydra whence some Churches long have made,  
(As she them taught) a very gainful Trade;  
Which was, in short, by that accursed Fate,  
Truth to defend by knock-down Laws of State;  
As if not able to defend her Right,  
Unless the Powers on Earth should for her Fight;  
They left the Rule, and brought such Notions in,  
As made them Partners in their Mother's Sin;  
But all must Fall (Great Truth will them Discover)  
As well the Daughters as the ancient Mother.  
And when that Lady shall be out of Date,  
Some Men then sure will be ashamed to Prate  
(As they have done) at that Tantivy Rate,  
For Laws established both in Church and State.  
The last is ours, the first it is God's Throne,  
And such as grate so much upon that Bone,  
Are Rebels more than those of Forty One.  
This we aver, and prove it will beside,  
When Church and State shall be on plain Truth's side:  
Your Church of England owns unto this hour,  
(What some deny) all Magistrates a Power  
In Matters of Religion; which some say  
You learned from Rome, and so went all Astray  
As you have done in many things beside;  
Ruined Old England by your shameful Pride.  
The Roman Church ('tis true) have you outdone;  
But you have worshipped to that rising Sun;  
As Thousands they have felt unto their Cost  
By Fines and Prisons (and their Lives have Lost)  
All which did come to pass to that Degree,  
For want of giving Christian Liberty.  
As you have twisted Church and State together,  
So your two Churches we can hardly sever;  
You are so like the one unto the other,  
We know the Daughter by the ancient Mother.  
To us no Matter which Church now prevails,  
For you have Stings (we find) in both your Tails.  
If we must suffer for true Conscience sake,  
We value not what Church our Lives do take;  
All one to us, provided we must go,  
Whether by Romans or England's Old Steel Bow.  
Only the Romans promise now more Fair  
Than your Church doth, which nothing is but Air.  
What we would have, they join with one Consent,  
To have enacted by next Parliament:  
You only say, that you may be so kind  
To Poor Dissenters, as you then shall find  
A Convocation shall think fit therein;  
Which is, in short, a Church of England Gin,  
To catch small Gudgeons, and thereby delude  
The easy and too Credulous Multitude  
Of Honest Whigs, who hope you'll now do more  
Than ever you have promised heretofore;  
Though others know your Priest Craft it is such  
Against all those that come not too your Church;  
That Parliaments themselves will always do,  
What you, when met, shall then Advise them to.  
So that our Freedoms from you first must come,  
Or else Enslaved until the day of Doom.  
This we would have you ponder in your Mind,  
Then tell poor Whigs how far you will be kind;  
They do not know what in their straits to do,  
Believe the Papists, or put trust in You;  
They promise Liberty, you promise none,  
But call Dissenters Men of Forty One:  
So that unless that you will promise more,  
We see no Reason why they should come over  
Unto your Side, but keep their Station still,  
To join with those as shall enact their Will.  
They are as far from Popery as you,  
And to the Christian Church will prove as True;  
But when our English Papists shall declare,  
As they have done, some things so Just and Fair  
And we not join therein to have them Acted,  
You then may tell us we are all Distracted.  
We blame both Churches for your sinful Itch  
Of Persecution, whereby to Enrich  
So many Idle Drones as you have got  
Within the Pale of your foul Garden Spot.  
And by that Goddess Avarice and Pride,  
Errors stick close unto both Church's side:  
Who would not be a Priest, when he can make  
The God that made him in a Wafer Cake?  
And when so wrought, and to the Laics shown,  
They all do eat his Body, Flesh and Bone;  
That very Body which hung on the Tree,  
When Crucisied, from Death to make us Free:  
If this be true, why stand we in Suspense?  
Let's haste to Rome with our St. Peter's Pence,  
Which formerly this Land paid every Year,  
As a small Homage to that Holy Chair;  
And for that whisking Sum that is behind,  
And in arrear, to our Dear Mother kind  
Let's Prostrate on our Knees, and her Beseech  
For to remit, and not to whip our Britch  
(For playing Truant so long from her School,  
And drawn away by each Reformed Fool;  
Who doubtless will, if unto her we Pray,  
And make Confession on St. Peter's Day,  
And promise then no more to run Astray.  
Show True Repentance for the time to Come,  
By our Obedience to the Church of Rome;  
And if we see her smiling in her Looks,  
Then promise fairly to burn all our Books.  
This thing alone will do that Church more Good,  
Than Smithfield Rounds when stained with Christian Blood.  
(If now we will but fairly, all come in,  
We may have Pardon for our greatest Sin)  
Sanguis Martyrum Mobiles do hate,  
Shows unto them an Antichristian State  
Who know no better, yet they plainly see  
This cannot be the True Christianity,  
To Burn a Man alive for doing Well,  
This can't proceed from Heaven, but sure from Hell.  
Thanks be to God, our Prince is now become  
A Member of Christ's Church, and not of Rome  
In this one Point, which is worth all the Rest,  
And for the same may his Dear Soul have Rest.  
And after Death, may Limbus Patrum know,  
Only a Ficton and a Rare Show;  
