THE ELDERS DREAM. WITH THE ARMY'S Message or Declaration to both Houses of Parliament.  
Printed in the Year. 1647.   

The Elders Dream.  

WHen Phoebus had withdrawn his Glittering light,  
And all the world was muffled up in night:  
A reverend Elder lying in his bed,  
Legions of idle fancies stormed his head;  
Making assault upon his giddy brain,  
Which he strove to repel, but all in vain;  
His conscience pleading guiltiness within,  
Weakened each faculty till they got in:  
Then to his apprehensiou did appear  
Sad apparitions ushered with despair,  
Cruel apparitions with proud usurpation,  
The Kingdom's Fate, and Church's desolation:  
Fowl error like a Gangrine doth spread,  
Infecting all almost from foot to head,  
Makes way for Atheism, and infidelity,  
Warranted by proud changes mutability.  
Distrust and doubt come bringing up the rear,  
Whose looks much frighted this poor Presbytere.  
Rebellion as the sin of witchcraft is,  
Who like an ugly hag accost him this.  
Proud Presbyter, I on thy breast must ride;  
Whereat this affrighted Elder vainly tried,  
Help house of Commons, help oh house of Peers,  
To free me from rebellious guilty fears.  
With that the King stepped in, and did demand  
His Crown and Seepter that should sway the Land,  
Saying they were discourteous, to bereave him  
Of those just Titles which the heavens gave him.  
The Queen and royal Issue came together,  
She clairnes a Husband, they demand a Father:  
She asks a reparation of her honour▪  
Whilst he affrighted, strangely gazed upon her.  
The Bishops and the Clergy did appear,  
Who threatened this dressed Presbytere  
With an account which one day must be given,  
If not to Charles, yet to the King of heaven.  
Nor was this menacing Message only sent  
To him alone, but to the Parliament,  
Whose actions patronise much horrid sin,  
With that Lord strafford's ghost come frowning in,  
Requiring justice to revenge his blood,  
The which the Lords and Commons must make good:  
If eye must eye, and tooth must tooth supply  
Why should not they want heads as well as I:  
Such guiltless blood must once avenged be  
On them or theirs, who shed it wilfully,  
But ere he ended had his tragic tale,  
Skips in a gentle soul with visage pale;  
'Twas canterbury's Ghost, who once did seed  
A graceless flock, which made his heart to bleed;  
A late made martyr by the Parliament,  
Whose cries for revenge to the heavens were sent,  
Pleading for justice, yet  he had done,  
Steps in old Hotham and his murdered son.  
Sir Alexander Cary likewise came,  
Who much did his discourteous Judges blame,  
Who would not add a few days to his life,  
At the request of such a virtuous wife.  
Who begged him, till Lucina brought to light  
Her timely birth whereat she took a fright,  
Seeing her poor request by them denied,  
To meet her love in spite of pity died.  
Tomkins and Chassiner, who long before  
Received their doom, came in, and many more:  
Bucher and yeoman's, though at Brist●ll they  
Were executed, do expect a day  
Of retribution, England cannot hid  
Her blood, till it with blood be pacified  
A thousand wand'ring souls did likewise come,  
Which could not pass to the Elysium,  
Because enforced by the Parliament  
To take a most abhorred Covenant.  
He heard most heavy dismal sighs and groans,  
Breathed out before a crew of walking bones  
which wanted fleshy, for they have starved been,  
Their eyes were hollow, cheeks looked pale and thin.  
These have been clothed in Scarlet, and have fed  
At bounties table which are famished,  
Not having food or raiment to supply  
Their wants 'mongst whom the young Lo. Dochrey  
Bewails his fate sith from poor Ireland they  
For safety fled to find this uncouth way  
To meet their destiny, whose bleeding veins  
Shall spot the City's Arms with progins' stains,  
That so to after Ages may be known  
What truthless Peter Sonzous zeal hath shown.  
God did the Irish cruelty prevent.  
To heap their blood upon the Parliament.  
How do the Widows and the fatherless,  
Wait at the Commons door without redress,  
Who lost their friends and fortunes for their sake,  
Which now on them but little pity take.  
What one good act have they this six years done,  
If any, let them show is, so●e says none.  
But e'er this sleeping Elder could awake,  
He saw the Independent Army shake;  
A powerful rod, which vexed his spirits more  
Than all their superstitions seemed before.  
He fears they are appointed for a scourge,  
Which will the Elders of their Jews ears purge.  
He saw the City taken by their power,  
And every horse tail a conqueror▪  
Adorned with bays, for which poor London lost  
Their Charter, but may find it to their cost.  
The Nightmare left him, he with joy up started,  
Resolved with himself to be converted.   
FINIS.   

The Army's Message or Declaration to both Houses of Parliament.  

TO you who Phaiton-like aspire,  
To guide the Sun, till earth you fire;  
The Army sendeth greeting plain,  
You must surrender Charles his wain.   

You call us servants, but shall see  
We shortly will your masters be:  
Nor shall you longer voting sit,  
Tenor wise General thinks fit.   

What base aspersions have you thrown  
On us which have the business done:  
Was it not we who conquered all,  
Which now you Independents call.   

And 'tis not long since this opinion  
Wa● voted down by your chief minion  
Proved Presbyter that saucy jack,  
Who wears his orders at his back.   

You learned Senate for their glory  
Composed a reverend Directory:  
They sat six years  they could be  
Resolved which way to worship three.   

Let all be satisfied in mind  
As they in conscience are inclined;  
Who is constrained, and hath not been  
Resolved, but doubts remains in sin.   

It was not Waller massy, Poyntz,  
Who put an end to these sad times,  
Nor yet your holy brother Sco●,  
That could have won what we have got.   

Yet they were paid, whilst we may stand  
Like your poor suppliants, to demand  
Those just arrears, the which are due  
From such ill paymasters as you.   

You say we keep the King to show  
Him like a Popet, but shall know  
We●le fix him shortly on his Seat,  
Where he your purpose will defeat.   

Was it not we who did maintain  
Your honours, who like Kings do reign,  
And should we not protect you yet,  
You could not long in safety sit.   

Your base Excise-men, and Committee,  
Which hath undone both Town and City  
Have made such holes in your gay coats,  
The which perhaps may cut your throats.   

Then send us Money, or be sure  
Your greatness shall not long endure;  
Who now like candles-shine we doubt  
Will blaze, and stink, and so go out.   

But if you mean to live at ease,  
Then run away and cross the Seas,  
Where some of your consorts are gone,  
Be wise, and do as they have done.   

And do not stay to give account  
Of those vile actions, which will mount  
To such a reckoning, and may rise  
Your heads like Hamon's to the skies▪    
FINIS.