A Hocus Pocus Trick of Roman Elves,  
To Pick men's Pockets to enrich themselves.  
An Ignis Fatuus, only to delude  
The great, unthinking, easy Multitude,  
Who can't distinguish between Wrong and Right,  
Between their Deeds of Darkness and true Light;  
By Fishermen of Rome 'twas first Invented,  
And of this Net they never yet Repent:  
They have no cause, and therefore never Will,  
The choicest Piece of their rare Art and Skill.  
So soon as made, Old Nets they threw away,  
Instead of Fishing, learned how to Pray.  
The Fishermen of Barkin, had they made  
But such a Net, what a Prodigious Trade  
Had that Town got; nay, more we will be Bold,  
They might, long since, have paved their Streets with Gold.  
But they, poor Souls (alas!) did never sit  
In Peter's Chair, to learn Successive Wit,  
Which was improved so much by them who stood  
To be Successors of that piece of Wood;  
A Sacred Piece, no doubt, St. Peter's Chair  
Wherein he sat at Rome, and there did wear  
His Triple Crown, although he ne'er came there.  
A thing most strange, yet not so strange as True,  
If you will search among the Learned Crew  
Of Church Historians; 'tis a dubious Point,  
Enough to put the Pope's Nose out of Joint;  
For they suppose (and this may end all Strife)  
He never was at Rome in all his Life:  
His Mission was unto the Jewish Race,  
But to the Gentiles Paul did preach God's Grace  
But leaving this Contest, we'll tell you how  
This Net was made, and who did Speed the Blow.  
These Fishermen, at their first setting out,  
Caught only small Fish, seldom got a Trout;  
But in short time, laying their Heads together,  
They made a Net to serve all Winds and Weather,  
And ever since, at every Haul and Throw  
The caught Fat Salmon and small Gudgeons too,  
Trout, Tenches, Pikes, and Sharks too of all Sizes,  
Whole Shoals of Whiteings of all Rates and Prizes,  
Crabs, Lobsters, Prawns, and Codsheads without number,  
'Twas hard to part each others Let asunder:  
So many Souls sometimes are caught, that they  
Have hardly Bags to Port that Fish away.  
And when too small, they throw them back again,  
Into that Element from whence they came,  
Until such time they are a Statute Size,  
Then to their Nets they are a Legal Prize.  
Hum quoth Pope Pius, this will do our Feat,  
When we impose this Pius Fraud and Cheat;  
As a great Point of the True Christian Faith,  
As now their Learned Authors plainly saith;  
This is that Limbus Patrum they have found,  
To purge all Souls which come with their Round:  
Who can them Blame for building such Free Schools,  
To catch some Knaves, and to trappan rich Fools:  
From East to West, from North to Southern Cape,  
(Like Greedy Vultures) to commit a Rape  
Upon our Senses and our Reasons they  
Will compass Sea and Land to get their Prey.  
Their Sacra Fames to the Golden Ore,  
Makes them love Fishing on the Indian Shore,  
There is that Goddess which they so Adore.  
Here we will leave them to give those the Lurch,  
Who are such Fops to trust in such a Church.  
And to Conclude (our Muse) to please you all,  
She now will Storm the Roman Capital,  
By an Address unto those Prelates there,  
Which are the highest, next the Roman Chair.  
The Cardinals of Rome, these are the Men  
She will attack, now with her Christian Pen;  
And if our Scaling Ladders do succeed,  
we'll make his Hoary Head and Heart to Bleed;  
And may the Heavenly Host inspire our Pen,  
That by their Aid, these great and Mighty Men  
May be so charmed, as to confess and say  
They have all erred, and have gone Astray.  
Now with this Prologue we will Mount the Stage  
Most Noble Lords, so learned and so Sage,  
We humbly pray that you will please to hear,  
What now great Truth shall whisper in your Ear.  
We here are come, most plainly you to tell,  
How first the Wars betwixt you fell;  
And Christ's true Church by your Usurping Popes,  
From whose great Bondage now there is great Hopes,  
That other Nations too, as well as we,  
From that Egyptian Yoke may be set Free.  
And it was thus, when first they did Presume,  
Unto themselves a Power to Assume  
Over Christ's Church, which he did never give,  
Nor never will, as long as they shall Live.  
And by that Power, held with Force and Strife,  
Made them all Rebels to the Lord of Life,  
Which unto you shall plainly now appear,  
If but with Patience you will lend an Ear;  
And if you will own Scripture and your Reason,  
You'll find them guilty of most Horrid Treason:  
Truth doth impeach them, and they all shall have▪  
A Noble Trial most Genteel and Brave:  
You shall be Judges both of Law and Fact,  
This you must own to be a Genteel Act,  
To make their Friends both Judge and Jury too,  
Nothing but Truth would venture so to do.  
These mighty Prelates (now supposed in Court)  
After this Manner we will Storm their Fort.  
First then they left their only Supreme Head,  
By wilful straying to an Harlot's Bed;  
And by their Fornication, Wine and Oil  
The Nations of the Earth they did beguile.  
Then was the War Proclaimed, and did begin  
Then was revealed, the great Man of Sin,  
Justly so styled by his coming In.  
With lying Signs and Wonders to bewitch  
Most Churches since, with his most sinful Itch,  
And setting in God's Temple, with his Cope,  
There shows himself your great Lord God the Pope.  
If this won't do, the Treason for to find,  
We have a Nubes Testium yet behind.  
And if your Foreman now shall take his Pen  
Into his Hand, Record but now and then  
Only the heads, of what they all shall swear,  
Their evidence shall be strong and clear,  
That Billa Vera, you will quickly find,  
And how our Saviour never left behind  
Such substitutes as now are at the Bar,  
None of Christ's Vicars, but Impostors are;  
Let now your Court but call them and command  
Silence a while, and you shall understand.  Enter Witnesses. 
You Roman Lords, whom now great truth as such,  
Hath made you Judges of your Head and Church,  
Though from that Head you have been raised so high,  
Yet on your Justice she will now rely,  
Y 〈…〉 as Men now much concerned for those  
〈…〉 Friends and never were your Foes.  
Earthquakes and Fires, Pestilence and Sword,  
You hear too much from all those Friends abroad,  
Which often are Praecursors of ill Fate,  
Sometimes to Churches, sometimes to a State;  
We wish they may but have their due Effect  
Upon all those which God's Laws now neglect;  
The Grand Superiors, though they seldom meet,  
Yet when they do, their Aspects are not sweet.  
If this Court please to try your present Head,  
(Pope Innocent) who standeth in Christ's steed;  
As all his Predecessors did before,  
Find him but Guilty, let him pay their Score;  
They will be punished in the World to come,  
You may him punish now he's Pope of Rome:  
(All are Vicegerents for the Golden Fleece,  
Not for lean Rabbits, but for all Fat Geese.  
As we have Sworn, we do declare here first,  
That this Great Prelate hath betrayed that Trust  
Which he pretends unto, as will appear  
To this High Court, by Evidence most clear.  
Christ's Precepts were, to teach Men by his Word,  
His Precepts are to teach Men by his Sword.  
Christ's Precepts were to live an Holy Life,  
And when Men pleased, might take a Virtuous Wife.  
His Precepts are so Chaste as to take none,  
Like to that Virtuous Pope the Lady Joan.  
Our Blessed Lord washed his Disciples Feet,  
But this Great Lord, his Subjects they must Greet  
His Sacred' Toes, in that submissive From,  
As if to stoop he did abhor and Scorn.  
Christ's Kingdom was, to rule men's Hearts and Souls,  
But in his Kingdom he all Men Cajoles,  
Both in their Bodies and their Souls likewise,  
To make them all to him a Legal Prize.  
Nay, more (My Lords) he doth Depose at Pleasure  
His Neighbour Princes, to augment his Treasure;  
Absolves their Subjects from that Faith and Trust,  
They swear to them for to fulfil his Lust  
When as he is but in a Rampant Fit  
Never did Peter such a Sin commit,  
Nor never did in such great Power sit.  
His Doctrine was to Fear God and the King,  
But his Successors they know no such thing▪  
Christ's Precept was, to let the Wheat and Tares  
Grow till the Harvest, he plucks up the Ears  
Of all the Wheat that in his Corn can find,  
Roots all that up, but leaves the Tares behind.  
Christ's Precept was to Peter; Feed my Sheep;  
His Precepts are, to lay them fast asleep  
By scorching Flames. He sends them under ground▪  
Till the last Trump shall for their Body's sound.  
Christ's Worship was, in Spirit and in Truth,  
His Worship is Trash, Trumpery and Froth.  
Christ never twisted Church and State together,  
But always did his Church from State still Sever,  
As not concerned with the Civil Sword,  
To force his Subjects to obey his Word.  
(His Soldiers always must be Volanteers,  
Or else they are not Wheat but musty Tares.)  
But your great Prince, as great as Cup and Can,  
Have twisted them together in one Man.  
Look on him now, and on his Hoary Pate,  
There you may read not only Church but State.  
Old Gregory Graybeard, Since Ace of that Name,  
So soon as he unto the Popedom came,  
By his old subtle and great conjuring Art,  
Of Church and State he then did get the Start;  
Wresting the Power from great Cesar's Hand,  
So Church and State he after did command.  
This HEL-DE-BRAND, or Brand of Hell by Name  
The greatest Blot unto the Christian Name,  
The greatest Monster and the greatest Cheat,  
That ever happened to the Roman Seat,  
Of all the Popes that ever ruled before,  
The nearest Type of the true Scarlet Whore;  
Nay, some presume he was that Strumpet which  
Saint John foresaw the Nations did Bewitch;  
For ever since by his Example shown,  
All his Successors have usurped Christ's Throne,  
And taught their neighbour Princes the same Trade,  
Christ's Power in God's Church for to Invade.  
Blessed be God that English Men now see  
That our great Prince from this great Sin is Free.  
Pardon (My Lords) this small Digression here,  
And we'll proceed to what we more can Swear.  
Christ's Precepts were unto all Men to do  
As they by others would be done unto;  
That Golden Rule which he did them prescribe  
To every Nation and to every Tribe;  
But his Precepts are of another Strain,  
As Thousands to their Cost (though to his shame)  
Do daily find, which live within his Round;  
He spareth none, but sends them to Lob's Pound.  
Instead of giving all their Equal Right,  
In doing wrong his Soul doth take Delight.  
His quiet Subjects round him far and near  
He Persecutes, because they quiet are;  
Witness MOLINOS and his PEN-like Crew,  
If this be Justice, pray (My Lords) Judge you,  
To punish those who are both still and quiet,  
Who would treat Men with that course sort of Diet,  
(Which plainly shows with what inveterate Hate  
That Church still bears, to a true Christian State.)  
God's Precepts are to Worship him alone,  
Through Jesus Christ his true and only Son.  
His Precepts are to Worship many more,  
Thousands of Wafers they for Gods adore,  
Who are his Subjects by his great Command,  
(Good God what worship is in all his land)  
The Heathen worship they have quite outdone,  
In their adoring of the Rising Sun.  
That Lamp hath Light, Heat, Motion, theirs have none,  
They may as well fall to a Stock or Stone;  
Yet they believe these Gods of Bread they see  
Before their Eyes, to have Ubiquity.  
Ten thousand Bodies in one place at once,  
And of their Faith herein they greatly Bounce,  
This they affirm, and this they do believe,  
And pin their Faith upon your Church's Sleeve,  
Although repugnant to all Sense and Reason,  
Yet to deny it, doth amount to Treason  
By Statute Law, as plainly did appear,  
When as your Head and Church was fixed here.  
His Prayers to all Saints is much the same,  
Which ought to be in Christ's most Holy Name,  
According to that Form he did Prescribe  
To every Nation and to every Tribe,  
To be observed, when they Addresses make  
To the most High, should be for his Names sake  
Who died for us, rose again to Save,  
At the last Trump, Believers from the Grave.  
And after that, would give Eternal Breath  
To those who now are Faithful until Death.  
Nay, his own Subjects he deludes so Far  
As to Believe, those which but Creatures are  
To be Omniscient; Oh! this Horrid Gin  
Makes him undoubtedly the Man of Sin;  
Who doth exhalt himself so over All,  
Whom all true Christians the most High do call,  
To pray to those, their wisest Men can't tell,  
Whether their Souls are now in Heaven or Hell,  
Is such a piece of Nonsense and ill Fame,  
To give this Bastard Child a Proper Name,  
We Language want, and therefore here must cease  
Wishing your Honour's Everlasting Peace.  
(Although to speak the Truth, your Head and Pope  
For this alone, he doth deserve a Rope.)  
And now (My Lords) to sum up all what's said,  
In this great Cause, wherein he hath betrayed  
That only Trust which he pretends unto,  
We ask no Favour, only Justice do.  
These are the Crimes for which he stands Indicted  
(Pope Innocent) Pray let him not be slighted  
By your High Court, but let him Justice have,  
Although it be to send him to his Grave.  
We have arraigned him, you his Cause have heard,  
It lies on your Part, when to shave his Beard;  
Great Truth doth still repose such trust in you,  
You shall be Grand and Petty Jury too;  
Which surely is so fair, all Men will judge,  
That to be tried by you he will not grudge;  
And if you find your Head, that Scarlet Whore,  
In Sacred Writ Revealed, we'll ask no more,  
As we do hope you will, then shall we sing  
Deum's, to our Lord and King,  
And all St. Peter's Bells in Rome shall Ring.  
Should he plead Guilty, than we beg this Boon,  
(In Truth's behalf) he may not die so soon  
As might expected be, for such a Crime,  
For his Repentance, Pray let him have time;  
But when his day of Execution comes,  
Sound all your Trumpets and Beat all your Drums,  
To call together all the Armed Force  
You then can make, both of your Foot and Horse,  
To Guard your City Gates, and all your Streets,  
Lest the enraged Mobile you meets,  
To Rescue him out of your City's Hands,  
By their unruly and their Headstrong Bands;  
For Education is so mighty strong,  
They love no Changes, whether right or wrong.  
This by Experience England now doth find,  
He that don't see it, surely is Stone Blind.  
Were English Boys now on your City Ground,  
They'd make no bones to Race her to the Ground.  
We are afraid, they are so grievous Rude,  
We cannot stop the present Multitude,  
Against all those whom now they so much Hate,  
Though in their Rage meet many a broken Pate.  
heavens so protect us from their Furious Heat,  
They do not make both Prince and People Sweat.  
And so (My Lords) we'll take our fair Adieu,  
The Issues here, are solely left to you:  
Our Proofs are plain, you cannot them withstand,  
Ask your own Conscience, that will you command;  
This Light within, which is on great Truth's side,  
Will you Impeach, and all the World beside:  
Consider then, how you are acted now,  
heavens you direct, and so God speed the Blow.  
Though Innocent and Guilty we may Swear,  
So opposite as Truth and Falsehood are:  
For to be Innocent and Guilty too,  
A thing most strange, yet not so strange as true;  
And shows to all who are not in a Heat,  
All Innocent Popes are but a Sacred Cheat;  
And tho' with Lamb's Horns to the World appear,  
Yet Wolves and Tigers to Christ's Flock they are.  
Monstrum Horrendum we may truly say,  
To all such Popes who have so gone Astray;  
Yet by Experience we do daily find  
Some Men among us of the selfsame mind,  
Who are a Limb of the right Scarlet Whore,  
So long as Penal Statutes they Adore.  
Good Lord forgive them if it be thy Will,  
If not, Confound them in their Craft and Skill,  
That so Christ's Church may more and more Increase,  
And Truth proclaim an Everlasting Peace.  
heavens say Amen to what we do desire,  
And save us all From Everlasting Fire.   

Epilogus aut Conclusio.  
WHat though the Church of England is so high?  
What though the Kirk of Scotland is laid buy?  
Though the same time she is a Crafty Spy.  
What though the Church of Rome plays, Have at All?  
What though Dissenters cry, No Church at all?  
Were better much, than to have such a Church,  
As leaves all others but themselves i'th' Lurch.  
What though, last Spring, two Churches lay at Stake?  
And neither would a saving Bargain Make:  
One Church did hope to get the Upper Hand,  
The other still would have the sole Command:  
One Church, by chance, did get the Wether Gage,  
Then smoke of Gun-shot made the other Rage:  
One would not stoop, the other would not yield,  
And by consent they both did take the Field.  
They both were sullen, and were both so High,  
And neither would with our fair Muse comply  
To give her Licence, though if then they had,  
For aught they know, times had not been so bad  
With some of them, yet still we hope to see  
All things to end in Perfect Amity.  
No Warlike Drums within our Streets shall hear,  
But all our Churches Orange Flowers bear;  
All Antichristian Laws shall be abhorred,  
And all with Meekness serve the Highest Lord.   

A Copy of VERSES long since made, but very Proper at this present Conjuncture to be Perused by some straight-laced Men, now of our English Nation, Viz.  

I.  
OPinion Rules the Humane State,  
And Domineers in every Land;  
Shall Sea or Mountain Separate  
Whom God hath joined in Nature's Band▪  
Dwell they far, or dwell they near,  
They're all my Father's Children Dear.   

II.  
Lend me the bright Wings of the Morn,  
That I from hence may take my Flight,  
From Cancer unto Capricorn,  
Far swifter than the Lamp of Night.  
Where e'er my winged Soul doth fly,  
All's Fair and Lovely in mine Eye.   

III.  
Features and Colours of the Hair,  
These all do meet in Harmony;  
The Black, the Brown, the Red, the Fair,  
All Tinctures of Variety.  
In single simple Love alone,  
These Various Colours are but one.   

IV.  
I'th' Phlegmatic I Sweetness find,  
The Melancholy Grave and Wise;  
The Sanguine Merry to my Mind,  
From Choler Flames of Love arise.  
In single simple Love alone,  
All these Complexions are but one.   

V.  
The Nightingale doth never say  
(Though he be King of Melody)  
Unto the Cuckoo or the Jay,  
Why sing you not so sweet as I.  
Each tunes his Harp in Love alone,  
These Various Notes are all but one.   

VI  
Behold the painful labouring Hand,  
And he that keeps the harmless Sheep;  
The Country Swain that Tills the Land,  
The Merchant that doth Plough the Deep,  
Each doth his Work in Love alone,  
One Works for all, and all for one.   

VII.  
I Love with all my Heart and Soul,  
The French, the Dutch, the English Man,  
The Turk, the Swede, the Dane, the Pole,  
The Spaniard, and the African.  
In this I see, in Love alone,  
All Nations reconciled are one.   

VIII.  
With open Arms, let me embrace  
The Heathen, Christian, Turk or Jew,  
The Lovely and Deformed Face,  
The Sober and the Jovial Crew.  
In single simple Love alone,  
All Forms and Features are but one.   

IX.  
The Protestant is all my Joy,  
The Baptist and the Monarchy;  
The Puritan (though he be Coy)  
The Papist full of Charity.  
In single simple Love alone,  
All these Persuasions are but one.   

X.  
Then Sail I with my Love as far  
As China and the Indian Shore;  
From the Arctic to the Antarctic Star,  
The Tawny and the Blackamoor.  
From thence I Travel round about,  
To Countries never yet found out.   

XI.  
My Heart of Love is very Sick,  
All Nations in the World I woe;  
My Soul is turning Catholic,  
And so is my Religion too.  
The Deity in all doth move,  
So Universal is my Love.   
FINIS.